College – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

College – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com Thu, 23 Apr 2026 22:53:13 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.9.4 http://www.ilovenovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png College – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com 32 32 Hunt the Villain (Villain #2) Read Online Rina Kent http://www.ilovenovels.com/hunt-the-villain-villain-2-read-online-rina-kent Thu, 23 Apr 2026 22:53:13 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/hunt-the-villain-villain-2-read-online-rina-kent Genre: College, Dark, M-M Romance, Mafia Authors: Rina Kent Series: Villain Series by Rina Kent
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 148
Estimated words: 147734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >148

From the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Rina Kent comes a standalone dark MM mafia rivals romance set in the world of Legacy of Gods.

I’m hunting a monster

The first time I met Yulian Dimitriev, it was hate at first sight.
He’s brash, chaotic, and a violence-junkie.
In short, everything I disregard.
As heirs to two notorious mafia organizations, we were shoved together in an unorthodox setting.
The more I learn about Yulian, the deeper my loathing seeps.
Until I truly see the person within, and something forbidden sparks between us.
But our coexistence is cut short when tragedy strikes.
Yulian and I go back to our respective, parallel worlds that shouldn’t cross.
But they do.
And once again, I’m dragged into the orbit of a man I shouldn’t want.
Two men can’t be together in our world.
But Yulian blurs every limit I thought existed until everything is in jeopardy.
Our hearts included.

Hunt the Villain is a male x male dark college romance. This book can be read as a standalone, but for a better understanding of the world, it's recommended to read Kiss the Villain first

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

PLAYLIST

Chokehold – Sleep Token

Saints – Echoes

We never dated – sombr

12 to 12 – sombr

Sucker – Arcane, Marcus King

The Emptiness Machine – Linkin Park

Pacify Her – Melanie Martinez

I Wish I Knew How to Quit You – sombr

Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High? – Arctic Monkeys

Good Luck, Babe – Chappell Roan

Sugar – Sleep Token

Aqua Regia – Sleep Token

Substitution – Purple Disco Machine, Kungs, Julian Perretta

Feel Me Now – If Not For Me

The First Time – Damiano David

Kiss Me – Rob Vischer

Fallin’ – Why Don’t We

Ocean Drive – Duke Dumont

Wait So Long – Swedish House Mafia

Gethsemane – Sleep Token

You can find the complete playlist on Spotify.

1

VAUGHN

AGE FIFTEEN

It’s hate at first sight.

For this setting.

For these people.

For the entire charade, really.

I truly believe this is a waste of time, and I would like to leave immediately if possible. Please and thank you.

Unfortunately, that’s not something Dad would appreciate, especially considering his parting words this morning.

You’re my pride, Vaughn. You go out there and show them what the New York Bratva are made of.

So here I am. In this absolute clusterfuck of a place, exchanging pleasantries and empty words with one of the mentors overlooking this mess.

Sorry, it’s called a summer camp.

The Adirondack Mountains aren’t exactly my ideal location to spend the summer. Usually, I’d be off to Russia to stay with my maternal uncles and cousins for some intense training or somewhere in the Mediterranean soaking up some sun. Not this year, obviously, as I have to spend time in the mountains in what’s being described as a “historical” moment for the New York and Chicago Bratvas.

Also known as the strongest branches of the Russian mafia in the States.

As the Pakhan’s son, it’s my duty to represent my family at this camp. The mountain is supposed to be a middle-ground location, picked by both sides.

Apparently, our “mentors” for these hellish summer months are older people who are trusted by my dad and the Chicago Bratva leader since they served both sides. They’re “pure” Russian, as the house manager who’s now leading me to my room insisted.

Aside from the security surrounding the cottage-turned-dorm with its wooden walls and outdated common area, we’re not allowed personal guards or phones, and there’s no electricity after dark.

It’s a form of training—both physical and mental. A way to force us into relying on one another, to scrape at decades of rivalry that probably took root back in Mother Russia before my father even existed.

An old Russian ballad drifts through the halls from an ancient radio system, the melody warped by age. The house manager’s voice threads over it, polished and deliberate, speaking about the facilities and the “opportunities” this place offers.

While his refined Russian seeps into the air, my attention catches on the corners, the hairline cracks in the untreated wood…and then I see them. Small blinking cameras, half hidden.

Of course.

Doesn’t matter that Dad sent me here—neither he nor the leader of the Chicago Bratva trusts the other side. And with their heirs shoved into cohabitation, they’d both want full access to whatever happens here.

I let my gaze slide over the thick slabs of timber making up the walls, the clean but worn carpets dulled by years of footsteps, the rural paintings in faded gold frames, showing a romanticized version of eighteenth-century Russian countryside.

The windows capture my interest next. Unlike the scaled-down comforts of the cottage, they’re fitted with bulletproof glass. Too narrow for anyone to climb through—not that anyone could reach this place without an army.

The camp squats on an off-limits peak, far from any trace of human life, surrounded only by towering pines and an unbroken sky.

I can already tell this summer will be long.

And painfully boring.

Outside the large balcony doors, the grounds sprawl down below, with soldiers patrolling from both sides. I can tell they’re as wary as the rest of us, considering how each group keeps to half of the terrain.

There will be a lot of testosterone wars this not-so-beautiful summer.

I can’t wait for the hassle to be over.

In the meantime, I need to study the other side. If there’s anything I’ve learned from my parents, it’s to always be prepared.

Whether this truce proves to be lucrative or not doesn’t matter. The Chicago Bratva will always be a thorn in our side for as long as I live, just like they’ve been in Dad’s and the Pakhans’ who ruled before him.

As much as I loathe this whole charade, I can’t deny that it’s realistically my only chance to get close to them and study their tactics.

While the house manager explains the facilities, I keep my attention on their men through the doors. All dressed in full-black combat gear, not suits like our side. While everyone is carrying precision rifles, theirs seem more sophisticated.

I need to figure out their weapon supplier.

The bald-headed one with a scorpion tattooed on the side of his head seems to be the leader, considering how the others stand behind him.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >148

Advertisement
The Fifteen-Minute Rule (Dickson University #3) Read Online Max Monroe http://www.ilovenovels.com/the-fifteen-minute-rule-dickson-university-3-read-online-max-monroe Thu, 26 Feb 2026 08:20:48 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/the-fifteen-minute-rule-dickson-university-3-read-online-max-monroe Genre: Alpha Male, College, Contemporary, Funny, New Adult Authors: Max Monroe Series: Dickson University Series by Max Monroe
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 133655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 668(@200wpm)___ 535(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >139

Dickson University’s reigning social king can get any girl on campus to fall for him…except the one he’s been silently falling for his whole life.

Campus legend. Life of the party. The guy everyone wants to know.
That’s me—Ace Kelly.

But the one person who truly knows me? Julia Brooks.
My best friend since we were kids.
Julia’s the kind of girl everyone loves. Sweet, painfully beautiful, and steady, she’s always been my constant.

