Novel & Cerita Lgbt Hockey Romance

“Are you sure you’re okay? I can bring you back to my packhouse. Keep an eye on you.” I answer too fast. “No, I’m fine.” He arches a brow just slightly, like he’s not buying it. My palm grazes across his cheek and I manage to give him a small smile, “I promise.” The engine hums softly to life. I close my eyes and let the silence finish this night for me. Instead, Adrian talks about work, contractors, and the meetings he expects to run too long tomorrow. He mentions something about Nash nearly taking a defenseman’s at his last game and I remember that Nash gave us tickets for tomorrow’s game.

The headlines were ruthless: “Thunder’s Captain Lachlan and Rookie Star Rhys Spark Romance Rumors” “First Openly Gay Power Couple in NHL History? Sources Say Yes” “From Ice to Fire: Brooks Rhys and Callan Lachlan Heating Up Off the Rink” I scrolled through them in silence, stomach in knots. The link pulsed with shared tension my anxiety feeding into Callan’s controlled fury and back again in an endless loop. Callan stood behind me, shirtless, reading over my shoulder. His hand rested heavy on my hip, thumb stroking slow circles that were meant to calm me but only made the new dose thrum hotter under my skin.

They whispered when they thought he wasn't listening. “Captain is extra pissed today.” “Probably still mad about the loss.” If only they knew the real reason. Across town, Jaxon was doing the exact same thing with the Storm Hawks. He skated up and down the ice like something was chasing him. His ankle still hurt a little from the game, but he ignored it. Every time he closed his eyes during breaks, he saw Zane's shocked face after the kiss. He kept waving it off. It was nothing… he thought. Just a stupid mistake, leftover anger from the game.

He pulled me closer, kissing me slow and deep, pouring everything he couldn't say into it. Ryan watched for a moment, then joined—lips on my neck, hand stroking my hair. "We love you," he whispered. "More than anything." "I love you both," I said, voice thick. "So much it scares me sometimes." Roy smiled against my lips. "Good kind of scared." We stayed like that for a long time—talking softly, sharing pieces of our hearts we'd held back before. Fears about the future, dreams for after hockey, promises to face whatever came next side by side.

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?”

The bond between us stayed steady even in the middle of the war. The sudden spark of our bond flared up my spine, a wave of sea salt cutting through the cold stadium air. Noah’s eyes met mine through his visor, burning with pure, unyielding devotion. "Nice try, Bennett," I muttered as we skated past each other. "Just getting started, Cross," Noah replied, his voice rough and steady. During a stoppage near the penalty box, Noah skated past the New York bench. His gloved hand dropped, his fingers brushing my hip beneath my heavy padding. The touch was quick, hidden from the refs, but the biological heat between us burned like wildfire.

“Then we need to get you out of this room before you start thinking yourself into a grave.” I chuckled, shaking my head. “There’s a hockey game tonight,” she said. “North Valley against Redwood. It’ll be loud, violent, and full of people making bad decisions. Perfect distraction.” “I know nothing about hockey,” I said, sipping coffee. “Neither do half the girls there. They go for Axel Hale.” I frowned. “Who?” Lena stared at me like I had admitted I did not know what the moon was. “Hockey captain. Richer than Midas. Gorgeous. Completely unhinged on the ice. Women love him. Men want to be him. He is the bad boy of the college. Rawr!”

He’s just focused on getting the best out of his client, Cicero, and is ready to go the extra mile to do that if he needs to. So, at that time, when the act took place, I found a way to convince him that if Cicero finds out, it will affect his career, knowing he doesn’t play with Cicero’s career. So, he agreed to keep my secret because, as we all know, Cicero is a ticking time bomb. Frank opens the door, and the faint scent of men's cologne, heat, and masculine odor permeates the air. The sight of half-naked hockey players hits me as he leads the way, walking ahead, while good-looking and well-chiseled hockey athletes stare and whistle as we pass them.

The lighting made it look incredibly intimate. ​"The media is loving us," Ethan explained as I stared at the screen. "Our chemistry, the look, all of it. They think we're the next big sports IT-couple. Look at the comments." ​ I scrolled down reluctantly. He wasn't lying. The internet was losing its mind over the mysterious girl next to the NHL’s golden boy. ​"Okay, but I don't really follow," I said, handing the phone back to him as a strange knot formed in my stomach. I hated the idea of my face being plastered across social media. "We aren't a thing."

Six months of rewriting the blueprints of my own mind on and off the ice. I glide toward the center line, the black obsidian captain’s C stitched into my heavy hockey jersey catching the glare of the overhead arena lights. The internal scars left by Ethan Cole haven't vanished—they never truly will—but they have been entirely recontextualized. They are no longer monuments to my violation; they are the armor my wolf wears. A shadow falls over my left flank, a dark, rich scent of pine and absolute authority hitting my senses a millisecond before the heavy impact of a massive body aligns perfectly with mine.