Novel & Cerita Hockey Player Books

Damien’s voice cut off abruptly. I turned around slowly. Damien stood in the doorway, his hockey gear bag slung over one shoulder, his jaw tight as his gaze shifted from his father to me. The shock in his dark eyes lasted for only a fraction of a second before hardening into pure, unadulterated fury. Damien dropped his athletic bag to the floor with a heavy thud. He marched into the room, closing the distance between us until he was towering over me, invading my personal space.

I thought I was here because of my spices, because of my hard work in the hot kitchen, but. The cold air of the ice rink pierced my pores, but the blood in my veins felt boiling. I didn't remember how I got there. I just knew I had to see him. In front of me, dozens of hockey players in full uniform were hurtling at high speed. A black puck shot straight up, hitting the wall with a deafening thud. "Woah! Chef! Get out of there!" someone shouted from the bench. "When did she get in there?"

"Just what I thought." "He's innocent." "Loyalty." He scoffed. "How cute." He turned back to the door and yanked it open. "What the fuck is your problem?" I hissed. "Are you so desperate to play hockey that you don't care whose life gets destroyed? News flash, that doesn't make you a dedicated player. We're supposed to be a team, and a team looks out for their own. If you're not going to be a team player, then maybe hockey isn't for you."

A short dry sound, more exhale than amusement. Then he looked at her. Not quickly. Actually looked, the way people do when they think they won't get caught doing it. The jersey hit her mid-thigh. His number. His name stretched across the back of it in block letters. She was swimming in it, arms crossed defensively over her chest and still radiating the specific energy of someone prepared to die on every hill available to her this morning. He didn't let the thought sit long. That was his first jersey. His first hat trick. Fifteen years old and certain the world was ending every time he touched the ice. He hadn't thought twice last night—Just handed it over.

KAIDA’S POV Hockey players are known for their hotness and handsome faces, but their personalities and love-lives are nothing to write home about. It’d be almost impossible to find a hockey player who is responsible and doesn’t cheat on their women. They are rare. 99% of hockey players are playboys. And the number one on the list was Maverick and number two goes to Liam. The two men in my life. Liam, my Ex-boyfriend of two years, cheated on me with his childhood best friend and Maverick?

“You don’t have to be great at it. You just… let people in, little by little. On your terms.” Something in his voice made my chest ache in a way I wasn’t prepared for. I tried to laugh it off. “Careful, Michaels. You’re starting to sound like one of those broody romance novel heroes.” His lips twitched. “Do those guys play hockey?” “Not usually,” I said, grateful for the lighter turn. “They’re usually running through fields in the rain, confessing their undying love.” “I could do that,” he deadpanned. “But I’d probably slip on the ice and take you down with me.”

Had it not been for money, I would be standing there instead of here now. “This way, please,” The driver led the way, and I followed, my heart pounding. I've researched and even heard so many things about the players from this particular team. They're rumoured to be cocky and rude. Well, this isn't news at all. Almost all the hockey players around the world are known to be crazy… Well, so am I. I just hope I last here... I have to. I need the money, and heck! I need to eventually get into the figure skating team once I save up enough.

“I have a confession. I know you, we attend the same school and I’ve seen you occasionally. I also know this is what you do” I stared at him and wondered why I didn’t know him if he knew me “ I’m a hockey player in the school, you rarely come for our games so it seems that’s why you don’t know me” he continued “I also have a proposition for you. I’ve wanted to do it in the boy’s bathroom but I’ve been to much of a bitch to even give it a go” Was this guy kidding me? Hell no. I would just get my money abd fuck outta here. I ignored him and grabbed my bag to leave.

He’s just focused on getting the best out of his client, Cicero, and is ready to go the extra mile to do that if he needs to. So, at that time, when the act took place, I found a way to convince him that if Cicero finds out, it will affect his career, knowing he doesn’t play with Cicero’s career. So, he agreed to keep my secret because, as we all know, Cicero is a ticking time bomb. Frank opens the door, and the faint scent of men's cologne, heat, and masculine odor permeates the air. The sight of half-naked hockey players hits me as he leads the way, walking ahead, while good-looking and well-chiseled hockey athletes stare and whistle as we pass them.

“It wasn’t really the sport that hooked me. It was everything around it—the goalkeeper playing his last match before retirement, the rookie who couldn’t stop crying after his debut, the kid waiting outside the stadium for an autograph like it was the most important thing in the world.” I traced the rim of my mug with my finger. “Those moments stuck with me more than the score ever did.” Dean didn’t interrupt. He just listened. “So I switched to hockey,” I added. “Because the stories were better?” “The people were.” His mouth curved slightly. “I like that answer.” “It took me four years to come up with it.” He let out a soft laugh. “What was the first game you ever covered?” “Oh…” I covered m