Somewhere between childhood and college at Dickson University, I fell for her. Hard. And I’ve been running an incognito mission ever since.

Operation: Make Julia fall in love with me...without ruining the friendship.

Flawless plan, right? Wrong.
One catastrophically stupid moment—fine, several—might’ve blown everything apart.

We’ve always had our fifteen-minute rule: get mad, shout, hate each other all we want, but when the time is up, we're back to best buddies.

But this time, fifteen minutes might not be enough.

Not when Julia’s trust and our entire lifetime of “us” is suddenly on the line.

I’m in love with my best friend.
And come hell or high water, I’m not giving up my girl without a fight

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Julia

Sometimes, Ace Kelly is the most annoying best friend in the whole wide world.

I don’t care if he gave me the last purple popsicle yesterday or told everyone at school that I’m the bravest girl in the second grade because I touched a worm on the playground. None of that matters right now because I am so mad at him. He just made his stupid Hulk action figure rip the hair out of my favorite Barbie’s head.

“She didn’t even do anything!” I yell, holding my partially hairless Barbie up in the air. “She was trying to do some yoga, Ace!”

“I’m sorry, Lia!” Ace exclaims. “But the Hulk gets mad sometimes! He can’t help it!”

“Well, the Hulk has anger issues,” I snap, scooting to the edge of the rug in his bedroom and turning my back to him. “And so do you. I’m mad at you, Ace Kelly. Really, really mad.”

Instantly, he goes quiet because he knows the only thing he can do when I’m upset with him is to wait it out.

We have a rule called the fifteen-minute rule. It’s not, like, a law or anything. We made it up. But between us, it’s nonnegotiable.

Ace wanted to choose sixty-nine minutes because he says his dad tells his mom he likes that number all the time, but I told Ace that sixty-nine minutes is a really long time. Like, I’m pretty sure that’s more than a whole hour, which is, like, forever long.

I guess we could’ve chosen the five-minute rule or ten-minute rule, but we both think fifteen is a cool number, so it won two to nothing when we took a vote. Now, we’re not allowed to stay mad at each other for longer than fifteen minutes, and it all started over my sidewalk chalk drawing last summer.

Ace added a gross stream of boogers and snot to the pretty girl I drew on my parents’ driveway, ruining all my hard work. One minute, she had beautiful long purple hair and big pink eyes and a yellow dress, and the next, she had a face covered in green slime because boys are gross.

The only problem with our rule is that Ace isn’t very good at telling time yet, so I’m the one who always has to say when the fifteen minutes are up.

“Is it time yet?” Ace asks, scooting a little closer to me.

See?

I huff out a breath, but I don’t answer him, concentrating on brushing my Barbie’s blond hair in a way that will hide her new bald spot instead.

“Lia?” he tries again, quieter this time. “Has it been fifteen minutes?”

I sigh and glance down at my pink Hello Kitty watch. Only three minutes have passed, but when I look up, Ace is sitting there with big brown sorry eyes. He’s not even playing with his action figures anymore, and his resemblance to Puss in Boots is growing by the second.

I cross my arms tighter and look away, determined to hold out until the time runs out or my Barbie grows her hair back—whichever is shorter—but when I glance back at Ace again, he looks even more pitiful. I crumble.

“Yeah,” I lie. “It’s been fifteen minutes.”

“Really?” he perks up.

I nod. “I forgive you.”

“Thank goodness, Lia. Fifteen minutes is so freaking long.” His face breaks into a giant smile as he scoots right next to me again. “Wanna play action figures?”

“No,” I say and quickly move my Barbie away from his angry Hulk and rise to my feet. “Thanks. You can play action figures. I’m going to play dress-up.”

“You can borrow my Batman costume,” he offers. “It’s in my closet.”

That might not seem like a big deal, but that Batman costume is Ace’s favorite. He never lets his little brother Gunnar wear it. And one time, Ace had Kyle Collins over at his house to play with us and Kyle wanted to wear his Batman costume so bad, but Ace said no.

It’s basically an honor. It’s also one of the reasons why Ace Kelly is my best friend. He’s always doing nice things for me that he would never do for anyone else.

I rummage through his closet, but instead of a superhero costume, I snag one of Ace’s favorite T-shirts.

With the white fabric draped over the back of my head, I swing side to side in front of the mirror on his door and imagine myself in a big, fancy church with a handsome groom standing across from me. I’m more grown, of course, like a full-fledged woman with boobs like my mom’s and lipstick and eye shadow and all the makeup my dad tells me I’m not allowed to wear.

I also have a big smile on my face because it’s the happiest day of my life.

I don’t know why wedding days are so happy for girls, but I’ve seen enough movies to know it’s supposed to be the happiest.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >139

Advertisement
Love to Hate You Read Online Jennifer Sucevic http://www.ilovenovels.com/love-to-hate-you-read-online-jennifer-sucevic Thu, 25 Dec 2025 22:03:28 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/love-to-hate-you-read-online-jennifer-sucevic Genre: Alpha Male, College, Contemporary, New Adult, Sports Authors: Jennifer Sucevic Series: Series by Jennifer Sucevic
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >103

Fake dating the campus player never felt so good.Brody McKinnon is Whitmore University's star defenseman destined for NHL greatness. He made a name for himself playing juniors before gracing us with his esteemed presence. As much as it pains me to admit it, he’s exploded at the college level.While other girls fall all over themselves trying to gain his attention, I do my best to steer clear just as I would a particularly nasty case of crabs.For reasons I can't fathom, Brody takes great pleasure in messing with me. And I, in return, enjoy slicing him to ribbons with my razor-sharp tongue. You'd think after three years, he'd learn to keep his distance. No such luck.Unfortunately for me, I’m about to experience the worst week of my life. It starts with my ex announcing at a party that I’m a lousy lay. He’s the hockey-playing jerk I dated last year who left a bad taste in my mouth (*eyeroll* seriously…get your mind out of the gutter).Want to guess who rides in on his trusty white steed to rescue me? Or should I say, opens his big mouth? Yup, you guessed it. Brody freaking McKinnon, the guy I love to hate. He only makes matters worse by telling everyone that we’re together and then punching Reed in the face.The first…I plan on strangling him for.The second…I’m only sorry I didn’t get to Reed first.Now I’m stuck fake-dating Brody, the one guy who makes me feel like a rabid dog on a choke chain, for the foreseeable future. I guarantee we won’t last more than seventy-two hours without me killing him

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

DAISY

Logan brushes a stray lock of hair away from my face.

“I had fun tonight,” he says.

His husky voice sends a shiver of desire careening down my spine. I love that feeling. The one you get when you’re out with someone new, and you’re really clicking. And you think, Yeah, this could actually go somewhere.

That’s exactly what I’m feeling right now. That little voice inside my head is screaming, Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner.

“Me, too,” I murmur before shoving the key into the lock of the apartment door.

