Hockey Drama Booktok Novels & Stories

##Chapter 10: Cassidy Book One: Stay "This is going to be so much fun! Thanks again for coming with me tonight." Snuggling into her jacket, Brooklyn bounces excitedly on the bleacher seat as her gaze tracks the hockey players skating by the Plexiglas that surrounds the ice. "That's him, number fifty-five." A dreamy look fills her large green eyes. As she sighs, her warm breath escapes into the frigid air of the rink. I roll my eyes even though she isn't paying me the slightest bit of attention.

Hephzibah’s POV My biggest mistake wasn’t falling for my stepbrother. It was letting his rival discover every filthy detail I’d written about it even my secret identity. "It's time for the semi-final round of the hockey game of the year! Will the Blades take over like before, or will the freshman be the champion of the season?" The presenter’s voice echoed loudly in the basement while the game was still ongoing. Still reapplying my lip gloss, I stood up to cheer for the winning team last year—the most exciting game ever: hockey sports. The pitch was filled with tension as students cheered them up.

Noah said, and without warning, he swept me off my feet and walked towards the entrance door. Back in the room, Noah carefully sat me on the couch. “Are you okay?” He hushed, squatting before me. “You're not hurt, are you? Do you need me to take you to the hospital?” I stared silently. “Why are you not saying anything? Are you—” “You will participate in the incoming NHL match, Noah.” Colours drained from his face. “You're not giving up. You must do this.”

Adrian POV The bus hummed with the roar of a team that had just conquered the world. The New York Titans were loud. Hockey sticks rattled in the overhead storage while helmets rolled beneath the seats. Laughter bounced off the ceiling panels, and beer cans cracked open with rhythmic pops. My teammates joked about the championship finals, their voices thick with the confidence of men who believed nothing could touch them.

Everything crashed into me at the same time. My mom was gone. Our house had burned down. Damien was getting released. Then there was Knox. Nothing felt right. The more I thought about everything, the more it felt like it was all my fault. Every stupid choice I had made. Every dirty game I had played off the ice. I kept telling myself I could handle it. I thought I was in control. Instead of focusing on school, hockey, and my family, I had wasted my time with people and problems that never should have been part of my life.

"Volkov? You good man? Saw you leave fast." "Fine," I said. Pocketed the phone. "Just needed space." He nodded. "That prosecutor meeting? Team stuff?" "Team stuff," I lied. "Nothing big." "Alright. Get some rest. Big game tomorrow. We need you and Ryder clicking." Clicking. The word burned. "We will play." He left. I stayed out longer. The cold settled deeper. No more Evan. No more nights where I felt alive. Just hockey. Just revenge. Christian would pay. But Evan paid first by losing me.

“You remember why you started playing, right? It wasn’t because you loved the game at first. You started because it was the only thing that made sense when everything else was falling apart.” Noah’s throat suddenly felt tight because that was true. Painfully true. Hockey had never been about dreams. At first, it had simply been ice, noise, movement, a place where he could breathe, where hospital smells and unpaid bills and fear couldn't reach him. A place where he wasn't helpless. Chase reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a worn hockey puck. Black, scuffed, edges scratched from countless practices and games. He rolled it between his fingers once, then held it out.

The game had become more complicated, with layers of attention, rivalry, and desire playing out around her. As Mila walked off the ice with her clipboard, Ryder fell into step beside her. He didn’t say anything, but his closeness said enough. He would protect. She would lead. And around them, the eyes of Luka, Kai, Jace, and half the team kept following her—each with their own reasons. Mila smiled to herself, sharp and knowing. This wasn’t simple. It was thrilling and she was waiting for whatever came next.

Nothing about me thinking of Wade Scott was romantic. Okay, sure. I was thinking of him. I was thinking of how to dodge him until I never had to see him again. Not even his shadow. I was thinking of ways to disappear, somewhere I would never hear his name, never read it, never. The halls emptied out as five pm hit. Students left. Only athletes stayed behind. And of course, the hockey team was still on the ice, acting like practice was life or death. We passed the hockey building, and the air shifted. The sound of skates cut through everything. We paused, and I could not stop myself from looking in.

In a single, blur-like motion, he was off his knees and rushing toward the porch. My mother stepped into his path, but I placed a hand on her shoulder. "It's okay, Mom. Let me talk to him." She looked at me, worried, but slowly stepped aside. Roman stopped at the bottom of the porch steps, looking up at me. Up close, he looked completely destroyed. The arrogant, untouchable NHL star was entirely gone, replaced by a desperate male on the verge of tears.