Hockey Romance Novels & Stories

Specifically to the pages sitting next to his keyboard – a cover page visible with what appeared to be a very muscular torso sketched in pencil. “Cole.” He reached for the pages. Too slow. “Was that a romance novel?” He slammed his laptop shut like that would somehow help. “It’s literary fiction with romantic elements.” “There was a shirtless hockey player on the cover page.” “...Research.” Sienna looked at me. I looked at Sienna. For one second – one brief, ridiculous, beautiful second – the weight of everything lifted and we were just two girls in a boy’s apartment discovering that the 6′4" redheaded goalie with the deadpan delivery was secretly writing love stories.

Ford punches me in the arm. “Look at you, Bro like a love sick teenager with stars and hearts in his eyes.” I flick him the finger. “Fuck you, asshole. You’re just jealous you haven’t found the one yet.” “And Roxy, you’re sure she is the one?” he asks as he lets his towel drop to the floor and is fully naked. We’re used to it. You have to be in hockey. Nobody gives a rat’s ass. “I’m sure. We love each other. Thing is she hasn’t decided to take the assignment in Tibet or to stay here with me. I’m kind of worried about her staying with the rogue infiltration and the new developments. There could be a war between us.”

“I’m even better than you.” “Ah really?” I grinned as I pulled her up with force – but this playful tease turned into a heart stopping situation! A romcom cliché! “H-Heiji!!!” She squealed in surprise when our bodies collied. In a split of seconds, we found ourselves wrapped on each other’s arms…

"Oh honey, you should see the drama playing out in our waiting room. Every single day, like clockwork, two very handsome young men show up to see you. And let me tell you, there's been some tension." My heart started beating faster, and the monitor beside me began beeping more rapidly. "Two men?" "Jaxon Cross, that's the ice hockey player, tall and blonde with the most gorgeous blue eyes. Then there's Professor Ronan, dark hair, green eyes, looks like he stepped out of some romance novel." Patty fanned herself dramatically. "Thank goodness, that man is fine." Even in my weakened state, heat flooded my cheeks. The feelings I'd had for both of them in my dreams felt incredibly real. Too real.

This isn’t a dark romance love story built on sweetness. It’s built on denial. On want. On the kind of hunger that doesn’t ask for permission even when you want it to. MARA LENNOX’S P.O.V. The Rink Bar, Post -Game I notice him before I let myself notice him. Shit! If that’s even a thing?

Most of all, he hated how Jaxon always made him feel a half-step too slow. Tonight was the final regular-season matchup between the Thunder Wolves and the Storm Hawks. The winner would carry all the momentum into the nationals. Zane had promised his team… and himself… he would crush Jaxon once and for all. The first period was pure war. Zane smashed Jaxon into the boards so hard the glass shook. Jaxon bounced right back, his eyes sparkling with defiance. “That's all you got, Zane?” he shouted over the screaming crowd. Zane responded with a sharp, nasty stick check, then stole the puck and fired it straight into the net. The red light flashed. Thunder Wolves 1, Hawks 0.

"Their defense leaves gaps on odd man rushes. But if you miss, Kade, I call you out. Loud." "Call it," Kade replied. "Just make sure it helps the team. Not your grudge." Grudge hung thick. Viktor said, "Grudge keeps me alive. Hospital food tasted like dirt. Nurses asked what happened. I told them a teammate stabbed me in the back." "Not stabbed," I interrupted. "Hockey play. We move past it. Toronto game is here. Rivalry means everything." Rico tried to lighten it. "Remember last Toronto trip? We stole the win in overtime. Crowd went silent."

“People always reminded me who he was. The famous player. The handsome star. The man who could date anyone.” Her fingers twisted together. “They acted like I had won something when he wanted me.” I did not interrupt. “At first, it felt romantic. Then every disagreement became proof I was ungrateful. If he cancelled plans, I needed to understand because hockey came first. If I complained, he reminded me how many women would gladly accept my place.” Anger tightened in my chest. “He said that?” “Not always directly.” “That does not make it better.” “I know that now.” She looked at me.

As soon as I pushed the door to the conference room of the Dallas Renegades hockey team open, four pairs of eyes snapped up to me: my coach, my agent, the team’s PR manager, and, of course, the team’s general manager. I should have been intimidated by their stares, but after hearing most of it from my agent and PR manager on the way to the airport last night and on the flight here, I was almost beyond caring. “Take a seat, Wolfe,” Coach Jackson commanded.

How couldn’t he have noticed me all these years? I turned away from them and followed Damian until we got to the other side of the room. There I saw some familiar faces seated round the table. Some of them were part of his hockey team. I thought he said he was meeting them tomorrow? “You are finally here, Dam” one of them said as he pulled out a chair for me, a gesture I was not expecting. I looked at him and he nodded. What kind of sick game was he trying to play now. He only asked me to be his girlfriend, he didn’t say he was going to be extremely nice to me in the process.