This is going to sound corny as hell, but time stands still as we gaze into each other’s eyes. Have I mentioned that Logan has the dreamiest eyes? They’re deep and soulful. I can practically feel myself getting lost in them.

His eyes were the first thing I noticed.

The second?

That he’s cute.

Cute boys have always been a weakness of mine. He’s handsome in a frat boy kind of way, with perfectly styled blond hair and an athletic build that’s not overly muscular. I’m a sucker for that look. It should not, however, be confused with the douchey frat boy look.

There’s a fine line between the two.

It takes a bit of effort for me to tamp down my rising excitement. The last thing I want to do is jump the gun. This is only the third time we’ve hung out together, but so far, it looks extremely promising. Even better than that, it feels like we’re both on the same page.

I like him, and he seems to return the interest.

My fingers are crossed that my roommates have vacated the premises for the evening. If I were a betting woman, I’d say the odds were in my favor. After all, it’s almost ten o’clock on a Friday night. Everyone with a social life at BU knows that’s prime party time.

That’s the only reason I chanced it and invited Logan up. I want to spend time alone with him, so we can get to know each other better. Since he lives at the Pi Kappa house, the idea of going over to his place was immediately nixed. I may be a lot of things, but stupid isn’t one of them.

For the time being, it’s my place or making out in his Ford Escape. And since I only live a few blocks from campus, police patrol the area on a regular basis. The last thing I need is a ticket for public indecency.

Ummm, no thank you.

I open the door and almost pump my fist at the silence that greets us. But I refrain, wanting to play it cool. Instead, I turn to Logan with an overly bright smile and he grins in response.

See? We are on the same page.

I flick on the hallway light and point toward the living area. “Make yourself comfortable. Do you want something to drink?” I head to the kitchen which is separated from the living area by a breakfast bar with three stools tucked under the faux granite counter.

“Sure, whatever you have is fine.” Rather adorably, he shoves his hands into the pockets of his khakis and surveys the apartment.

I can’t help but stop and take him in. He really is cute. I’m tempted to do a little happy dance in the kitchen but I’m afraid he’ll catch me. I’ll have to content myself to a mental jig until later.

“This is a really nice place,” he says.

“Thanks. We just moved in a few weeks ago.”

Our apartment has three bedrooms and two bathrooms. I was lucky enough to snag the master bedroom, so I have a private bathroom all to myself. The living room has a small dining room connected to it. While the kitchen isn’t spacious, it’s open to the main living area, which makes it feel bigger. It’s perfect for the three of us.

I grab two bottles of water from the refrigerator and head back to where Logan has settled on the couch. He’s tall. Probably around six feet. His legs are stretched out in front of him. I hand over a plastic bottle and sit next to him. Close, but not too close.

He twists off the cap and takes a long swallow before leaning forward and setting it on the coffee table. Then he relaxes on the couch and throws an arm across the top of the cushions. His fingers brush against my shoulder, and his mouth lifts into a sexy smile.

Mine does the same as my gaze drops to his lips. We’ve kissed a few times and Logan is a good kisser.

I’m pretty sure that I’m giving him the green light to lean in and plant one on me again.

At least I hope I am.

Logan raises his other hand to my cheek as the arm around my shoulder pulls me toward him.

“You’re so pretty,” he murmurs, gradually moving in for the kill.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >103

Advertisement
Private Lessons – College Roommates Read Online Stephanie Brother http://www.ilovenovels.com/private-lessons-college-roommates-read-online-stephanie-brother Thu, 25 Dec 2025 22:03:15 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/private-lessons-college-roommates-read-online-stephanie-brother Genre: Alpha Male, College, Erotic, Insta-Love Authors: Stephanie Brother Series: Series by Stephanie Brother
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 93942 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >98

My senior year goal? Lose my v-card and finally learn what I’ve been missing—from men who know exactly how to teach me…

I never imagined my winter internship at an exclusive ski lodge would be more than a résumé builder. But the moment I walk into the shared staff quarters and meet my new roommates, I know I’m not leaving this place untouched.
Asher, Kai, and Landon are three different flavors of trouble, and they’re more than willing to give me very private lessons.
Asher’s a sharp-tongued, obsessive perfectionist in the kitchen. The hot-as-sin, arrogant chef hates being told what to do, but the heat in his eyes when he looks at me says he wants to bend more than just the rules.
Kai’s a reckless flirt with a body built for sin and a mouth made for filth. He’s a ski god on the slopes and a cocky, shirtless menace in the lodge. He swears his touch will make me forget my problems—and probably even my own name.
And then there’s Landon, Kai’s twin, who’s quiet, kind, and devastatingly gentle. There’s something broken in his soulful blue eyes, but I can feel the intensity simmering underneath. I want him almost as much as I long to be the one who brings him back to life.
I keep telling myself it’s only about the experience—a few wild nights to shake off my v-card and enter the adult world on my own terms. No hearts involved. No messy complications.
But these men? They’re not playing along.

They don’t just want to teach me. They want to own every moan, every shiver, every first. As our private lessons intensify, they’re not only focused on my body. They’re after something deeper, something I wasn’t prepared to give.

When the snow melts and my internship ends, I have to decide—was this just the hottest winter of my life, or the start of something more?

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

ZOE

Two weeks ago…

When I entered the coffee shop, there was no one at the counter. Seeing no customers lined up was depressingly normal, but having no barista behind the counter, well, that was new. My employee, Mia, was sitting at a cafe table, knee-to-knee with a good-looking young man—your classic tall, dark, and handsome type.

While I could see how a man like that was far more interesting than manning the register, she did have a job to do, and I frowned. Their heads were angled together, completely oblivious of me.

Managing this place was part of my senior-year curriculum. As a hospitality major, I needed experience in every corner of the industry, not just at the kind of five-star hotel I wanted to work at after graduation. Mia was my only employee, and I tried to treat her with a firm but fair hand.

They’d never covered this in my food and beverage administration class. There hadn’t been a single lesson on what to do when a customer was eye-fucking your employee. My instinct was to march over and tell Mia to get back to work, but she’d seemed distracted lately. If she quit, I wasn’t sure I could find anyone willing to take a job in this forgotten corner of campus. While I hesitated, their conversation drifted over to me.

The guy was bragging about how rich his family was, and how he was looking to buy a bigger yacht because his only slept twenty. At many universities, that would be a joke, but not here. Most of the students at an elite private school like Langley were so damn wealthy that I was surprised he didn’t also have his own personal submarine.

“I’d love to see it sometime, Blaise.” Mia gave a little giggle that made my skin crawl. Did men really like it when grown women made such a foolish, girlish sound? And seriously, his name was Blaise? Then again, a lot of the students from powerful families had weird old family names. I suppose it was a small price to pay for an enormous trust fund.

Still, Blaise sounded painfully pretentious, and I couldn’t imagine why Mia was so captivated. Rich, entitled assholes were as common as flies around here—even the really good-looking ones like him.

