Novel & Cerita Hockey Booktok Books

“Accurate?” “Extremely,” I said, crossing my arms. “I prefer books to bruises.” Knox leaned on his stick, helmet dangling from his other hand. Sweat glistened on his temples, but he still smelled like mint gum and victory. Unfair. “Books, huh? What’s your poison? Romance? Mystery? Or are you one of those ‘I only read classics’ types?” I blinked. Was the hockey god actually making conversation? “Mostly fantasy. The kind with dragons, not… whatever this is.” I gestured at the entire rink like it had personally offended me.

And then it wasn't long before he left. That's when I opened this rectangular object in a hurry. When I opened the outer wrapping paper, I immediately saw the words ice hockey stick on the surface of the brown cardboard. That made me open it even more brutally until I finally saw the object that I used to hit the puck on the rink. I took it out of the box and held it carefully. When I dropped the box, a piece of paper came out. The paper said: Hi Gray Bear, since you scored the most and Frost Maple won the game continuously as you promised, I would like to give you a gift. It's not a big and expensive gift, but I hope you like it.

Everyone questioned it but it had been the only rebellion I’d shown so they let it slide. I recall being happy seeing him play in my school and fucking win, beating our school a fucking five to one. Oh it made my day, seeing him warm up and skate around the ice. Except when I’d wandered away, checking through the list of things in our storage closet that night, preparing for our one-week-away school trip… I saw him. Soren Gregory—the fucking hockey god—on his knees in front of the one woman I hated the most… Anna. His on-and-off situationship everyone knew about.

"Twice. You didn't pick up." I pulled off my gloves and dropped them on the desk. "I was on the ice." "I know where you were." She set the leather folder on the desk and opened it without ceremony. "Sit down, Luca." I sat… She laid three printed pages in front of me. The first was a screenshot collection, fan accounts and sports commentary, all circling the same exhibition game footage I had been trying to stop thinking about for four days. The second was a social media analytics report with certain sections highlighted in yellow. The third was an article from a mid-tier sports culture site with the headline underlined in red pen: *Devereaux and Calloway: Hockey Rivalry or Something Else?*

They're sitting on the porch, watching as Taehee triple checks that all of Hyeri’s gear is in the trunk. Even with Hyeri running around the front yard and screaming like a banshee, it feels so nice and peaceful. Far more than the silence that comes with an empty house. They’re about to load into the car to leave when Haejin comes out with three plastic cups in his arm. Handing one to each of Andre, Dylan and Hyeri. “Strawberry smoothie with a bit of protein powder for the assistant hockey coach, banana smoothie for the assistant to the assistant hockey coach, and strawberry banana smoothie for the little hockey player in training.”

Her hand in Ethan’s. Captioned: “The Nerd & The Hockey King… exposed.” And underneath Hundreds of comments are already pouring in.

She said that she wanted some now, and he said that it was bedtime, and she said that babka was breakfast and that breakfast was for morning, and he said that was logical, and I laughed. He went to tuck her in again, and I stayed in the kitchen and cleaned up the plates, and when he came back he was holding a book that Lily said was for me. He handed me the book, and it was a children's book about a hockey player and a baker who became friends, and inside the front cover Lily wrote in wobbly letters that this is you and Daddy and that she drew a picture of us holding hands.

But Hockey is a beast of a game, and I f*ckin love it. But after my marriage, I stopped watching and even checking live scores. I stopped everything that would remind me of Cicero, deleting him everywhere around me. … We were already seated in a row right across the Islanders' bench before the game started. Papa is seated comfortably with Lugo, Cicero's best friend. They are having a deep conversation that they didn't want me to listen to. So, I focus my attention on the ice, biting down on my lips. Papa is wearing a jersey with Cicero's name and even offered me one before we left the house, but I turned him down.

“No, I can't do that. Hockey is everything to my guys. We worked so hard for this. I can't... can't just betray my team. like that." “Okay, no problem. I will just simply send this photo straight to George Kensington, Noah's father.” Tobias snapped, his voice cutting through the air like a knife. “And then I'll leak it to every major news outlet in the city. Let's see how fast your shiny new rink gets bulldozed to the ground.” He scoffed. “And let's see what happens to your precious hockey career when everyone finds out the Northcott captain is a faggot who sells his body to his rival for cheap money like a freaking prostitute.”