Novel & Cerita Hockey Player Romance Books

I was supposed to hate him. Falling for him was never part of the plan. Jamie Bronte has everything people dream of—talent, money, fame, and a future waiting for him in the hockey world. What he doesn’t have is freedom. Trapped beneath the expectations of a powerful father who controls every part of his life, Jamie has perfected the art of pretending everything is fine. Until Asher Blackstone arrives. Asher is everything Jamie shouldn’t want. Arrogant. Competitive. Infuriatingly irresistible. And his newest rival on the ice. Everyone knows Asher carries a dangerous secret. Six months ago, his former best friend disappeared under suspicious circumstances, leaving behind a sc

I chuckled inwardly when I remembered how irritated and disgusted her facial expression was when I told her I'd fucked Amara or Angela whatever her name was—on the kitchen counter. Granted, I wasn't exactly one to talk. I was no fucking monk, and neither were Xavi or Merrick. What can I say? Hockey players are notoriously horny motherfuckers. When we’re not sweating our asses off on the ice, the four of us can usually be found hooking up with a puck bunny or two. Or three, if your name happens to be Merrick and it’s New Year’s Eve of last year. "I’ve been texting your phone for the past fucking hour, man," Xavi informed me, grunting as his massive shoulders hunched forward. He reached down t

By‍ Monday morning, Camero‌n Hayes w⁠as trending for reasons that ha‍d nothing to do with hockey. ‘#Came‌naScandal’ sa⁠t at the t‍op of every sport⁠s blog'⁠s fe‍ed, the parking lot kiss dissected f⁠ra⁠me‌ by fr⁠ame, paired now with older photos someone had d‌ug up, the rink, the team dinner,‍ months of moments ne⁠ither of them had rea‍lized were being documented. A ta‍bloid ran the‌ headline ‘HOCK‌EY'‌S⁠ GOLDEN BOY'S FORBIDDEN STEPSISTER RO⁠MANCE⁠’, and it spread faster than anything Lena had eve‌r se‌en move⁠ online.

I was carrying Damien's baby. Damien Volkov. The captain of Boston Wolves. Hockey's golden boy. One of the nation's most loved hockey stars. And I was now the mother of his child. The thought made my heart swell with joy. This news could change everything. If he found out that his child was growing inside me, maybe Damien would finally look at me. Maybe he would finally love me as his wife Maybe he would finally be proud enough to show me off to the public as NHL's Damien Volkov's wife.

"Look, I get it. New guy, hockey captain, whatever. But I'm not interested in charity cases." Charity case. The words echoed in my head, each repetition cutting deeper. "I was trying to read," I managed to say, my voice shaking. "In the history section? Right." He leans closer, and I can smell his cologne, expensive, confident. Everything I'm not. "Let me guess. You're one of those girls who thinks if she hangs around long enough, maybe the popular guy will notice her?" "No, I..." "Well, congratulations. I noticed. And here's some free advice find someone in your own league."

“They work." "They terrify me." "They should.” Sandra folds one elegant leg over the other. "The public doesn't see Mercer versus Locke as a hockey rivalry anymore." Jim nods. "What do they see?" She smiles. "They see mythology. They're opposite archetypes.” She gestures toward the screen. "Locke is discipline, Mercer is chaos. Locke is cold precision, Mercer is pure instinct. They’re the two biggest personalities in the league, and every time they're photographed within ten feet of one another our engagement explodes."

Cody is keeping the honeymoon a big surprise but whatever he has planned I know I will absolutely love. Luna is sitting outside reading a book on the love seat swing, she looks serene and gentle as I hang laundry. Cody and I arrived back last night from Aspen where they won too. Now Austin is within a chance of qualifying for the Stanley Cup. It’s so exciting because if Cody can make it happen for the team to win again, it’ll be two years in a row that he’ll have made it happen for his respective teams. No pressure on him then. “You want a hand with that?” She asks me glancing up from her romance, I lent her a Laurent Asher book from the Dreamland Billionaire series and she is literally eati

They’d smiled at each other, and for a second, it looked like a fucking scene out of some teen romance movie, two star-crossed lovers reaching for the same book in a library, fingers brushing, eyes locking, hearts racing. I nearly lost it. And then Luke, one of my teammates, leaned over and muttered, "Damn. That girl looks like a sex doll with that hair." That was it. That was when I stood up and walked out. Because fuck that. A reporter cleared her throat, snapping me back to the present. Blonde, sharp-eyed, the type that got off on making people squirm. "Logan," she started, her smirk playing at the edges of her lips. "Hockey fans all over have been dying to know 'what’s your type?'"

Both making me question everything I thought I knew about who I was fighting against — and who I was fighting for. I closed my eyes, letting the silence wrap around me. Tomorrow’s practice loomed. Victor Harlow’s calls were mounting. The team’s bets were getting bolder. Coach’s calculations kept turning. But tonight, in the dark, with messages from an unexpected rival and the man I was falling for sleeping inches away, I wondered how much longer I could keep balancing on this knife’s edge before everything finally broke. How much longer could I keep pretending this was only about hockey, when the truth was already slipping through the cracks — pulling me between two men who both wanted me in

“Just your brain being stupid.” But the feelings from the dream wouldn’t leave. The way his lips felt. The way he said my name. It scared me more than any big hit on the ice. I couldn’t like Toby that way. I was Alan Voss. Hockey captain. Going to the NHL. Guys like me didn’t have dreams about other guys. I needed to prove it. To myself and to everyone. The next morning I texted Sarah, one of the girls who had been asking me out for months.