He leaned even closer, dark eyes intent on Mia, his voice dropping low but still perfectly audible. “When I get the new yacht, I’ll take you out on a moonlit cruise. Just you and me. And the captain and crew, of course.”

“Of course,” Mia echoed, her eyes wide. “I’d like that.”

“Maybe I’ll give the chef the night off, and I’ll make a meal for you. Would you like that?” he continued, and Mia nodded. “If you want, I’ll even take my shirt off, like that chef who does those cooking videos you like so much.”

Wait, what? How did he know that? It had sounded to me like they’d just met. But even as the color rose on Mia’s cheeks, Blaise continued on. “After dinner, we’ll go up on the deck. Just you and me, babe… and I’ll push you against the railing and lift your dress, and…” My jaw dropped as he detailed the filthy things he wanted to do to her. At the same time, his hand was under her skirt, moving purposefully up her thigh.

That spurred me into action. “Get the fuck away from my employee!”

They jolted apart, Blaise casually pulling his hand back as if he hadn’t just been feeling the barista up.

Mia’s mouth was open in shock, whether at my sudden appearance or at that creep’s actions.

I marched over and glared at Blaise. “She’s working, you asshole, and she doesn’t need you harassing her. Get the hell out of here and never come back.”

Something tugged at my sleeve, and I looked down at Mia’s flushed face. “Zoe, I⁠—”

“Go back behind the counter,” I said. “I’ll take care of this jerk.”

“No, it’s not. He wasn’t—” Her stuttering trailed off, but I didn’t blame her for being flustered. Women deserved to feel safe in their workplace. I hadn’t thought about how much time Mia worked alone down here, but I sure as hell would now. Despite our low sales numbers, maybe I could ask the department to let me hire someone else so she wouldn’t have to deal with crap like this alone.

Mia pushed her chair back and tilted her head up at me. “It’s not like that,” she said. “We were… it was just pretend.”

What?

“It was just a bit of role-playing,” Blaise added, his deep voice courteous and polite, which was very different than how it had sounded when he was moving in on my employee.

“This is my roommate, Diego,” Mia finally managed to say. And now I recognized the redness on her face for what it was. Embarrassment, not fear.

Then it finally sank in. She wasn’t being harassed—far from it. “You were flirting with your roommate on company time?”

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >98

Advertisement
The Roommate Game (Smithton Bears #3) Read Online Lane Hayes http://www.ilovenovels.com/the-roommate-game-smithton-bears-3-read-online-lane-hayes Sun, 07 Dec 2025 21:11:06 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/the-roommate-game-smithton-bears-3-read-online-lane-hayes Genre: College, Contemporary, M-M Romance, Sports Authors: Lane Hayes Series: Smithton Bears Series by Lane Hayes
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 64727 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >67

The hockey player, the figure skater, and the roommate situation…

Gus

No one knows how to make a party last quite like me. Technically, I should have graduated three years ago, but I love Smithton, I love hockey, and the team needs a good captain with a positive outlook. That’s me. I love this town and it loves me.

Well, everyone except my roommate.

Rafe doesn’t like me at all—total mystery. I’m a nice guy. Ask anyone. He’s the one with stick-in-the-mud-itis. However, that might be exactly what I need to curb my compulsion for nonstop fun ’cause like it or not, the excess partying is taking a toll. I need to slow down, switch gears, and maybe use my free time to make things right with my roomie.

In a twist, Rafe’s not so bad. He has a great smile, pretty eyes, cute dimples, and—

Oh, man. I think I have a situation.

Rafe

This cannot be happening. I’m a competitive figure skater with goals and big plans. How did I get saddled with a party-boy hockey-hero for a roommate?

Oh, yeah, I mistakenly assumed the captain of the hockey team would be a serious person. Wrong. Gus and I have nothing in common and I have no idea how I’m going to survive a year of this.

But in a twist, we’re good together in a crisis. So good, that I’m beginning to wonder if we could be something more than a couple of athletes playing the roommate game.

The Roommate Game is an MM light-angst, college hockey romance featuring a fun-loving captain, a serious figure skater, and a chance at forever

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER 1

RAFE

“Winners never quit and quitters never win.”—Vince Lombardi

Rain battered the coffee shop window, rattling the casing and streaking the glass. The forecast called for thunder too, but if there was any, it couldn’t have been heard above the hiss of steamed milk, grinding beans, and general chatter in Coffee Cave. The group in the corner was in the midst of a boisterous debate regarding the hottest video-game heroes, and there was definitely an “it’s not you, it’s me” breakup happening at the next table over.

My woes ranked somewhere in between. More serious than cartoon cuties, but certainly nothing to cry about. Well…okay, I had felt a little weepy when I’d realized my chicken parmesan had gone MIA from the fridge.

“He ate my leftovers. Again,” I groused. “Even the green beans, and Gus doesn’t even like green beans.”

Celine scowled. “Monster.”

“He’s a human vacuum.”

“He can’t get away with that.”

“Oh, really? ’Cause he’s been getting away with it for five freaking months.”

My friend reached across the table to give my hand a supportive squeeze. “Poor Rafey. Did you yell at him?”

“We had words,” I hedged.

“What did he say?”

“Same as always.” I rolled my eyes before lowering my voice to mimic my giant hockey roommate’s stoner dude affectation. “ ‘Oh, man, I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was yours. I got you, though. Double the chicken parm tomorrow, and I’ll do you an extra solid…no green beans. They kinda sucked.’ ”

Celine’s lips twisted with humor. I could tell she was trying hard not to laugh at my plight. “You’re getting too good at imitating him.”

I shook my head mournfully. “I must have done something truly terrible in a past life, like poisoning a well that fed a village or stealing my neighbor’s cows on the regular. Karma might be seeking judgment in arears by saddling me with a roommate who drinks my milk straight from the carton and helps himself to my eggs. And stealing food is the least of Gus’s sins. If I come home to yet another party, I may have to call you for bail money.”

Celine didn’t bother hiding her amusement this time. Her long, golden locks cascaded over her shoulders as she threw her head back and guffawed, capturing a few admiring glances.

Listen, I wasn’t attracted to women in the slightest, but one would’ve had to be blind not to notice that Celine was drop-dead gorgeous. She was a petite blond with big blue eyes and a generous smile, who also just happened to be able to out-axel the competition in women’s figure skating at Smithton…hands down.

We’d been best friends since the day we’d recognized each other as schoolmates at the winter skate camp her parents ran in Pittsburgh. We’d been ten years old, and other than the fifth-grade classroom at Hollister Elementary and an abiding love for figure skating, we hadn’t had much in common. I was and always had been a bit of a dork, and Celine was the epitome of social grace.

