Ice Skater Hockey Player Book の小説・ストーリー

"Twice. You didn't pick up." I pulled off my gloves and dropped them on the desk. "I was on the ice." "I know where you were." She set the leather folder on the desk and opened it without ceremony. "Sit down, Luca." I sat… She laid three printed pages in front of me. The first was a screenshot collection, fan accounts and sports commentary, all circling the same exhibition game footage I had been trying to stop thinking about for four days. The second was a social media analytics report with certain sections highlighted in yellow. The third was an article from a mid-tier sports culture site with the headline underlined in red pen: *Devereaux and Calloway: Hockey Rivalry or Something Else?*

Lila's Pov The cold air from the rink still hit my face even though I wasn’t stepping inside. I stood at the entrance, holding my bag, telling myself I was only here to watch Harper practice. Not to play. Not to skate. Not to remember. The sound of skates cutting through ice used to be my favorite sound in the world. Now it just made my chest tighten. “You coming in or what?” Harper called from inside, leaning over the railing with her helmet under her arm.

So, I slipped out of bed, bare feet pressing into the cold floor. I stopped in front of my father’s library. He never locked it—he didn’t need to. I scanned the shelves, searching for anything that could help me. Surely somewhere in this endless maze of knowledge, there had to be something about hockey. Some book that could tell me what I was missing or maybe a book to help me improve the skills I never had. While still hoping that luck shined on me, My hand hovered until I spotted it: *The Fundamentals of Ice Hockey.*

“This is just my equipment room.” “Just?” I walked closer to the stuff. I don't want to film with my phone. I'd rather use my camera which I didn't come with. So next time. I typed into my notepad again: He got a spot dedicated to his hockey materials. Extremely organized and neat. I smiled, staring at the photograph. I noticed a book shelf. They're not books related to hockey. “Wait, so you read?” “Yeah. I read novels and books when I'm tired of scrolling.”

She was already dealing with enough. I had just stepped into campus when Sarah came running up to me like a storm. “Guess what,” she said, eyes wide like a child on Christmas. “We have a hockey match today. A real one. With actual college scouts and everything. And guess who’s the starting player?” I didn’t answer. I already knew. “Dominic Lakes,” she said with a dramatic sigh. “God, he’s so hot. You think he’s single?” I rolled my eyes. “Why would I care?”

Chapter 140 TRINA'S POV I couldn't believe I was doing this. Fucking Christ. My bag felt like lead as I clutched the straps, my heart pounding as I walked into the empty rink, the sound of skate shoes against ice loud. My gaze darted around the fully geared players skating through, their stickers hitting and sliding the puck across the ice while the coach watched from the sidelines. My gaze fell on the hunched figure on the sidelines, dark hair falling into his face.

My hiking addiction has advantages of keeping my legs in tone with the perfect shape for strength and endurance. I see the hockey players and send a quick wave their way, but they turn their backs to me and I can't help but wonder if I've done something wrong or offended them somehow. Shoot, they're probably upset they have to spend their Saturday here at a school pushing books on a bunch of kids who are about as interested in reading as they would be learning to crochet with their grandmas. The kids are allowed to enter at ten o’clock am and follow through the path of tables, entertaining themselves with games and events, earning candy, fidgets, and most importantly books along the way.

Noah POV The ice at the Chicago Wolves training center burned beneath my skates. Every stride, every pass, every shot demanded my full attention. If I slowed down for even a second, my thoughts would find Adrian. My team was counting on me. I did not want to let them down. Coach Harrison blew his whistle. Yelled at us to do it again. I pushed off hard. My skates cut into the ice. I got past a defenseman. I made a pass. Then I shot the puck into the corner. It hit the crossbar with a ping before going into the net.

"The university boosters are watching your personal life closely this season, Hayes. We have scouts from the NHL flying in for the Stanford game next month. The athletic board is already hyperventilating about the family name, and I cannot afford a massive scandal breaking apart my crew. You are the captain of this team. Do you know what that means?" "It means I score goals and keep the defense tight," I said flatly, leaning my hip against the edge of his filing cabinet. "My personal business doesn't affect my game. I'm on the ice six days a week, and I'm playing harder than anyone else on this roster. What I do outside the rink is my own damn problem."