Hot Hockey Players Novels & Stories

It was bigger than anything they'd ever experienced and unfortunately— The players here were monsters, not literal monsters. Just hockey players who looked like they had been engineered in science laboratories. Fast, strong and ridiculously skilled. Like those kinds of players who made good athletes feel like average babies. Nikola discovered this thirty minutes into practice when somebody flattened him… absolutely flattened him to the ground. Because one second he was skating up straight and the next— He was staring at the ceiling. Silence filled the rink as the thud echoed through the entire rink. Then Joshua pointed aggressively.

Force my expression to remain neutral. “That's a big deal,” I say, keeping my tone light. “You nervous?” “Terrified.” He laughs, running a hand through his blonde hair. “We've been working toward this all season. Everything comes down to one game.” “You will be great.” I mean it. Adrian is talented, dedicated. I've heard enough about hockey from Maya to know he's one of the best players in the league. “I hope so.” He leans forward, his blue eyes finding mine. “Will you come? To the game?”

I take a few shots of him, with his teammate but of course more of him since he’s the subject of my new article. Hockey players really were a different species. I mean the amount of gear they wear alone should make movement impossible, yet somehow they moved across ice smoother than most people walked on solid ground. The padding bulked their bodies into something larger, rougher, all broad shoulders making them look like aggressive silhouettes beneath team colors. The hockey gear up close looks genuinely terrifying, with their massive shoulder pads, compression shirts damp with sweat before games even start, the tape wrapped obsessively around sticks and wrists.

I look away when she disappears through the corner, my eyes catching a large screen TV mounted on the wall opposite from me. There are a handful of men gathered around, beer in hand, their eyes glued to an ice hockey match playing on the screen. A picture of Jack playing on the rink back in high school flashes through my mind, and I quickly shake my head, expelling such precarious thoughts as quickly as it came. One of the players is hit with a hockey stick so hard he goes down almost immediately, causing everyone to gasp in horror. The game is put on hold as medics quickly rush to the scene, hoisting him up onto a stretcher as he writhes in pain, clutching his injured limb.

Okay, maybe mocking the giant hockey player isn’t the smartest survival instinct, but he started it. He exhales sharply before dropping onto the bed opposite mine. The mattress creaks beneath his weight as he leans forward, elbows resting on his knees. For the first time since he walked in, I properly look at him. I've heard about hockey players being ridiculously hot and all. Back home, the guys aren't bad but if there's one thing I've come to realize? It's that they are certainly a group of obnoxious bunch who think the world revolves around them. You're an athlete? Who cares? We're all athletes. Just do your thing and get it over with. But no. They want everybody they come across to know

“On your team’s most difficult players.” She handed it over and gave me a wink. “The Vipers are insane. This will help you handle all their issues.” I flipped open the file, and there he was. Noah Hudson. Hockey’s biggest bad boy, captured mid-glare, helmet under his arm, shirt half off, tattoos peeking through the edge of his shoulder pads. Even in a still image, he looked like he was seconds away from a fight. Or something worse. Lucia leaned over my shoulder. “Okay, I’m just gonna say it. He’s hot.”

John held hands while they patiently answered question for the crowd until Bentsen managed to get them out of the terminal, Word is that Vorchak will be the new spokesman and public face for the Kids and Hockey Foundation. HFK provides opportunities for kids who want to play hockey, including those with some physical challenge. They also award a number of college scholarships annually. Before making his escape from the crowd, Vorchak also indicated that he would be making a substantial contribution to the foundation himself. We wish Matt and Liz a lot of happiness and look forward to seeing more of both of them. End of Part One: Body Check

"Hockey stuff. You care about that, right?" Liv shrugged. "Whatever." Then it hit, the breaking news banner flashed: "HOCKEY STAR ROWAN INVOLVED IN SERIOUS MOTORCYCLE Crash LIVE FROM THE SCENE." Liv froze, taco halfway to her mouth. "What the. " The reporter's voice blared: "We're live near the downtown bridge where pro hockey player Rowan has reportedly crashed his bike. Eyewitnesses say he lost control, went down hard. Paramedics are on site, but details are scarce. This is developing… "

"Okay," Adrien began, tapping the book with his pen. "Hockey has offense and defense. You have six players on the ice per team. Three forwards, two defensemen, and a goalie. The forwards are responsible for scoring goals, while the defensemen focus on stopping the other team from scoring. The goalie, obviously, is the last line of defense." I nodded, trying to visualize what he was describing. It seemed straightforward enough, but the speed and intensity of the game had always intimidated me. "So, what am I expected to do?" I asked, hoping he would say everything simple.

Three… Two… With a sound like a gunshot, the puck flies into the capitals net. The force is too much even for the goalie to stop it. Milliseconds later, the buzzer sounds. The audience explodes into rocks. Cheers. Phase of the freezer beside themselves with joy. I feel adrenaline pumping through my veins, almost as if I had been the one playing hockey. Aiden’s team skates toward him and pulls him into an aggressive group hug each cheering for him. The capital players watch with vitriol for a moment before skulking back to the locker room.