Sport Novels & Stories

I knew just how to fix both their asses though. "Thanks Grimaldi that's very nice of you now can we get back to work?" "Sure, I just came by to give Katarina her little gift. I know how she loves speed so when I saw this little beauty I knew she had to have it. It's the only one like it in the states I think there's only a handful in existence. It goes from zero to sixty in two point four seconds."

-Yes, I'm studying law, I've transferred to one here- I answer. -That's very nice, little one. -And how are the competitions going? I ask enthusiastically and he smiles. -Well, although there is a boy who is very good but he refuses the legal ones- he says. -Is he good? -The best, but he doesn't change his mind. -It's his loss. -Tomorrow come to train- he says excitedly. -Mhm, ok, what time? -Six o'clock here, if you're late you'll find out- he says, pointing at me accusingly. I raise my hands in amusement.

He couldn't forget the agility if the lady the moment she hopped onto his back, Eric, who usually sits at the back with his boss was at the front seat, occasionally stealing glances from his boss through the rear view mirror, an immense itch of gossip filled his gut, it was not everyday that you found your missing boss tied up in a rundown apartment having eaten nothing all night. And to say it was Drake Wilson, the best at Martial arts and close combat in their circle was totally a huge selling piece of gossip. But Eric knew his moments, just not now.

Jessica asked. “Palm Springs, he has a championship match there next week,” Malachi said as Adara stood to one side. Malachi turned towards her and looked at her. “He always did like a good fight,” Adara said softly. “Are you okay?” he asked her and she nodded her head, still crying. “I’m okay, I’m just…something.” “It’ll be okay, Adara, let’s just get him home,” Malachi said as he hugged her again.

He was a key piece, one that needed to be carefully maneuvered, or removed altogether. The figure watched as the man’s car disappeared around a corner, then turned away from the window, moving to a desk cluttered with documents, maps, and a laptop. They sat down and began typing, their fingers moving swiftly over the keys. Each keystroke was a calculated move in the intricate chess game they were playing—a game where every player was a potential pawn or a threat.

I sip my drink lightly, and my eyes nearly water—the burning liquid hugs my throat like hot coals, sliding to my stomach like bile. After twenty minutes, Sam’s face is blurred, Mark’s laughter echoes in my ears, and I feel a delicious happiness slipping between my teeth, my reddened eyes. “I’ll put on music,” Sam shouts, dragging the words firmly, standing and walking confidently toward the huge speakers. “Let’s play, forget the cards in the game,” Mark interrupts, looking up. “One question for the winner and a challenge for the loser,” he adds, firm but imprecise. “My turn.”

"I do fancy a nice game of cricket" "I said sport, Alexi." I arch a brow. "Cricket is a sport. It's a fine sport." She argues. "No, it's not a real sport. A real sport is basketball, baseball, or hockey. That sort of deal." I roll my head to the ceiling. "Listen here, Mister Luke Jackson..." She pokes my chest. I roll my head to her. "Um. Alpha...Alpha Luke Jackson..." I correct. She giggles. "Alpha Luke Jackson. Just because you don't understand the skill involved, doesn't mean it isn't a real sport."

Kaori-nee was a good cook and the food did not allow me to make a distasteful face at him. “That much?” Hiro-san chuckled, raking a hand through his dyed light hair. I still haven’t figured out whether calling it white or silver or grey or a really light shade of black (which would mean that it wasn’t black) would do it justice. Either way, it suited him. It complimented his eyes. “Do you miss playing basketball so much?” “Mm. Not really. I hadn’t really thought about it. The last time that I played was in university. The dream just made me remember it. That’s all.”

A second glance confirmed the woman was Adeline. "Wendy?" Jasto waved a hand before her eyes. "What do you think?" Wendy snapped back to reality and shook her head. "Sorry, I promised... I need to stay inside." "Then..." Jasto pulled out his phone, clearly hoping to exchange socials. Sensing his intent, Wendy deftly deflected. "Why’s everyone crowding the stage? I’ll check it out." The American sports scene was booming, with competitions in every discipline. But one quirk stood out: whether football, hockey, basketball, or others, teams adored animal names—Bears, Rams, Bucks, and the like.

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