Hot Hockey Players Novels & Stories

“Since when do we keep secrets from each other?” Xavier quickly shakes his head, but I can tell he’s nervous about something. “No, I’m not hiding anything from you,” he says, but his voice doesn’t sound convincing at all. He pauses for a moment, then continues, “I just met somebody online a few days ago. The person happens to be a hockey player, so we were just chatting about sports and stuff. Nothing more than that.” I look at him carefully, studying his expression. Something about his explanation doesn’t feel right to me.

I was getting hopeful that we were on the right track to getting my memories back. The feeling continued as I walked through the halls and the chill of the rink washed over me. A few memories came back to me, but they were small snippets, too small to piece together. I looked through the windows of the doors to the rink and spotted a figure in a black hoodie and black sweatpants gliding along the ice. I watched as he slapped a few shots into the net with the utmost anger, shards of ice could be seen flying as his stick scraped the ground.

Ella's POV "No, I can't do that. I can't take his life even though I have the chance," I replied to Delilah. We were sitting in the bleachers, watching the hockey team practice. Kael and Damon were on the ice, moving fast across the frozen surface like they were born there. Their skates cut sharp lines into the ice while the sound of sticks hitting pucks echoed through the arena. Cold air brushed against my face, but somehow it didn't bother me.

The tall one had blonde hair, brown eyes, a bag over his shoulders and daring look while the other had blue hair with blue eyes, his face was cute, like a fallen angel. “That’s Emory and Marsh, Emory is the captain of the hockey team” Xyla whispered in my eyes, it felt like talking about them openly would inquire consequences. I looked over at them, their seat were aligned. Emory sat behind Marsh. A part of the hockey team, I thought about it, seeing them made me excited, I couldn’t wait to apply for the hockey team. “Marsh is the right defenseman” Adele added. I nodded, then she leaned closer.

But I was already here, already committed to this insane idea of watching Ace play hockey like some kind of stalker. I found a seat in the middle section where I could see everything but hopefully blend into the small crowd of students who'd shown up for the evening practice. My knee throbbed a little from the walk over, but it was manageable. Better than it had been in weeks. The team was already on the ice, running drills. I spotted Ace immediately, number seventeen, moving across the ice like it was the most natural thing in the world. He made it look effortless, the way he controlled the puck, the way he shifted his weight and changed direction without even seeming to think about it.

I am still the captain of this ice. Two more rogues jumped onto the ice, their faces twisting into furious snarls. They did not like being embarrassed by a human. They charged at Holden at the same time, running fast across the wet surface. Holden did not freeze up. He used his sports training, shifting his weight and spinning to the left just as the first rogue lunged. The monster flew past him, sliding uselessly into the boards. Before the second rogue could grab him, Holden brought the hockey stick down hard, slamming the thick wooden blade right into the rogue’s knee.

“He cracked my rib. Cheap shot. He should’ve been suspended.” Diego’s face went dark. “Everett doesn’t play hockey, he hunts and the refs let him do it.” I raised my voice. “I know how you guys feel about Whyte, but we can’t go in hot-headed. We go in disciplined. We go in as a team.”

My stomach dropped. Hockey statistics? I hadn’t looked at a hockey stat sheet in five years. December. Rookie season. Penalty minutes. I stared at him blankly. How the hell was I supposed to know that? Zane hadn’t even made it to the NHL when we were together. I’d watched him play college hockey, but once we broke up, his career had taken off without me. “Forty-two?” I guessed. The assistant shook his head. My heart sank. “No. Sorry. You have one more—”

We kept at it…stopping only for grueling push-ups on the ice, then right back to full-ice scrimmages. I skated until my muscles screamed, my lungs burned, and my vision blurred….Finally, the physical agony was enough to make her scent of cherries and vanilla fade from my senses. "Alright guys, good job today!" Coach shouted, blaring his whistle three times to signal the end. Every single one of us collapsed onto the ice, chest heaving ignoring the freezing chill seeping through our gear. Laughter broke out mixed with our pants. ‘Yeah, this is good.’ I lived for this. The violence of hockey took my mind off life's chaos, pushed my body to its limits, and gave me a good rush of adrenaline that

A few more players drifted in, louder now, the rink starting to echo with skate bags hitting benches and locker doors opening. One of them noticed me and slowed slightly. “You’re the journalist, right?” he asked. “Yes.” He grinned a little. “Coach said we’re not allowed to run from you.” I gave him a small, polite smile. “That would make my job easier, actually.” He laughed and moved on. The coach gestured slightly toward the rink. “They’ll warm up in about ten minutes. You’ll have a small window before full drills start.”