Romance Books About Hockey Players Novels & Stories

“What? No! Alex, don’t you dare say that. I didn’t tell you this so you’d throw away everything you’ve worked for your whole life!” “Hockey’s been my dream since I was five years old,” I said, my voice steady and sure. “But dreams change. I’ve known so many people, been with so many girls… even you, back then, when we were both broken and reckless and hiding from the truth. But the girl I met that night at the club—drunk, crying, throwing up on my shirt, begging me not to leave her alone… that girl wasn’t just someone I slept with. That was you. The real you. And that changed everything.”

Rowan smirked. I moved to stand close to the coach as Casper had said, the old man had the looks of someone that could shit in his pants right away but masked it off. From few chairs away, I saw him, Orion and he saw me, when our eyes met, he dragged someone by her hair, kissing her furiously. It was probably Luna and he had done it, to get to me but they said what you don't know doesn't kill you. The whistle went off, and the game began with the voice of the supporters erupting throught out the entire rink.

brushed against her in the kitchen, my hand grazing her hip. She jumped, her book nearly falling from her hands. "Sorry, Em," I said, but my voice was low, husky. "No problem," she mumbled, but her cheeks were pink, and she wouldn't meet my eyes. I started leaving little hints. One evening, I found one of her books on the coffee table, a steamy romance with dog-eared pages. I flipped through it, reading a scene where the hero pins the heroine against a wall, thrusting into her with raw passion.

That earned him a puck flicked at his shin. “Don’t bring Skylar into this,” I warned, smirking. “Oh, come on, Captain,” Liam said. “Half the team’s living for your little romance arc. You’re like the hockey version of a Hallmark movie.” “Yeah,” Peter added. “The brooding athlete and the artsy girl who heals his soul with eyeliner and emotional honesty.” “Keep talking, and I’ll heal your jaw with a slap shot,” I said briskly to them. They howled with laughter, and even I couldn’t hold back a smile.

The phone buzzed on my kitchen counter like a bomb going off at five in the morning. I grabbed it fast, still half asleep from the night skate with Kade. The headline on the sports blog hit me like a slap shot to the chest. "EXCLUSIVE: Blurred Photos Show Two Toronto Blades Players in Steamy Alley Kiss." The pictures were grainy and dark but you could make out two guys in team hoodies, bodies close, mouths locked. My heart slammed hard. I dialed Kade right away.

Inside, the VIP area, it was louder, more chaotic and there were luxury drinks everywhere. There was a group of men looking so fly, amongst them was a man who wore an expensive fur-robe. He had male-strippers around him. "Rally! Didn't think you'd be here tonight" Elliot called, smirking. "Are you kidding me? This is my home." Rally laughed loudly. He stood up and pulled Elliot into a brotherly hug. Then his eyes shifted, they landed on Nervous Jade. "Jade Riccio" "One of my favourite hockey player. You'll forever remain goated, my guy" Rally said with a grin and pulling Jade into a brotherly hug.

The way the camera catches things the naked eye misses. He stepped closer, leaning against the neighboring locker. "The way you and Miller look at each other... it’s not hockey, Liam. It’s something else.And very vulnerable." "I told you, it’s chemistry. I can’t be fighting with my teammate who was once my roommate," I snapped, finally looking him in the eye. "If you’re so interested in film, maybe you should spend more time studying the plays so you could be better on the rink and less time playing detective."

The sight of these four hockey giants—men who had body-checked opponents into the boards and fought through seasons of grueling violence—trying to navigate the delicate art of pocket squares and boutonnières was pure magic. Knox was currently trying to pin a yellow sunflower onto Dmitri’s lapel. Dmitri, the stoic Russian enforcer, was standing perfectly still, his massive arms hanging at his sides as if he were guarding a goal post. "It is a flower, Knox," Dmitri said in his thick, gravelly voice. "It is not a puck. Do not hit it." Jax looked up and saw me. The way his face changed—the way his expression instantly softened, shifting from playful camaraderie to a look of such profound, quiet

I am greeted by the players as I make way through the stench. While fumbling, to get my key in the lock, Alfie questions “Is that what you're wearing tonight to have dinner with my mom.” “You do mean dinner with you and your mom, right?” I ask hesitantly. These boys and their attempts to set me up this summer have got me riled up. Let’s just say Candy wasn’t the last puck bunny that Quickie brought by. I had the unique pleasure to see the disappointment in the eyes of Tiffany, Foxy, Bambi, just to name a few. Even Kingston “King”, my left defenseman from Russia, brought over his 60-something year old aunt in an attempt to ‘save me from the single life’. She was nice enough and damn, her

"Look, I get it. New guy, hockey captain, whatever. But I'm not interested in charity cases." Charity case. The words echoed in my head, each repetition cutting deeper. "I was trying to read," I managed to say, my voice shaking. "In the history section? Right." He leans closer, and I can smell his cologne, expensive, confident. Everything I'm not. "Let me guess. You're one of those girls who thinks if she hangs around long enough, maybe the popular guy will notice her?" "No, I..." "Well, congratulations. I noticed. And here's some free advice find someone in your own league."