Hockey Player Booktok Drama Mga Nobela at Kwento

"Seriously, don't let those country club snobs get to you. My life is a complete circus right now too. I'm currently hiding out here because I'm furious at my boyfriend. He's this giant, thick-skulled hockey player named Miller, and he thinks he can just ignore my texts for six hours because they're in 'heavy training lines' or whatever." My jaw literally dropped. The tissue in my hand crumpled as I stared at her in absolute, utter shock. "Wait. Miller? As in Miller, the defenseman?" Chloe paused, her coffee straw hovering near her lips as her eyes went wide. "Yeah. How do you know Miller?" "He's... he's Brayden's defensive partner on the ice," I stammered, the sheer coincidence of it making

WRENLEY Squeezing past a row of knees with two sodas, Tess settled into her seat. "I still don't get why you wanted to come to this.” she hands me one of the soda in her hand. "You hate sports. I mean you yourself told me and I quote “Hockey is basically an excuse for attractive idiots to launch themselves into walls. "But isn't that right?” I replied pointing to the rink. “It's just men with sticks chasing a puck," I take the soda I didn't ask for. "You wanted company. I'm being a good friend. Don't make it weird."

" I'll tell you what. Let's play a game. We're going to be doing a drinking competition. You can have as much Americano as you want. But it means you have to beat me. And if you end up doing so, I won't bug you anymore and you can work for whoever you want, but if you don't, you'll have to comply and come work for me." I shook my head. " I don't think I like that idea. It's possible you are a good drinker." " You'll be shocked to know I seldom drink. If anything, this will be my first doing this game." I raised a brow. " You are kidding me." "I am a hockey player for goodness sake. The captain for that matter. I have to stay fit. I could take a sip from time to time, but not always. Besides

Then the distance turned sharp. Now he barely looked at me. When he did, it was with that blank hockey-player stare, like I was just another face in the crowd he skated past. I turned the corner toward the library — my safe zone during lunch — and nearly collided with a broad chest wrapped in a letterman jacket. Strong hands caught my elbows to steady me. The scent hit first: clean sweat, mint gum, and something colder, like ice from the rink. Jax. Up close he looked even taller than on the ice. Dark hair still damp from morning practice, jaw tight, eyes the kind of blue that used to make me feel seen. Today they flicked over me quickly — recognition, then something unreadable.

I hesitated, but succumbed anyways. “Just one,” I said, not thinking too much to it, a shot with hurt. We sat on the couch, the city lights reflecting on the river outside. Caleb poured us both a drink, handing me a glass. “To better days,” he said, clinking his glass against mine. I took a sip. The whiskey burned going down, but it warmed me from the inside. We talked for a while about hockey, about the team drama, about nothing important. Caleb was easy to talk to when he wasn’t trying too hard. He listened. He didn’t push.

I got to the entrance and was stopped by Jenna, one of the girls in our class, also nerdy but still more social than me, standing there and giggling like she's won a lottery. I shrugged and ignored her to continue walking but she stopped me, pleading look on her face as she asked politely, "Can you come with me to the hockey field, please?" I frowned. "All of a sudden? Why?" "No. It's just..." She breathed erratically, "I want to confess to Luther before anyone does, so I don't know how to go about it and I heard he's joined the hockey team and is playing against Reis Armani tonight" Her explanations made no sense to me. A girl that doesn't talk to me suddenly asking me to watch the hockey g

She was hiding something, burying herself under the crushing weight of that architecture program, and my father’s enforced isolation had completely shattered my ability to reach her. "Head in the game, Evans!" Leo yelled, snapping a hard pass across the blue line. I caught the puck on the blade of my stick, my jaw clenched. I didn't want to play hockey. I wanted to get on a plane, fly to Chicago, and kick the door of her dorm room down. I accelerated toward the offensive zone, my eyes tracking the goalie. I didn't see the blindside coming. Hayes, the massive senior defenseman I had humiliated earlier in the week, had been waiting for his shot. He didn't play the puck. He didn't aim for my ch

The puck sailed towards me before I could even reply and I managed to catch it awkwardly by first dodging and then overextending to keep it in play. By the time I recovered, he was on me, trying to get the puck away. "Don't you think that's unfair!" I grunted as I tried dribbling away from him but just couldn't shake him. It was almost as if he was reading me like an open book. Every move I made was perfectly met with unyielding defense to the point that I felt like just letting him have the puck. My pride wouldn't let me though. I dribbled the puck with all of the expertise that had been ingrained into me through years of competitive hockey and I could feel myself settling into it, slowly b

"Well, I owe your roommate a drink. I’m Diego." "Kol." "A dancer, right?" Diego’s voice was hushed, intimate. "You move like you own the floor." "Something like that," Kol breathed. The alcohol and the proximity were making his head spin. He reached out, his fingers trailing tentatively over the leather of Diego’s jacket. "And you? You're one of the 'Wolves' everyone is howling about?" "I’m the one who handles the puck," Diego murmured, leaning in until his breath tickled Kol’s ear. "And I’ve been told I’m very good with my hands. Want to get out of here?"

The hockey team had a big drug scandal. Then Dr. Hartley died suddenly. After the death, the scandal disappeared. Alexander always felt something was wrong. But he never asked his father questions. He just played hockey. Now, the boy he wanted, the boy who made his body burn with need, was looking for a murderer. And he suspected Alexander's family. Alexander closed his eyes. He pictured Oliver naked in the pool. He pictured Oliver panting under him. He pictured Oliver looking at him with hate. "Fuck," Alexander whispered.