Novel & Cerita Romance Novels About Hockey Players

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

“Have you been going around telling people we’re sleeping together?” His eyes shifted sideways. “Why would I do that?” “Then, why did some random girl from my class who looks like she would be the last person to care about something like this, say you have been confirming all the rumours about us, which doesn’t help the other rumours about me!” His face turned stone cold. “What rumours about you?” I scoffed. “Like you haven’t heard. I’m the hockey slut, I supposedly let all the players have their turn at me before I go running back to you. Ring a bell?”

"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."

Tamara’s POV Hockey practice on Monday was like watching a car crash happen in slow motion. I didn’t mean to go. I told myself I was just walking to the rink to grab a textbook Elena had left there after the game. That was the lie I told myself, and I almost believed it until I found myself standing in the bleachers with my backpack slung over one shoulder, watching them warm up.

” A pair of strong hands caught my arms before I could bounce backward. “Are you lost, love?” I looked up. He was tall—the kind of height that came with playing center, built broad through the shoulders and chest in the way that hockey did to people if they’d stuck with it long enough. His dark hair pushed back from his forehead like it had been pushed back many times tonight, with a finely carved jawline. I registered his hands on my arms—they were light but there. And I knew that face, not from here. I knew it from two seasons ago, across the ice—game five of the regional semifinals. Harlow versus Westbrook. I’d watched that face score three goals in the third period like he was personally

That's what I said two months ago when I got fired from my job as a kitchen assistant at Wendies, that's what I also said a month ago when my sister Katherine had took us out to celebrate her divorce, that's what I also said two weeks ago when my boyfriend of two years had broken up with me and left the country to pursue his education. Clearly, I was a liar. And now, here I am drinking again at a team dinner to celebrate me joining Saint Aurelius University as their new hockey coach while pursuing my masters in the grad division. “Let's go for round two!” One suggested, I looked at him and he looked fucked up real bad. The alcohol in his system made it hard for him to keep a steady posture,

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."

“Did you see that, Marie? He told me he loved me.” “No. Ouch.” She pulled away and massaged her fingers. “He only winked at you. He does that all the time to his fans.” “No but this one was a very unique one.” I return my gaze to the hockey match, my eyes following every move Ajax makes. “He's so dreamy.” I smiled. “Eww! Stop drooling at my boyfriend.” The water bottle hit my head in a loud chunk and I whipped around to find Missy Cooper laughing with her friends.

When the food came, it was incredible—avocado toast with poached eggs, fresh fruit, and some kind of pastry that melted in my mouth. "So," Paloma said, taking a sip of her coffee. "Tell me about yourself. What's it like dating a famous hockey player? Is it as glamorous as everyone thinks?" I laughed, almost choking on my coffee. "Glamorous? Not exactly. More like chaotic and complicated and occasionally terrifying." "Terrifying?" she asked, leaning forward with interest. "The attention," I explained. "The cameras. The fans. Everyone having opinions about your relationship. It's a lot."

Better than the rich kids who could buy their way back if they fucked up. And now this. Now Damien, with his smirks and his hands and his voice notes that made my stomach flip even when I hated him. Now Jax, showing up like some quiet hero who didn’t ask for anything. I couldn’t be poor and gay at the same time. Not in this world. Not in hockey. Everyone knew the stories , guys who came out, got dropped from teams, lost endorsements before they even started, became locker-room jokes or worse, became nothing at all.