Hot Hockey Players Novels & Stories

Wasn't his older brother supposed to be disabled? "Your... your brother plays hockey?" I asked. "Uh-huh! He's super good at it," Seth explained proudly, bouncing on his heels. "If he really wanted to play for the NHL, he could have gone pro a long time ago. But he's waiting until he graduates from college first. That's why he chose a school where the hockey program is only Division 2, so it's not always broadcast on national TV. He doesn't want the big NHL scouts to spot him yet. He's hiding."

He pointed toward the elevator. “I want the little idiot who used to smile every time he stepped onto fresh ice.” I laughed. “I can do that.” “I know you can.” ⸻ That evening, the coaches gathered all forty players in one of the conference rooms. The walls were covered with banners. NHL logos. USA Hockey. Development programs. Names of former players who’d stood exactly where we were standing now. Some had gone on to win Stanley Cups. Others had never played a single NHL game. The showcase director stepped to the front.

on the skating roster? Before I could type no, Tessa sent another text: “Gerald Lennox is gonna be there.” My heart skipped a beat. Gerald Lennox was captain of the university’s hockey team. Six-foot-something, broad shoulders, with hair that looked windswept like he’d just stepped out of a cologne advertisement. I’d seen him around campus a handful of times. I shook my head. “No” I whispered to myself. Guys like Gerald didn’t look at girls like me.

I grabbed my two friend’s arms and dragged them out of the lunch room to our next class. I had to hang around after school, waiting for Jake and Liam to finish their hockey practice. I snuck into the rink and hid at the back so I wouldn’t be seen. We weren’t allowed in here during practice because their coach said that girls distracted the players. I loved to watch their hockey games; there was just something about the way they glided over the ice so fast and gracefully. They were doing sprints at the moment, skating from one line to the other as fast as they could, then they had to dribble a puck around a load of cones, and finally they were all taking turns shooting at the goal, with my br

Arabel has spent years worshipping two people: the boyfriend who made her feel chosen and the mother who made her feel safe. Both shatter in one night. After catching Daniel and her mother together, she flees home and moves into the girls’ hostel at school, determined to disappear into hockey and silence. Damian Kane—her captain, the undefeated god of the ice—has always been off-limits. Controlled. Distant. Dangerous. The night she breaks, he finds her. What follows is brutal, carnal, and seared into her memory. She wakes up hating him for it. Only later does she learn the truth: Damian had been drugged with a powerful aphrodisiac. He was not entirely himself. And once the haze cle

he said when I joined him, and I looked at the list. Several hockey players were assigned to different groups, along with athletes from other sports and members of the athletic staff. Then I saw my name. TEAM THREE Rhett Kane….Hockey My eyes moved lower, and my entire body froze. Wren Matthews….. Hockey Operations For a second, I simply stared at the paper. “You okay?” Deacon noticed. “Yeah! I'm just surprised they put me with staff.” I stepped closer to the board and pretended to study the rest of the names.

Has she really forgotten? “Ryker, what are your thoughts?” I look up, caught off guard. “On what?” “We’re going through names on the roster. Half the team is out with food poisoning from those damn homemade cookies, so the roster.” I shrug. “I don’t know. Do any of the names actually play hockey?” “You weren’t listening. Coach mentioned Jax,” Quinn mutters beside me. I snap my head up. “Since when was he on the roster? He’s a figure skater, not hockey.”

“If I had my way that daughter of ours wouldn’t be dating until she is thirty-five.” “You forget we were young like that once and hot for each other.” “Petal, I’m still burning hot for you like wildfire. I’m lusting after that amazing body of yours as we speak, in between having palpitations over Nastia and that guy out there. What is he, a jock of some kind? I mean he’s big, right?” Madi chuckles. “He’s a hockey player, you know who that is. He’s the kid that everyone is talking about, Ranger. He’s from New York, he transferred schools for the programme here in Austin.”

I had to warn Evans. By the time I navigated the crowded concourse and talked my way past a suspicious security guard ("I'm Tamine Jordan, the academic tutor, I have Mr. Thorpe's study materials!"), ten minutes had passed. I reached the tunnel just as the buzzer sounded for warmups. The double doors swung open, and the Blackridge hockey team poured out onto the ice, a blur of black and silver. The crowd roared. I scanned the players. There was Ryker in net, stretching his hamstrings. There were the defensemen, pairing off for passing drills.

"You know what, Coach? I barely know anything about you." He blinks, caught off guard by the subject change. "What?" "I know you're an ex-hockey player. That's it. You should tell me more. Your career. Your story. All of it." "I don't see how that's relevant—" "Humor me." He studies my face for a moment, then sighs. "Alright. I played college hockey at Michigan. Got drafted to the NHL—Chicago Blackhawks. Played three seasons before I tore my ACL in a game against Boston."