Ice Skater Hockey Player Book นิยาย & เรื่องราว

NOAH'S POV The private indoor lake house was silent, lit only by the moody, dim blue lights reflecting off the sheets of ice. I stood by the edge of the rink, my skates already laced tightly, leaning against the glass. The chill in the air usually calmed my head, but tonight, my chest felt like a ticking bomb. The doors at the entrance finally creaked open. Calix stepped inside, clutching his hockey bag tightly against his chest. He was shivering from the midnight air, his black curls messy, his eyes darting around the huge, dark facility with defensive panic.

JUNO HAYES “Rhett, look this way!” the photographer called, snapping his fingers as the camera shutter clicked in rapid bursts. Rhett adjusted his grip on the hockey stick, tilting his body just so, the bright arena lights bouncing off his helmet and pads. The whole setup screamed polished—logo placements on the boards, gleaming skates, perfect posture. This was an ad for a major sports brand, and everyone in the rink knew he was the centerpiece.

The rink was empty, except for the faint scraping of skates against the ice. Mila pulled her jacket tighter around her shoulders, her breath visible in the chilled air. She had stayed late to check the equipment, organize some notes, and make sure everything was ready for the next day’s session. The solitude was familiar, comforting even. She liked this quiet moment after the chaos of practice, when the echoes of shouting and skates pounding the ice had faded, leaving only stillness.

It never occurred to him how much skill has to be involved. It's hard for him, as a spectator sitting still to keep an eye on it let alone for players gliding on the ice trying to keep track of the play in motion and mentally think a few plays ahead. it’s…kind of amazing. Andre moves around like the ice is his playground, with the other team hardly able to staynon his tail. Then he passes the puck into a perfect pocket where Daniel is waiting to score. The game continues… and it happens again. Andre gliding around untouchably. securing Daniel a golden shot on the net.

“We’re hitting the rink. You gotta learn to skate for real if we’re selling this boyfriend story.” I groaned but followed him anyway. The hockey rink was empty that early, just us and the cold air that made my nose sting. The ice looked smooth and scary under the bright lights. I laced up the skates, feeling clumsy already. My feet wobbled the second I stepped on. “Easy, dude,” Roland said, gliding over like it was nothing. “Bend your knees. Don’t lock up.”

A scoff followed after, almost like she didn’t believe the words coming out of my mouth, “You can’t be serious. It’s hockey!! A game of champions. Blake University has had the best team for years. We almost made it to the playoffs last year even, there’s no way you came in here without wanting to— “No.” I shook my head, “I think hockey is a game for losers.” “Aria!!” I remained defiant on my stance, “You heard me. I think hockey sucks, the concept of the whole game sucks, I think it’s a waste of student resources and the school’s money. I did my research and the school pumps a whole load into the team, which I think is pathetic. So you heard me loud and clear—Hockey is a game for losers.” I

As he descended the stairs, Lyon looked at the rippling muscle of Viktor’s frame and thought of a few unprofessional things he might like to order the goalie to do, too. He found a pair of skates and a stick. The pack gave them a wide berth, watching with predatory curiosity. Lyon stepped onto the ice, shivering slightly, but his heart was racing too fast for the cold to take hold. It was time for his secret: he hadn't just written about hockey because of the gossip. He had grown up in a house obsessed with the sport. He had spent his childhood chasing his brothers across frozen ponds. Viktor slid the puck toward him. Lyon caught it with the stick, a fluid, practiced motion. He slapped it ba

His blond hair was damp with sweat beneath his helmet, his mouth set in that focused, determined line that made me want to knock him against the boards just to see those lips unfurl into an angry sneer before he smashed our lips together. Okay, focus, Hayes. Shaking my head, I darted ahead, my skates slicing clean as my heart hammered. Again, though there were other team players on the ice, playing their respective position, all my eyes could see was that blonde haired idiot as he sent a fucking slick pass to me and I snatched it across the ice, driving toward the goal with a speed that left their defense scrambling. Someone slammed into my side—one of their bruisers, a six-two beast trying

COLE The rain wasn't just falling; it was trying to beat its way through the metal roof of the compound's garage. I was sitting on a workbench, sharpening my spare skates. The sound of the grinding stone was rhythmic and calming. In here, surrounded by the smell of motor oil, cold steel, and old tires, I felt like a regular guy again. I wasn't the Silverfang Prince or a spy. I was just a hockey player named Theo who happened to be deeply in love with a girl who could freeze a lake with a thought.

She pleaded and I huffed. "Dad, the footage?" "Shut up! Can't you see she isn't feeling well?" He snapped, then led her out of the room and I chuckled in amazement. I was beginning to enjoy this. ......... The next day was the hockey match and I made sure to ignore Donald all through classes today, heading to the men's locker room to see Griffin and get his jacket. The room seemed deserted and I was about to leave when I bumped into a huge rock, my nose almost bruising due to the impact.