Hockey Dating App Novels & Stories

The lighting made it look incredibly intimate. ​"The media is loving us," Ethan explained as I stared at the screen. "Our chemistry, the look, all of it. They think we're the next big sports IT-couple. Look at the comments." ​ I scrolled down reluctantly. He wasn't lying. The internet was losing its mind over the mysterious girl next to the NHL’s golden boy. ​"Okay, but I don't really follow," I said, handing the phone back to him as a strange knot formed in my stomach. I hated the idea of my face being plastered across social media. "We aren't a thing."

It’s the game Alex and I started this whole relationship thing for: the Redmond Chillers vs the Bernard Saints. It’s a very popular game, so the place is crowded. However, there’s people here to help keep entering and exiting the rink area and bleachers easy and safe. I don’t get crushed by others as I look for Hailey. Many girls on both sides have signs with them… Should I have brought one? Agh, why didn’t I think about it earlier? Eventually, I’m able to see Hailey, the girl waving her arms in the air. I quickly make my way up the stairs and scoot past others to get to the seat she’s been saving for me.

One Hour Later The phone had been procured already and I logged into Adam's supposed favorite dating app, Tinder. The phone was well equipped with a location mask, an access through firewalls and programmed to be on Adam's location -Bayridge Brooklyn- and it's nearest environs. I swiped left on almost all the profiles I came across and still no Adam in sight. I switched the filters once more and had a whole series of swiping. Still nothing. I was giving up already. I gave it one more adjustment before swiping again. HotguyAdam33. Bingo! It was the last profile in the batch. I swiped right and we matched. Super bingo. A notification popped up, it was a text from him.

She whined and rested her head on the table again. Jeremy's heart skipped two beats... Even though he had gotten over Bethany that day at the bar, he wouldn't want her to cry over petty issues. "You can secure one through a dating app. That's what I'm currently using now." Lifting his phone, he showed the ladies the app and they leaned to see. "How does it work?"

Sometimes, I would question myself and wonder if I had been in my right mind when I decided to come to Hawaii and join the show as the second bachelor. But whenever I remembered who the first bachelor was, the excitement came rushing back. Besides, it wasn’t like I had anything important waiting for me in New York anyway. I knew about Kiara and Zane’s long history long before I ever stepped foot on this island. I hadn’t come here because I was searching for some stupid, nonexistent thing called love. I came here because I caught wind that Zane Sterling, the hockey golden boy, the magnificent billionaire, and the man the entire hockey world seemed to worship was participating as a bachelor on

so easy to do what’s right in this situation for Daniel. And yet…he can’t bring himself to. Because the look on Dylan’s face Friday evening when Andre gets back to the dorm with two of the double chocolate pastries? it’s worth all of the gut twisting he endures when Daniel is around. Dylan does not enjoy hockey. If he had to rank all of the sports on a chart, hockey is so close to the very rock bottom. But….for the first time… basically ever …he wants to go the game this weekend.

Apart from the fact that his father counted heavy stacks of billions every day, ranked as the most eligible divorced bachelor every time, topping the pages of the wealthiest in the country—his son Soren was also on a whole other high. Soren Gregory—the perfect fucking hockey god. Oh man, he was hot. You wouldn’t understand. It wasn’t performative of me saying this shit, but Soren was fucking gorgeous. Like most hockey players, Soren was six-four in height, black wavy hair always pulled into a bun, and when he let it all down… let’s leave that to your imagination. Pierced the top of his ears—not the tip. His godlike, perfectly built body had not a single scar or tattoo on it, well except behi

“Listen up, guys, listen up. Please, stop talking. I’ve got an announcement to make.” Heads turned. People started sitting. A few seconds later, all eyes were now on him. “I have an announcement, and it's about the Lupercalia festival.” He paused. “We all know and have heard about the festival, and… we know it's happening in two days.” “Yeah…” everyone echoed, nodding their heads. I had also heard of it, though it was my first time. “So, there’s good news,” he stated, smiling. “Coach has ordered that we, the hockey team, go into the city and participate!” he roared.

He scoffs then leans against the boards like we are old friends. "Tell me, Bailey, what exactly are you doing here? Since when do you care about hockey?" He asks. Of course he would ask that because to him, a woman like me can only care about baking and house chores. "Since I started dating a hockey player." I reply without missing a beat. My reply is made to annoy him,or I hope it does. "Dating." He says it like it's some twisted joke. "Is that what we're calling it?" My heart skips. Why is he talking like he knows something others don't?

“We’re not...” I tilt my head, cutting him off before he can even finish. “What? You gonna say we’re not dating?” My smirk widens, teasing, poking at him on purpose. “Because I’m pretty sure that’s what it is, Mercer.” His glare turns deadly. “You did not just call it that.” I laugh, leaning against the counter, fully enjoying this. “What, dating? What else do you wanna call it?” I say “we play hockey, we fuck, we argue, and then we do it all over again, that screams dating to me.”