Hockey Booktok Novels & Stories

Chapter 182: Third Person POV The man's fingers traced the glossy magazine cover slowly, deliberately, his touch almost reverent as it moved across the photograph displayed there, a hockey player mid-action, captured in perfect athletic form, his face focused and intense beneath the headline "Zane Mercer: The NHL's Most Elusive Star." The downtown Seattle penthouse where he sat was dark except for the ambient city lights filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting shadows that made the expensive modern furniture look almost sinister in the dim glow.

This was supposed to be a tactical training session for the end of the year, but for Marco Marten, it was a hunting ground. His dark eyes were locked exclusively on a single target darting across the ice: Jonah Bennett. Every time Jonah took possession of the puck, Marco hunted him down with irrational speed. His hockey stick swung, not to find a scoring position, but to violently shatter Jonah's rhythm. Three months. The clock ticked through Marco's head like a torturous broken record. The child was his flesh and blood. Growing in that sinful woman's womb, and now she was planning to give the Bennet name to something imprinted with his DNA.

A scoff followed after, almost like she didn’t believe the words coming out of my mouth, “You can’t be serious. It’s hockey!! A game of champions. Blake University has had the best team for years. We almost made it to the playoffs last year even, there’s no way you came in here without wanting to— “No.” I shook my head, “I think hockey is a game for losers.” “Aria!!” I remained defiant on my stance, “You heard me. I think hockey sucks, the concept of the whole game sucks, I think it’s a waste of student resources and the school’s money. I did my research and the school pumps a whole load into the team, which I think is pathetic. So you heard me loud and clear—Hockey is a game for losers.” I

“If you don’t want this picture out in the open then you better do as I say” My tone was supposed to sound harsh than that, instead I sounded like a lost puppy, maybe that was part of the reason why he wasn’t taking me serious. “What is it that you want?” He stated like I was bothering him. “I want you to teach me how to play hockey, it seems that what I know is not enough to get me on the team. So I need you” Was I desperate? Yes Did I stoop so low as to blackmail Emory to get what I want? Yes,

Dark hair messy beneath his helmet like a cologne commercial designed to ruin women financially and emotionally. Still an asshole though. “You’re watching this again?” she asked. Ethan finally glanced at her. “This was his hat trick game.” “You say that like it’s supposed to mean something to me.” “It means he scored three goals in one game.” “Congratulations to him and his violent ice soccer.” Ethan gasped in mock offense. “Did you just call hockey ice soccer?” “Yes.” “That’s offensive.” She bit into her toast. “You know what’s offensive? The fact that this man has rejected me four times this month.”

What am I going to do when I turn into a stupid donkey in a second? Adeline, you're really done for. It seems like God doesn't love me at all. The moment I turned the corner, my prayers went unanswered. Leaning casually against his sleek black car, looking like trouble wrapped in confidence, was Travis. One hand tucked into his pocket, the other scrolling lazily through his phone. Dark sunglasses perched on his nose, shirt rolled at the sleeves, every inch of him radiating that cocky, dangerous energy I stupidly remembered far too well from last night.

PUCKING THE GOALIE BOOK 1 Intro; Name: Mara Lennox Age: 22 Personality: Sharp-tongued, observant, emotionally guarded, quietly feral when she wants something Background: Mara didn’t grow up dreaming about hockey players or fantasizing about them, She grew up around them so she wasn’t some groupie. Her older brother is a defenseman on the same hockey team, injury reserve now, sidelined for the time being until cleared. So she’s seen locker rooms, the bruises, blood, the ego these hockey players have, her brother being one of them and she’s familiar with the cycle of life most hockey players adapt.

“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.

I crashed backward into the lockers with a deafening bang, pain shooting through my spine as the metal dug in. The crowd erupted, phones started flying up, people shouting and recording. Natalie stormed in and raised her arm, clearly wanting to slap me back and I'm ready for that. "An eye for an eye, a slap for a slap." But when her hand was about to land on me, another hand caught her wrist. "Hands off, Blondie!" Asher's deep voice boomed through the chaos like a command on the ice. The star winger of the hockey team pushed through the crowd with powerful strides, his broad shoulders cutting through the sea of phones and staring faces.

So, I slipped out of bed, bare feet pressing into the cold floor. I stopped in front of my father’s library. He never locked it—he didn’t need to. I scanned the shelves, searching for anything that could help me. Surely somewhere in this endless maze of knowledge, there had to be something about hockey. Some book that could tell me what I was missing or maybe a book to help me improve the skills I never had. While still hoping that luck shined on me, My hand hovered until I spotted it: *The Fundamentals of Ice Hockey.*