Hockey Player Booktok Novels & Stories

“I never want to use a gun again. I never want to kill people again, not after five fucking years. I’m a hockey player, not a killer.” “Son, this right here, is inevitable. This is who you are. Hockey is just what you concocted in your head. That’s just a fake personality of yours.” Mr. Vuk’s words hit me hard in the chest. Hockey was just a facade I concocted due to my split personalities. The other half of me, which is currently dominating, is the good part. The sunshine part. The half who loves hockey and everyone. But I knew this part of me won’t last forever.

Hockey is a brutally demanding game, not just the physical exertion but everything else that goes with it, hell some players have been seriously injured on the ice. My phone beeps, I have it on vibrate, it’s my sister Henri. “Hey you,” I say as I shift in my seat in the VIP area to get a better look at Alex skating below, he has the puck, it looks like he is going to take a shot. I hold my breath as Henri speaks. “I’m all good, just got the head librarian role and couldn’t wait to tell you. Mom and dad are so happy for me. And I’m seeing someone.”

The members of the varsity team stopped talking as they waited for Lina to say her next words. They all wondered why their manager, who was only interested in Hockey, stopped me, the troublemaker that didn't even land a shot. Lina cleared her throat as she looked into my eyes. However, it was more like she was looking into my soul instead. "So, you have really played Hockey before?" she asked. For some reason, my short play a while back showed Lina something. The people inside waited for my answer but I paused to think about my answer seriously. "No," I responded. "This is the second time I've played Hockey in my life," I said as I had decided to take the Ethan's tenure out of my career.

_*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> Any guy in his shoes, a professional hockey player in a sport that advocated manliness and roughhousing, a place where testosterone and conflict were groomed and glorified, would be feeling the same way. _*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> He tasked himself as he made a left turn. Here he was, getting all ahead of himself again. Damn the bluenet and his ridiculous appeal. At the moment, this was only about him. Santos Khyle, and no one else. _*]:min-w-0 gap-3">

That was why I felt comfortable enough to come out to her. My fingers tightened around the book as my brain scrambled to make sense of it. No way. Noah Carter, straight-laced hockey captain, was reading gay erotica novels? A soft sound behind me made me glance over my shoulder. He was out cold, one arm now flung over his face, his shirt riding up enough to show his mouthwatering V-line that led into his pants. Heat crept up my neck and I turned back to the shelf, knowing I couldn’t put back the book or he’d know I touched it.

She was already dealing with enough. I had just stepped into campus when Sarah came running up to me like a storm. “Guess what,” she said, eyes wide like a child on Christmas. “We have a hockey match today. A real one. With actual college scouts and everything. And guess who’s the starting player?” I didn’t answer. I already knew. “Dominic Lakes,” she said with a dramatic sigh. “God, he’s so hot. You think he’s single?” I rolled my eyes. “Why would I care?”

In the hallway outside the locker room, a tall man in a navy suit leaned against the wall, arms crossed, eyes sharp beneath a shock of graying hair. “Hayden Michaels?” he asked, stepping forward and extending a hand. “Yes, sir.” “David Kern. Toronto Maple Leafs development team.” We shook hands. His grip was firm and business-like. “I’ve been following your games this season. Your skating’s crisp. Vision on the ice is top-tier. You’re not just talented but you’re teachable and that’s rare for hockey players.” “Thank you,” I said, trying to keep my voice even. “I won’t waste your time. You’ve got pro potential, Michaels. Big potential. If you keep this up, we’ll be sending an official invitat

“It's going to be fine. You've got me, and Jackson's just being Jackson. It's not new that you two bicker. Settle it tonight, yeah? He loves you.” I wanted to believe her. But as I stared at the crowded front porch, at the glimpse of a hockey stick logo on someone's jacket, something strange settled in my chest. The hockey team was here. “June…he is here?” I asked, a frown settling on my face. “He is— I am sorry I didn't inform you. I knew you weren't going to bulge. But I am here, Imani.” And he was here. Nicolas Jamieson— the famous hockey player.

Rain hammered against the windshield, blurring the city lights into streaks of color. Mila Torres gripped the wheel, her knuckles white around the steering wheel, heart pounding. Today was her first day as the Frost City Titans sports therapist. The team, the facility, the players—it was all real now. No classroom, no practice charts, no easy scenarios. Mistakes here could hurt someone.

“There was an interview. Something he said got twisted. Sponsors are nervous. The team is nervous. They want stability.” “And they think a woman will fix that?” “They think the right woman will.” I shake my head. “That’s insulting.” “It is,” she agrees. “But that’s not why I thought of you.” I narrow my eyes. “Then why?” “Because you don’t fall apart for show,” she says quietly. “And because you won’t lose yourself in him.” I look away. “That’s funny,” I mutter. “Because I lost myself for ten years.” “That was different.”