Ice Hockey Romance Novels Novels & Stories

“I promised I wouldn’t talk about Alex anymore, but… I don’t know why I keep thinking about him. He hasn’t texted me in a long time, or he knows it will only open old wounds.” “It’s okay,” I said softly. “By the way, I saw it on my I*******m Explore. I’m sure it was Alex, but he was pictured with a few people, and right next to him was a girl. I’m not sure if it was him, but it looked like Alex.” “With a girl?” Kara’s eyes widened. “I heard from the hockey team that Alex moved to Paris, but after that, no one could contact him anymore. Maybe he’s moved on?”

Why not just do it now? I sighed loudly and started. “Well, it's not as crazy as yours. Some of us didn't join gangs.” I said sarcastically. “You wound me.” “Yeah. Err, I used to have this boyfriend earlier in college. He was….is a hockey player too. I really liked him then. Though he felt the same way about me. It turned out that he was with me basically because of a bet. Cliche right?” I laughed at my own joke. But nothing seemed funny to Liam because his face was witching up from what I could see here.

“They work." "They terrify me." "They should.” Sandra folds one elegant leg over the other. "The public doesn't see Mercer versus Locke as a hockey rivalry anymore." Jim nods. "What do they see?" She smiles. "They see mythology. They're opposite archetypes.” She gestures toward the screen. "Locke is discipline, Mercer is chaos. Locke is cold precision, Mercer is pure instinct. They’re the two biggest personalities in the league, and every time they're photographed within ten feet of one another our engagement explodes."

"Touchy subject. Got it. So is it daddy issues or new boyfriend issues? Because that look on your face screams 'man trouble.'" I pressed my fingers to my temples. "Why are you here, Ryan?" "Funny you should ask." He leaned forward, elbows on the table, grinning like the cat that ate the canary. "I got myself a hobby. Joined the NHL." I stared at him. Blinked. Stared some more. "I'm sorry, what?" "NHL, baby." He tapped the table twice. "Chicago Wolves. Just got called up." My brain tried to process this information and failed spectacularly.

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.

Ever. I pointed to the rest of the stuff, and he started moving it all, quiet and strong. The room felt smaller with him in it, but not in a bad way. Still, my mind wouldn’t stop. What if this was a trick? What if he got tired of me and left? The tension in my chest made it hard to breathe. After a few minutes, he broke the silence. “So, you like hockey at all? Or is it just something you clean up after?”

Ice hockey is one of the most brutal sports you can participate in. We nod with understanding and take our respective places on the ice. The whistle blow, the cheering and foot pounding in the stands is deafening. I look over to the glass and it hits me in my chest so damn hard, I feel as if I am winded that my girl, Immi is not there. I know she can’t be but fuck it hurts. And then I see her, fucking, damn Luna. How the fuck did she get a place right at the front in our special box are?

“Oh, we can fuck the same woman at the same time but I can’t touch your sweaty ass hand?” “It’s different,” Drew shot back, but there was a grin in his voice. “Your hand is clammy.” “My hand is not clammy. Yours is the one that’s all sweaty from gripping the sheets like a virgin.” Nora couldn’t help it, a soft chuckle bubbled out of her, turning into full laughter as the two hockey players continued bickering over her body like overgrown children. “Shut up, both of you,” she mumbled, still smiling, reaching up to thread her fingers through Drew’s hair while her other hand rested on Connor’s chest. “You’re ruining the moment.”

For those few minutes, I just wanted to enjoy being around the guys. Ronan suddenly reached for the comic I had been holding. “Hey.” “What?” I asked as he took it from my hand. “You haven't even read it.” “I was going to.” “You've been staring at the same page for five minutes.” I frowned at him. “I was thinking.” “About hockey?” “Obviously.” He gave me a look that told me he didn't believe me, but he handed the comic back anyway. I placed it on the table and settled against the pillows again.

I was carrying Damien's baby. Damien Volkov. The captain of Boston Wolves. Hockey's golden boy. One of the nation's most loved hockey stars. And I was now the mother of his child. The thought made my heart swell with joy. This news could change everything. If he found out that his child was growing inside me, maybe Damien would finally look at me. Maybe he would finally love me as his wife Maybe he would finally be proud enough to show me off to the public as NHL's Damien Volkov's wife.