Hockey Player Romance Books Novels & Stories

Honestly, am I that bad? “You, romance. They don’t go together in the same sentence. Ever.” She snipes back at me. “You’re just a manwhore who only thinks about getting his rocks off. There isn’t a damn romantic bone in your body, Brannigan.” Wow, that stings. Is this what she thinks of me? She may have a point, so I do like having sex and I like having sex a lot. Okay, maybe I have way too much sex more than the average guy but I’m a fucking horny hockey player. What can I say? But this woman, she’s making me want her so badly I can’t even think straight. And for once in my life, I’m not just thinking with my dick. I want to actually kiss her slowly, and touch her to feel how her soft skin

That earned him a puck flicked at his shin. “Don’t bring Skylar into this,” I warned, smirking. “Oh, come on, Captain,” Liam said. “Half the team’s living for your little romance arc. You’re like the hockey version of a Hallmark movie.” “Yeah,” Peter added. “The brooding athlete and the artsy girl who heals his soul with eyeliner and emotional honesty.” “Keep talking, and I’ll heal your jaw with a slap shot,” I said briskly to them. They howled with laughter, and even I couldn’t hold back a smile.

As long as Diego could make me feel like the center of the universe, I realized I could overlook almost any friction between us. And overlook it I did. We fell back into a routine—studying nearly every evening, though the library was quickly replaced by the privacy of the Riverside Duplex. We’d make an honest attempt at the books, but as the sun dipped below the horizon, the gravity between us would inevitably pull us toward the bedroom. It felt like a functional truce. I was getting the academic support I needed and the most intense physical connection of my life. It was the best of both worlds. Who wouldn't want a brilliant, lethal hockey star as their personal tutor and lover?

Ryan's mother slowly folded her napkin before placing it neatly beside her plate. Then she turned toward her son.."Ryan, I don't understand." Her voice remained calm, almost gentle. "You're an Alpha, you're one of the most celebrated hockey players in the country, and people like you don't simply choose a partner. Every woman who stands beside you becomes a reflection of your name." She looked at me briefly before returning her attention to Ryan..“Marrying an ordinary girl with no pack, no title, and no influence will only bring you down."

“Come with me? Pleeease? I’ll introduce you to his sweet teammates, you’re bound to like one of them.” She immediately starts to protest, but I hit her with my biggest baby face, my eyes wide and dramatic. Freya groans, chuckling. “Ugh, fine. Just remind me ahead of time so I can clear my schedule. But I’m not promising to hook up with anyone.” “That’s my bestie!” I squeal, wrapping my arms around her. “Trust me, there’s no way you’ll meet a hockey player and not melt. Those guys are a different breed.”

And I felt something snap inside me. I've been trying. God, I'd been trying so hard to accept that she was his. That I'd lost her. That I deserved to lose her because of what I'd done. But watching him look at her like she was the only thing that mattered in the entire world, watching him play better because she was watching….. I couldn't take it anymore. The puck was in my possession. Three minutes left in the game. Crestwood down by one. This was supposed to be our moment. Garrett's and mine. Two alphas playing together, showing the other packs what we were capable of.

The sight of these four hockey giants—men who had body-checked opponents into the boards and fought through seasons of grueling violence—trying to navigate the delicate art of pocket squares and boutonnières was pure magic. Knox was currently trying to pin a yellow sunflower onto Dmitri’s lapel. Dmitri, the stoic Russian enforcer, was standing perfectly still, his massive arms hanging at his sides as if he were guarding a goal post. "It is a flower, Knox," Dmitri said in his thick, gravelly voice. "It is not a puck. Do not hit it." Jax looked up and saw me. The way his face changed—the way his expression instantly softened, shifting from playful camaraderie to a look of such profound, quiet

“Shut the fuck up, You followed me because?.” “Girl why are you always on edge, what the hell was that back at the games.” “He’s supposed to be mine.” Her voice cracked on the last word. “I got him here. I fixed everything so he could… ” “Yeah, yeah, you’re the fairy godmother of broke-ass hockey players. Spare me.” I walked up the steps, stopped right in front of her so she had to tilt her head back. “He’s not yours. He never was. And if you keep pulling this jealous ex bullshit, you’re gonna fuck up more than his mattress.”

"And I'll recommend that the league drop the investigation." "Thank you." "Don't thank me yet." Dr. Chen pulled something out of her desk drawer. A book manuscript. Thick. Printed. The cover page read: "Love on Ice: The True Story of Hockey's Most Controversial Couple. By Emily Chen, Ph.D." Damian's blood ran cold. "What is that?" "My book." Dr. Chen set the manuscript on the coffee table. "I've been writing it for six months. Interviews. Research. Analysis. It covers everything—your rivalry, your relationship, the blackmail, the shooting, the wedding."

I say dryly. “Come on, we have to go! I heard Enzo is playing today, and also there's a new player we should go watch today.” She said, with a mischievous glint in her eyes. Enzo was one of the players on the hockey team that Leah had been pining away for since our first semester. He barely gave her any attention, but she always went to each of his games, cheering him on, because she was convinced he liked her. “I'm not going, Lee. As for the new player, it's too early to set me up.” I said, grabbing some apples.