Smithton Bears Series by Lane Hayes – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

Smithton Bears Series by Lane Hayes – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com Sun, 07 Dec 2025 21:11:06 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=7.0 http://www.ilovenovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Smithton Bears Series by Lane Hayes – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com 32 32 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
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Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 64727 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)

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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.

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

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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.

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One-Time Shot (Smithton Bears #1) Read Online Lane Hayes http://www.ilovenovels.com/one-time-shot-smithton-bears-1-read-online-lane-hayes Thu, 12 Jun 2025 17:27:44 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/one-time-shot-smithton-bears-1-read-online-lane-hayes Genre: College, M-M Romance, Sports Authors: Lane Hayes Series: Smithton Bears Series by Lane Hayes
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Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 51902 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 260(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)

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The jock, the geek, and the hockey project…

Jett

My pro hockey dreams are hanging by a thread. I need to have a great season and that means no partying, no distractions, no fun. The grad student pestering me for science-y help on his thesis is the definition of no fun, so…okay.

Pros and cons of agreeing to this

Positive use of free time. (At least that’s what my agent says.)
Malcolm likes big words and his first language is math. He’s also bossy, clumsy, and he doesn’t know the first thing about hockey.

But he’s also cute and he’s got a great sense of humor and—oh no.

I cannot have a crush on the geek. No way. Not now.

Malcolm

Yes, I’m a serious student, but a hockey project is not serious. Who cares about big hunky hockey players zipping around a sheet of ice at warp speed? Not I.

According to my professor, however, the only way to attain the required data is to study the specimen in his natural habitat, AKA, the ice rink.

My thesis should lead to a bevy of job offers.
Jett. He’s impossible—too big, too handsome, too gruff and yet disarmingly charming and—

Okay, fine. I like the jock…a lot.

Lately, I find myself wondering if there’s such a thing as a one-time shot at forever.

One-Time Shot is a low-angst, geek-jock MM college hockey romance featuring a charismatic hockey star and an adorkable scientist.

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

CHAPTER 1

JETT

“Knowing yourself is the beginning of all wisdom.”—Aristotle

The clang of silverware and the hum of animated conversation echoed off the walls and rain-streaked windows of the local greasy spoon. In spite of the crappy weather, there was a line at the reception area and a gaggle of students waiting at the takeout counter.

On the surface, Bear Depot was nothing special—scuffed and cracked tiled flooring, uncomfortable booths with red, peeling and faded leatherette upholstery, and wood tables scarred with the initials of patrons dating back five or six decades ago. But it was affordable on a college budget, and the food was tasty.

Best of all, the waitstaff loved hockey players.

“Your club sandwich and triple-bacon cheeseburger will be up in a few minutes.” A middle-aged brunet, with a megawatt smile and eyelashes so long they didn’t bother pretending to be real, set two large milkshakes down with a wink. “While you wait…a double-chocolate-chip and a cookies-and-cream shake on the house.”

“You’re the best, Shar,” I gushed, stabbing a straw into the chocolate-chip goodness. “Thank you.”

“Mmhmm.” Ty slurped whipped cream like a heathen and nodded enthusiastically. “The best!”

“You’re welcome. That win against Central was absolute perfection. Keep it up, boys.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Ty grinned, sporting a white foamy mustache that would have looked goofy as fuck on any other six-foot-four dude with a light beard, copious tats, and muscles galore. Not Ty. He was the kind of confident that got away with sophomoric antics and the occasional lapse of manners.

I rolled my eyes as soon as Shar had moved on. “You’re such a kiss-ass.”

“Jealous? You know the ladies love me, Erickson. What can I say?” He waggled his bushy brows and took another sip. “They like you too, but you’re not as sweet as me.”

True enough. “Fuck sweet.”

“See? You’re an asshole. A lovable one…sort of. Though Coach didn’t agree today.”

“Coach didn’t like anybody today. Did you see him get on Brady’s case and—” I glanced over my shoulder, following Ty’s straying gaze. “What are you looking at?”

“That dude is staring at you. Or me. I can’t tell.”

I twisted slightly in my seat. “Who? I don’t see—oh.”

A willowy, thin guy with wavy dark-blond hair, glasses, a navy V-neck sweater, and khaki cargo pants that gave serious dad vibes was currently craning his head in our direction.

“Maybe he’s a hockey fan,” Ty suggested.

“Maybe.” I shrugged, sucking milkshake through the straw before continuing my earlier gripe session.

I wasn’t the type to complain about teammates who weren’t pulling their weight. Gossiping was counterproductive. However, I wasn’t opposed to brainstorming with a trusted friend who more or less had the same goal as I did—to be signed with a professional team, stat. Ty was two years younger, though. He had time on his side. Me…not so much.

As a kid, I’d had lofty dreams of getting drafted by the Red Wings straight out of high school. Even then, I’d been vaguely aware that it wasn’t how the system worked, but I’d believed the coaches who’d told me I had the potential to do great things. Maybe to even be the next Great One.

Gullible? A touch. At this point, there was a snowball’s chance in hell that was gonna happen.

First up, I was a senior in college now, and my long-suffering agent hadn’t had much luck finding me a postgraduation gig in the pros. Or anywhere worthwhile. A smarter man would have a backup plan, like selling real estate for my dad’s firm—but I couldn’t let go of the idea that I still had a shot.

My success was tied to my team, though, and we were off to a lackluster start. Sure, it was early in the season, and we’d won a few easy games—like our recent one against Central. It was the tougher ones on the schedule that worried me. If Brady didn’t figure out how to pass with some level of accuracy soon, I’d look like a schmuck out there, constantly chasing errant pucks and⁠—

“You’re future-trippin’, Jettster. You gotta quit that shit, or you’ll end up missing out on what’s happening here and now,” Ty advised, stuffing the last of his ginormous burger into his mouth.

“Nothing is happening right now. Only hockey.” I pushed my empty plate aside and vacuumed the remnants of my shake from the bottom of my glass.

To his credit, Ty waited till he’d chewed and swallowed before attempting further conversation. “Incorrect. Langley’s having a party Friday night, and you, my friend, need to be there.”

“Do I?”

“You do. Pretty girls, party favors, and…a chance to do some team bonding off the freaking ice. Trust me. That shit matters, too.” He checked his vibrating cell and tossed a few bills onto the table. “Sorry, man, I gotta run.”

I frowned, but abrupt departures were very much Ty’s style. He was a big-entrance, big-exit kind of guy. No doubt there was a girl waiting for him somewhere. Or a guy. Fine by me…as long as he’d left enough to cover his part.

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