Somehow, we’d clicked and become devoted amigos, battling all the ugliest aspects of adolescence like every other pimply-faced junior high and high school teen, then kicking butt in regional competitions on weekends. While our classmates had dabbled in sex, drugs, and partying, we’d perfected spins, worked on choreography, and learned how to navigate the complex mid echelons of the world we’d hoped to make a lasting mark in one day.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >67

Advertisement
Burn Bright (Cobalt Empire #1) Read Online Krista Ritchie, Becca Ritchie http://www.ilovenovels.com/burn-bright-cobalt-empire-1-read-online-krista-ritchie-becca-ritchie Thu, 25 Sep 2025 16:04:48 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/burn-bright-cobalt-empire-1-read-online-krista-ritchie-becca-ritchie Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, College, New Adult, Sports Authors: Becca Ritchie, Krista Ritchie Series: Becca Ritchie
Series: Cobalt Empire Series by Krista Ritchie
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 234
Estimated words: 226965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1135(@200wpm)___ 908(@250wpm)___ 757(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >234

Love burns hottest when it's blue.

Ben Cobalt is number six. Not sixth place—in fact, he’d be considered at least third draft pick for the NHL if he didn’t quit hockey during college. And he’s not sixth-in-line for any throne. Though, most consider his larger-than-life, billionaire family American royalty.

He is the sixth-born Cobalt.

Out of a normal family of seven, he might get lost in the shuffle. But being the black sheep of the Cobalt Empire comes with its own intense spotlight. After he hits a major low at college in Philly, his four older brothers convince him to move in with them in New York City. Transferring to Manhattan Valley University—piece of cake.

Living in an apartment with all of his brothers while harboring a giant secret among a family who’s more tight-knit than a secret society—total effing chaos.

He has to find a way out of the tense living arrangement, especially as he clashes with his oldest brother Charlie. Ben turns to an unlikely source for help. A grumpy, punk-rock girl with a troubled past who's already pissed off one Cobalt brother.

So when an undeniable attraction ignites, Harriet Fisher is expecting the flames to die out. Except…what happens when they don’t? Falling for a Cobalt brother with secrets might be a Shakespearean tragedy she can't rewind.

BURN BRIGHT is the first book in the Cobalt Empire series, a new adult romance series about legacy, loyalty, and love

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

HARRIET FISHER

Itake my beer and my scowl to the wall. Me and the wall—great friends. My only current friend.

This party feels like an amalgamation of hipsters, jocks, beauty queens, and outcasts. A total Breakfast Club scenario. But instead of five people sharing detention there are a hundred-plus sharing a frat house.

My white crop top and red-and-black checkered, very low-rise pants—which I love in all their early 2000s punk glory—shouldn’t cause me to stand out that much. I’m positive I saw a guy wearing a spiked collar five minutes ago.

I take a stiff sip of beer.

Alone.

Avoiding direct eye contact with others.

Maybe I thought things would be different at Manhattan Valley University.

New city, new college, new outcomes. But I might be part of the problem when it comes to making friends. I don’t know how to be warm and inviting. I can blame it on my scowl and permanent Resting Bitch Face, but the truth is I could try harder to be softer. More approachable. Yet, the thought of being someone that people actively want to approach makes me scowl even harder. Is it weird? To want friends but also not want them?

Sure, the idea of friends sounds amazing. People to hang out with, laugh with, go to the movies and venture to the mall with. But friends also come with drama—like what if they judge me? Hate me? What if I do something wrong to mess it all up? Or worse, what if they’re amazing friends, and they start wanting more from me? So I’d have to start sharing about my life and get into my past, and all that sounds so incredibly taxing that I’d like to just fling myself into a dilapidated cabin in the South Pole where no one can find me.

Friends…sometimes the fantasy seems better than the reality.

And it’s not just girls that I struggle to connect with in that way. I’ve never had a friendship with a guy. I’ve never wanted to be adopted as one of the bros. I can’t wrap my head around what a guy’s girl even looks like. It sounds like phony fucking baloney.

I’m not even really attempting to make a friend tonight. Literally, my goals are on the floor. I just want to have a better-than-average time at this party.

When I go to the backyard for some fresh air, a thought slams at me.

I shouldn’t have come here.

Maybe I should’ve stayed inside and melted into the plaster. Kappa guys play beer pong on the grass while couples giggle-fight during a game of chicken in the pool, and I’m just trying to reach a corner of the fence.

“She’s so tiny,” a six-foot-something asshole with a humongous smile says. He wears an MVU Row Team shirt, and he elbows his preppy friend in the side. “Like a little Polly Pocket.” They snort together.

I try to walk around the jock for the second time.

He side-steps again. “Whoa, Polly, how tall are you?” He tries to pat my head, and I jerk backward.

“Leave me alone.” I raise my voice which contains rasp and grit.

But their glassy eyes say they’re four beers in and I’m as threatening as a Chihuahua. “Come on, you’re supposed to be fun-sized.” He downs a big gulp. “Be fun.”

His friend laughs, then leans into the jock to mutter, “Those are definitely party-sized, though.” Their heavy-lidded eyes drop to my chest.

Yeah, I have larger than average boobs. I’ve been told this super uninteresting fact since the tenth grade. Guys like to act as if it’s surprising to me. Like I don’t realize my tits are, I don’t know, attached to my fucking body.

I can see them.

I know they’re big.

And I wish I didn’t finish off my beer in the house. I’d throw it at his face. Cup and all. Instead, I flip them off with two middle fingers. “How’s this for fun?”

They snicker, like I’m playing around. Like this is just a game and I should lighten up. It’s a party, right? We’re at a frat house on campus. People aren’t taking anything seriously here.

I’m the buzzkill.

But maybe I don’t want to be the five-foot-one party favor.

“Seriously,” I growl. “Just let me through.” I try to slip past the jock.

He blocks me.

I glare. “Dude.”

“Polly.”

What the fuck?!

“Oooh, you made her mad, Cameron,” he says off my scowl.

“Does she bite?” Cameron laughs, then tries to pat my blonde hair again.

I swat his hand away. “Don’t touch me.”

“Aww, she’s a snapping turtle.” Cameron passes his beer to his preppy friend. “You know what turtles need?”

My pulse races. I try to back away, to return inside, but I barely even rotate before Cameron hoists me around the waist. I kick out as he tosses me over his shoulder and shouts, “Water!”

“Let me down!” I yell, banging a fist against his back. I squirm and try to pull away as he carries me to the pool. No, no, no. Panic envelops me alongside raw anger, and I fight against his rower strength.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >234

Advertisement
Something to Prove (Smithton Bears #2) Read Online Lane Hayes http://www.ilovenovels.com/something-to-prove-smithton-bears-2-read-online-lane-hayes Sat, 16 Aug 2025 22:25:21 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/something-to-prove-smithton-bears-2-read-online-lane-hayes Genre: College, Contemporary, M-M Romance Authors: Lane Hayes Series: Smithton Bears Series by Lane Hayes
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 65884 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 329(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >68

The hockey star, the influencer, and the deal of a lifetime.

