Hockey Romance Book Novels & Stories

He just watches me with that amused expression. “Let’s go out sometime,” he says casually. I stare at him. “You’re joking.” “No.” “You’re the captain of a professional hockey team.” “And?” “And I don’t date hockey players.” His eyebrow lifts slightly. “You dated one.” “That was a mistake.” His expression shifts slightly. Then his voice lowers. “About Luca.” My chest tightens. “Please don’t.” He studies me carefully. “I can talk to the coach,” he says quietly. “We can assign him to another physio.”

those words rolled out of his tongue as everyone stilled. …. Hello my lovely readers, hope you've been enjoying this book so far, feel free to drop your comments and thoughts about this book and don't forget to vote please. DO CHECK OR ADD OTHER BOOKS OF THE AUTHOR… *REVENGE ON THE MAFIA LORD *JUST ONE MONTH *THE FORBIDDEN ROMANCE YOU CAN ALSO CHECK MY I*******M PAGE, TO SEE THE APPEARANCE OF YOUR FAVORITE CHARACTERS,TO MAKE READING MORE FUN, PLEASE FOLLOW ME ALSO, IT'S A NEW ACCOUNT…

The locker room of the New York Glaciers smelled like wintergreen, expensive cologne, and male sweat. To most fans, this was the smell of victory. To Oliver Hartley, it just smelled like forty thousand dollars of student debt. Oliver adjusted the strap of his heavy massage kit. He was twenty-three years old, with messy blonde curls that refused to stay flat and bright blue eyes that usually held a spark of mischief. But today, those eyes were tired. He had graduated top of his class in nursing, but nursing didn't pay enough to clear his loans fast. Being a massage assistant for a star hockey team did.

_*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> But this time, he was alone. This fracture was between him and Gunner. And they were the only two that could mend it. It ran deeper than hockey for Khyle, though. He could admit to himself at least that he genuinely wanted Gunner to respect him, to like him, to trust him. Khyle knew the bluenet was capable of being charming and friendly. Regardless of his animalistic good looks, how else would he have had so many women crawling into his bed? Gunner had regular conversations with his other teammates that didn't end in bickering or a bloodbath, and Khyle found himself wondering what it would feel like to have a kind word or a pat on the shoulder from the enforcer, or someth

His fingers were burning hot, locking over my pulse point with firm, possessive strength. The contact grounded me in a way nothing else could. All the noise from the arena suddenly felt far away. My defenses, built over months of keeping our relationship buried beneath team rivalries and league politics, cracked completely. The image of the fan hurling a steel bottle at Noah’s head flashed through my mind, followed by the memory of Jax charging across the ice to defend me. “Jax...” I breathed, my dark eyes lifting to meet his. *** He did not give me time to think.

So I’d left before dawn, slipping out while she slept, determined to cut her out of my life. My stick slammed a puck into the net, the impact jarring my arms. Sweat dripped down my jaw, my chest heaving. I’d come to the rink to escape, to drown her out with the burn of muscle and the sting of cold. But those eyes—those damned hazel eyes—clung to me, pulling me back to her. She was the reason my name was trending for all the wrong reasons, the reason my father wanted me off the ice and into the family’s real estate empire, married to Sophia Lang, some polished heiress I didn’t give a damn about.

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?

“Walk in late, act like you own the place, then disappear when real responsibility is mentioned.” I glanced at him. “I didn’t disappear,” I told him calmly. “I left to pursue my dream.” “That’s the same thing!” Adrian shot back. Our mother raised her hand slightly. “Please—can we not start like this?” But no one listened. My father began. “You think hockey is a career worth building an empire on?” My jaw tightened. “It already is.” A cold laugh from Adrian. “Sports?” he said. “You’re betting your entire life on sports?”

“What? No! Alex, don’t you dare say that. I didn’t tell you this so you’d throw away everything you’ve worked for your whole life!” “Hockey’s been my dream since I was five years old,” I said, my voice steady and sure. “But dreams change. I’ve known so many people, been with so many girls… even you, back then, when we were both broken and reckless and hiding from the truth. But the girl I met that night at the club—drunk, crying, throwing up on my shirt, begging me not to leave her alone… that girl wasn’t just someone I slept with. That was you. The real you. And that changed everything.”

I couldn't believe a hockey game could actually hold my attention like that, but the adrenaline, the pushing, and the locking had been exhilarating. A wide smile spread across my face as the Blackburn players rushed the ice, hugging and slamming into each other in celebration. The camera panned over the chaos, briefly catching a stunning Black woman using a towel to gently wipe the sweat from the face of Raphael—the team captain, according to the announcer.