Hockey Books Romance Novels & Stories

The headlines were worse. ‘Hockey star Duke Smith spotted with mystery woman. Is he cheating? My chest tightened. The comments were wild. I shouldn’t have read them. But I did. ‘Who is she? She definitely threw herself at him.’ ‘I want to see her face. Let’s see how she looks.’ ‘No woman comes between Duke and Lisa. They are our power couple ‘She’s probably ugly, that’s why he’s hiding her face’ I couldn’t read anymore. My hands started shaking. My breathing became uneven again.

Notifications. Too many, I picked it up slowly. My eyes weren’t even fully open yet but I could already see the headlines on the screen. I blinked once.Then again. And then I sat up fast. “RYAN CARTER SECRETLY MARRIES UNKNOWN HOCKEY PLAYER” Another one. “WORLD CHAMPION SHOCKS FANS WITH SECRET WEDDING” Another. “WHO IS THE GIRL NEXT TO RYAN CARTER” My heart started beating fast like it wanted to leave my chest, in scrolled without thinking.

By‍ Monday morning, Camero‌n Hayes w⁠as trending for reasons that ha‍d nothing to do with hockey. ‘#Came‌naScandal’ sa⁠t at the t‍op of every sport⁠s blog'⁠s fe‍ed, the parking lot kiss dissected f⁠ra⁠me‌ by fr⁠ame, paired now with older photos someone had d‌ug up, the rink, the team dinner,‍ months of moments ne⁠ither of them had rea‍lized were being documented. A ta‍bloid ran the‌ headline ‘HOCK‌EY'‌S⁠ GOLDEN BOY'S FORBIDDEN STEPSISTER RO⁠MANCE⁠’, and it spread faster than anything Lena had eve‌r se‌en move⁠ online.

Tamara’s POV Hockey practice on Monday was like watching a car crash happen in slow motion. I didn’t mean to go. I told myself I was just walking to the rink to grab a textbook Elena had left there after the game. That was the lie I told myself, and I almost believed it until I found myself standing in the bleachers with my backpack slung over one shoulder, watching them warm up.

Both making me question everything I thought I knew about who I was fighting against — and who I was fighting for. I closed my eyes, letting the silence wrap around me. Tomorrow’s practice loomed. Victor Harlow’s calls were mounting. The team’s bets were getting bolder. Coach’s calculations kept turning. But tonight, in the dark, with messages from an unexpected rival and the man I was falling for sleeping inches away, I wondered how much longer I could keep balancing on this knife’s edge before everything finally broke. How much longer could I keep pretending this was only about hockey, when the truth was already slipping through the cracks — pulling me between two men who both wanted me in

Hockey is a brutally demanding game, not just the physical exertion but everything else that goes with it, hell some players have been seriously injured on the ice. My phone beeps, I have it on vibrate, it’s my sister Henri. “Hey you,” I say as I shift in my seat in the VIP area to get a better look at Alex skating below, he has the puck, it looks like he is going to take a shot. I hold my breath as Henri speaks. “I’m all good, just got the head librarian role and couldn’t wait to tell you. Mom and dad are so happy for me. And I’m seeing someone.”

“There it is.” I looked at her confused. “What?” “The hockey voice.” My stomach tightened in an instant, and I immediately looked away. But I could still feel Harper leaning closer. “You know,” she said quietly, “ it’s nice hearing you talk about hockey again.” Suddenly the room felt smaller, and I found myself staring at the wall—at the photos I’d never bothered taking down, at the medals hidden inside a drawer. At a version of myself I didn’t want to speak about until God knows when.

“Walk in late, act like you own the place, then disappear when real responsibility is mentioned.” I glanced at him. “I didn’t disappear,” I told him calmly. “I left to pursue my dream.” “That’s the same thing!” Adrian shot back. Our mother raised her hand slightly. “Please—can we not start like this?” But no one listened. My father began. “You think hockey is a career worth building an empire on?” My jaw tightened. “It already is.” A cold laugh from Adrian. “Sports?” he said. “You’re betting your entire life on sports?”

Chapter 13 Adele Wilson I walked inside the ice hockey arena at exactly 5:30 A.M. My legs halted forcefully as I spotted Jason on the ice rink, skating. Fingers curled tightly around the hockey stick as he moved the puck speedily across the rink. I had pictured everything in my mind. How beautiful and perfect I would be after Jason helped me lose some weight as he had promised, but I couldn't bring myself to continue this. Not when my father's life is in jeopardy.

brushed against her in the kitchen, my hand grazing her hip. She jumped, her book nearly falling from her hands. "Sorry, Em," I said, but my voice was low, husky. "No problem," she mumbled, but her cheeks were pink, and she wouldn't meet my eyes. I started leaving little hints. One evening, I found one of her books on the coffee table, a steamy romance with dog-eared pages. I flipped through it, reading a scene where the hero pins the heroine against a wall, thrusting into her with raw passion.