Ty

I’m going to the pros, baby! Deal made, contract signed. Now all I have to do is finish out my final season at Smithton and stay out of trouble. I like to have a good time, but don’t worry, I’ll behave.

What I won’t do is talk to that double-crossing influencer who’s been badgering me for an interview. No thanks.

I know Walker’s type—sweet as pie on the outside, a shark on the inside.

Get this…he wants to make a deal that sounds a lot like a bribe.

Not interested. No way.

But I am curious.

Walker

I’ve never worked so hard for an interview in my life. Ugh!

Look, I get that Ty doesn’t like me. As in…he won’t return my calls and avoids me like the plague on campus.

Too bad. I’m not giving up.

I don’t want to beg, but I’m willing to barter. Every man has his price—and something to prove.

Even Ty.

Something to Prove is a low-angst, geek-jock MM bisexual college hockey romance featuring a hockey star and the adorkable influencer who’s determined to win him over

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER 1

TY

“You alone are enough. You have nothing to prove to anybody.”—Maya Angelou

Sunshine, blue skies, and good news went together like peanut butter and jelly.

“Congrats, man!”

“Way to go, Ty!”

“Go, Bears! Go, Jackals!”

I smiled, waved, fist-bumped, and high-fived my way across campus, adjusting my Ray-Bans against the late-summer glare from Lake Ontario in the distance through the canopy of trees.

The first week of my senior year at Smithton was off to a sweet start. I couldn’t go anywhere without being followed by an entourage of hockey fans who seemed as thrilled as my folks had been on draft day. Smithton took hockey very seriously, and the idea that someone from our little private college was going to the pros next year was a big fucking deal.

Like…a supersized big deal.

Langley thumped my shoulder, shaking his head with a laugh. “So this is what it feels like to hang out with a celebrity. I like it.”

“Fuck off.” I snorted. “They’ll forget about me after our first loss, so hey…I’m enjoying the love while it lasts.”

“Smart, but we’re not losing to Trinity. No fucking way.” Langley frowned so hard, his thick brows resembled a fuzzy caterpillar in midcrawl.

Gus Langley was the Bears captain and had been for the past three seasons. He was an inch shorter than my six four and built like me, thick and muscular. I had more tattoos, and though it was trim at the moment, I could grow a beard that put most guys my age to shame. Langley, on the other hand, had a scruffy chiseled jaw, a wild mane of chestnut hair, and his eyes almost always had that stoned “I’m having way more fun at life than you are” look.

Probably true.

He was a perpetual senior, a serious party animal, and a very questionable leader. Don’t get me wrong—everyone loved the guy, but Langley usually prioritized a good time over all else—even winning. Getting pre-riled up for an upcoming game wasn’t like him.

I paused in the middle of the quad and lowered my sunglasses. “What’s wrong with Trinity?”

“Their new coach is a prick and—” Gus paused, his attention fixed on something or someone behind me. “Incoming. Your favorite redhead.”

“Huh?”

“The little shit with What’s New, Smithton? Are you still boycotting him, or is that last year’s news?”

I pivoted toward the eager-looking man marching our way and barely suppressed a growl.

Listen, I considered myself to be a friendly dude. I tried to always be fair and congenial. After all, everyone was fighting their own personal battles and had reasons for their actions they might not be able to share. Live and let live…or something like that.

But that rule didn’t apply to the snazzily-dressed dickhead blinding me with a psycho megawatt grin.

“Hello, gentlemen! It’s good to be back at the old grindstone, isn’t it? And on such a gorgeous day. It feels like summer—which, of course, it is! I’ve never understood the rationale of starting school in August. The first week of September is perfect, in my opinion, but…no one consulted me.” The smiley jerkwad chuckled awkwardly, tapping the strap of his leather designer bag as I rearranged my expression into something cold, unapproachable, uninterested, and unfriendly.

So not me…I swear. I went out of my way to be nice to everyone—except Walker Woodrow. He could eat glass or black licorice or cilantro for all I cared. He was a two-faced opportunistic influencer who didn’t think twice about using unsuspecting Smithton students for content to promote his online channel.

Not cool. Walker had shown his true colors, and I didn’t want anything to do with him or his show.

Honestly, it bummed me out that he’d turned out to be a creep. I’d been a fan. Walker was a clever host—engaging, upbeat, witty, smart, and interesting. He took random places, people, and events in our small college town in Upstate New York and somehow made Smithton seem like the ultimate destination. Apparently, tourism had increased by three hundred percent since he’d launched What’s New, Smithton?

Three hundred percent.

His channel had a million subscribers. I shit you not. By all accounts, Walker had done more for our local economy than all of Smithton’s sports programs combined. That was both remarkable and a hard pill to swallow. I mean, c’mon…his tour of the kitchen at Vincento’s, a sixty-year-old greasy institution in a two-hundred-and-fifty-year-old town, couldn’t compare to Smithton’s division conference hockey game, right? Wrong.

People from all around the freaking globe had tuned in for his interview with the owner, Vincento Senior, which included tips on how to knead and throw pizza dough. Yep, hundreds of thousands of folks had watched an octogenarian fire up a woodburning pizza oven while less than a thousand had shown up to cheer on the Bears. And I’d been one of them. Well…after my game, obviously.

Sue me. I’d liked the peppy redhead’s vibe and though I’d deny it with my last breath, I’d thought Walker was cute with his wayward curls, tawny-brown eyes, and tight compact body.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >68

Advertisement
Tag (Game of Crows #1) Read Online Natalie Bennett http://www.ilovenovels.com/tag-game-of-crows-1-read-online-natalie-bennett Tue, 05 Aug 2025 19:56:16 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/tag-game-of-crows-1-read-online-natalie-bennett Genre: Alpha Male, College, Dark, Suspense Authors: Natalie Bennett Series: Game of Crows Series by Natalie Bennett
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 186
Estimated words: 176552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 883(@200wpm)___ 706(@250wpm)___ 589(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >186

The Hunt was supposed to be harmless.
A Crowsfell University tradition.
This year, someone changed the rules.

It felt like a joke until the cryptic texts turned into threats, and masked figures started lurking in the shadows.

Now, my friends and I are trapped in a game we never agreed to play.
Secrets are surfacing, tensions are rising, and the line between trust and betrayal is blurring faster than I can keep up.

Then there’s Ryder Voss.
My best friend. My anchor. The one person who’s always been there.
The golden boy hiding far too much darkness.

He isn’t just protective anymore, he’s relentless.
The more things spiral, the more possessive he gets.

I crave his obsession as much as I fear it.
Because if the boy who’s always saved me decides to ruin me?
I’ll let him.

None of us are ready for what’s coming.
And without him, I don’t stand a chance.

About the book
TAG is the first part of a dark, slasher-inspired romance duet, set within the elite world of Crowsfell University.
A slow-burn with morally grey characters, forbidden tension, and a web of secrets and lies

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

PROLOGUE

10310214

I know what you did.

I had been ignoring these texts for two weeks. Cryptic, taunting messages from unknown numbers. I thought it was a prank, someone messing with me. It didn’t take long for me to realize this wasn't some kind of perverse joke. Whoever was texting my phone seemed to take great joy in my misery and paranoia, like we were playing a game.

10310214

Are you ready?

The latest message glared back at me as I sat on the Crawfords’ couch, scrolling through Netflix in an attempt to drown out my thoughts. They were deviating from their usual taunts, and that worried me. I looked toward the staircase and listened for any signs of movement. I had tucked Esther in two hours ago, so she should have been sleeping peacefully, tucked under her pink quilt with her stuffed bunny, oblivious to the dark, messy world adults lived in. She didn’t deserve to grow up in a house of lies. I didn’t deserve to be sitting there.

The Crawfords were at some fancy convention dinner, their lives perfectly polished to match their immaculate home. Gianna was nothing but warmth and the kind of kindness I swore couldn’t be real. Mickey had the effortless charm of your typical CEO. They were a gorgeous couple. Only I knew the cracks beneath the surface. Or maybe I was the crack, the irreparable blot in their picture-perfect life.

My phone buzzed again, forcing me back to my current reality.

1224310704

You’ve been tagged.

“Tagged?” I shook my head with a bitter laugh and backed out of the thread as another text came in, refusing to read it. I was on the verge of losing my mind. I tossed the phone onto the coffee table and stood up, needing to move, to do something other than sit there. I headed for the kitchen, my thoughts windmilling. How could anyone know my secret unless I told them? Mick certainly wasn't going to announce he'd fucked me all over this house for seven of the eight months I had been babysitting his six-year-old daughter. And there was no way Gianna was aware of anything. She would've taken him to the cleaners, and I would be out of a job that came with room and board.

I grabbed a glass and filled it from the sink. The cold water was heavenly as it slid down my throat, but it didn’t wash away the creeping sense of anxiety. I needed to pull myself together. I tilted my head back and ran my hand through my hair, freezing when I heard a light tapping sound. I swiftly turned, eyes darting to both doorways.

“Esther?”

I took a slow step forward, my bare feet shuffling over the polished floor. The tapping came again, a little shorter this time, followed by a soft thud.

“Es, is that you?”

Getting no response, my grip on the glass tightened. Was someone in the house? No, that was impossible.

The Crawfords' security system was set to alert when any door or window opened and announced when someone was approaching. If anyone were inside with me, they would've had to of been here almost all day. I waited expectantly for the sound to come again, sighing when the silence stretched.

“Get a grip,” I whispered harshly.

All of this is because someone may have miraculously uncovered my deceit. Regret gnawed at me, guilt right on its heels. Neither was strong enough for me to end the arrangement with Mickey. I was under no illusions when it came to our relationship. One day we would have to stop, but if I had my way, it wasn’t going to be anytime soon because although I did feel a bit guilty, the pros outweighed the cons. Sex was off the charts. The extra padding in my bank account was a nice bonus, too.

Mick wasn’t close to ending what we had either. He loved the thrill of it all, his perfect wife and slutty mistress under one roof. There were shared looks when we all ate dinner. Sometimes when they were having a pool day, he’d find an excuse to come inside, and then we’d fuck fast and hard in my bathroom. More often than not, he crept into my room at night while Gianna was sleeping right down the hall. We made a game of how quiet I could be.

I knew the ever-regal Ginna Sterling wasn’t letting him fuck her ass. I gave him all the things she wouldn’t and never pressured the man to leave her for me. I wasn’t a fool. Mick wanted to get his dick wet with his kid’s nanny, not blow up his life. I didn’t mind that at all. It was a win-win situation for both of us right now. I wasn’t going to let some rando behind a screen ruin it for me.

I turned to set the glass down, and the tapping came again. This time it was much closer than before. I whirled around.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >186

Advertisement
Players Keep Score (Campus Players #4) Read Online Jillian Quinn http://www.ilovenovels.com/players-keep-score-campus-players-4-read-online-jillian-quinn Tue, 05 Aug 2025 19:55:25 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/players-keep-score-campus-players-4-read-online-jillian-quinn Genre: Alpha Male, College, Young Adult Authors: Jillian Quinn Series: Campus Players Series by Jillian Quinn
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 58792 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 294(@200wpm)___ 235(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >63

He’ll do anything to win her heart…

Everyone on campus knows Drake Donovan for all the wrong reasons.
Women think I’m a player, a womanizer, but I’m neither of those things.

Years ago, I created a fake persona to hide my secret…
And the girl who hates my guts knows the truth.

I would do anything for a second with Taylor.
But she doesn’t think a player like me is capable of love.

We start as friends, but to get the benefits, there’s one catch…
I have to make her fall in love with me.

And I’m up for the challenge

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter 1

Drake

My dick has a life of its own. The girl I met in the hallway after class hasn’t stopped begging me for another pic, so who am I to deny her? She’s in my cell phone contacts as Becky Big Tits. At least, I think her name is Becky. I’m almost positive it starts with a B.

“Give me a sec,” I tell Tucker Kane, one of my closest friends and teammates. “I have to send this chick another pic.”

He shoots me a nasty look and then shakes his head, laughing. “Fucking weirdo,” he mutters under his breath.

Leaving Tucker outside, I duck into the bathroom long enough to whip out my dick and snap a picture to send to Becky. By now, I imagine most girls on campus have probably already seen my favorite body part. I’m known for it. During freshman year, I sent a picture to one girl, and since then, I’ve gotten tons of random texts from girls.

They ask for it.

As I step into the hallway, Becky sends me a text message full of hearts, eggplant emojis, and a smiley face with a tongue hanging out. She’s not even a challenge.

How boring? Later, Becky.

My dad always told me a girl who doesn’t make you chase her isn’t worth your time. I hate to admit he’s right, but this girl has already lost my attention. Meeting a girl who’s not begging for it would be nice.

Everyone on campus thinks they know the real Drake Donovan—even my friends and teammates. They couldn’t be more wrong about me. And if anyone ever discovered my secret, it would destroy the fake reputation I created. So, I have to maintain these bullshit relationships with easy girls. It’s easier than admitting to my friends that I’ve lied to them for years.

I slip my cell phone back into my pocket and sigh.

“I’m surprised there’s anyone left at Strick U who hasn’t seen your dick,” Tucker says smugly.

I shrug. “New year, new girls.”

He snorts. “Eventually, that’s going to catch up with you. Wait until you go pro and send one to the wrong puck bunny. Look what happened to Preston’s dad when he played for the Caps.”

Well, over twenty-five years ago, Alex Parker got into a ton of trouble for having sex with a puck bunny, who turned out to be the granddaughter of the team owner. Oops. And it didn’t help that the hotel caught the whole thing on camera. That’s how Preston’s dad played for the Philadelphia Flyers alongside my dad. Now, he’s the head coach of the team. He also played with Tucker’s dad, now the general manager.

What happened to my Uncle Alex back then could have killed his career. So, I guess I better be more careful with eager girls who want a piece of me. Even though I shouldn’t do it, I do it anyway.

“It’s not like I’m settling down soon,” I shoot back. “Until then…”

“No point,” Tucker says, holding open the door to the lecture hall for me. “Too many girls to choose from.”

Tucker practically lives over at the Delta Sigma Phi chapter house. He could be a fraternity member with how much he parties with them.

When we step outside, the heat smacks me in the face. It’s warm for October, much hotter than previous years. Our final hockey season with the Strickland Senators just started, though it doesn’t seem like hockey season outside.

We walk toward the Student Activity Center, also known as the SAC, by everyone on campus. Within minutes, we’re climbing the stairs to the second floor. My stomach growls from the overwhelming scent of fried foods, and a slight pain digs into my side. When was the last time I ate? This morning after practice, I guess. I was so busy with hockey, classes, and then Becky that I didn’t even think about it.

Tucker walks in front of me to grab each of us a tray and hands one to me. On our way to the buffet line, I move out of the way of a man pushing a metal cart and bump into someone. The tray slips from my hand. I reach out to catch it, but it hits the tiled floor, falling in front of the girl I knocked over.

She peeks up at me, her long, dark hair framing her soft features. I stare at her for far too long, stunned by the sight of Taylor Bradshaw on the floor. She’s gorgeous, with nothing more than a pink gloss on her pouty lips. She’s the one girl I’ve always noticed on campus. Sometimes, I catch her looking at me, but not for long before she speeds away as if she thinks she’s too good for me.

“Drake,” another girl says from behind me.

I angle my body to glance at the girl I just sent a dick pic to, surprised to see her here. Her lips part for me, a tiny smile turning up the corners of her mouth.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >63

Advertisement
Players Always Win (Campus Players #2) Read Online Jillian Quinn http://www.ilovenovels.com/players-always-win-campus-players-2-read-online-jillian-quinn Tue, 05 Aug 2025 19:55:24 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/players-always-win-campus-players-2-read-online-jillian-quinn Genre: Alpha Male, College, Young Adult Authors: Jillian Quinn Series: Campus Players Series by Jillian Quinn
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 46198 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >49

They say you never forget your first kiss with a hot hockey player…

When my sorority sisters gave me a checklist to complete, I never expected the last item to say Kiss a Hot Jock . I’m new to campus, clueless about sports at Strick U.

And then I see him in the Quad—Trent Kane.

With his muscular arms, confident strut, and killer smirks, I know he’s the right man for the job. The blond Adonis has the body of an athlete and the face of a model.

But one kiss is not enough for Trent.

He shows up at my sorority house, frat parties, even the carnival kissing booth. On the mend from a breakup, I’m not looking for another relationship… but this sexy hockey player never turns down a challenge

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter One

Trent

Dean Whittaker’s skin turns an odd shade of red, and I think he might explode. He leans forward, hands folded on his desk, the life draining from his knuckles.

“We do not tolerate behavior like this at Strickland University,” he growls.

Tucker bites back a smile while I slap on a straight face.

“We won’t do it again,” Tucker lies.

“It won’t happen again,” I say. “You have our word.”

We started switching places when we were kids. We would swap for the day if we needed help passing a class and the other was decent at the subject. Almost no one can tell us apart. We’re both six feet three inches of solid muscle and have the same white-blond hair, except Tucker’s is spiky in the front.

“You’ve said this before.” Dean Whittaker sucks in a deep breath and blows it out, causing a few papers to flutter to the floor. “I’ve given both of you more leeway than other students because of your father.”

The mention of our dad makes my stomach knot. He will kick our asses if he finds out we swapped places again.

“We appreciate all of your help,” I say. “But please don’t involve our dad. We will do anything to make this right.”

I always have to talk our way out of trouble.

“You two are not getting away with this. Not this time.” The dean takes a sip from his coffee mug and glares at each of us, his eyes cold and severe. “Hockey is the only thing you care about… So maybe you need to have it taken away from you to understand your actions have consequences.”

Tucker gasps.

“Please don’t,” I beg. “This is our last year. We need all the playing time we can get if we will make it pro.”

Since birth, my father groomed us to become hockey players. We’ve never wanted to play another sport. Hockey’s it for us, and the game loves us back.

“Missing a few games won’t hurt either of you, not when your father is the general manager of the Flyers.” Dean Whittaker’s tone is serious, his voice level. “I bet he can pull a few strings, just like he does every time you two mess up.”

His words slice deep into my chest. We worked hard for our spots on the Strickland Senators. Coach Bryant didn’t hand us a jersey or place us on the first line because our dad made a phone call.

Our dad is Tyler Kane, the legendary center for the Philadelphia Flyers, two-time Stanley Cup Champion, winner of the Hart Memorial Trophy, and now the general manager for the Flyers. Our dad is always there to swoop in and help us whenever we get into trouble.

Dean Whittaker pushes his chair out from the desk and rises to his full height, staring at us with a wicked grin. “You’re suspended two games each.”

We both groan, pissed off about the turn of events. Of all the times to get caught, it had to be at the start of our final season.

“Don’t even try to talk your way out of this.” The dean shoves his hands into his pockets. “My decision is final. I’ll let Coach Bryant know you’re not allowed anywhere near the rink until you’ve served your punishment.”

“Can we at least practice with the team?”

Tucker remains quiet, a hopeful expression on his face. For the few seconds, the dean takes to think over my question, neither of us move or breathe.

He scratches his dark beard, his fingers tugging at the longer hairs that could use a trim. “I suppose that would be all right. But that’s it. Practice only. No games until I lift your suspension. Understood?”

I straighten my back and smile. “Yes, sir. You won’t regret this.”

“One more condition,” the dean says. “You can practice with your team, but I want you to attend at least one school function, and it cannot be a sporting event or anything directly related.”

“Okay,” I mutter. “What do you have in mind?”

“You will help Kappa Delta build the booth for their annual Kisses for Cancer fundraiser. You will report to the chapter house on Sunday at nine o’clock sharp. No exceptions. No excuses. And don’t be late.”

Irritated, we agree to arrive on time, and Dean Whittaker nods. “Now, get out of my office. I don’t want to see either of you in here again this semester.”

“So, we’ll see you next semester,” Tucker says under his breath, laughing as he exits the office.

Once outside Liberty Hall, I slap Tucker on the back. “How did we get caught? You said you had it under control.”

He shrugs. “How was I supposed to know your crazy stalker is in my class?”

I shake my head, not the least bit amused. “I don’t have a stalker.”

“What are we going to do now? Two games. That’s harsh.”

I shrug. “There’s nothing we can do. Coach won’t let us play.”

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >49