Absolutely Not in Love (Sweater Weather, #7; Appies, #2)

by Jenny Proctor

“But you wish you were?” I breathe out a sigh. “Something like that. But she isn’t really into hockey.” Mom turns and heads across the living room. “Then it’s a good thing you’re more than a hockey player.” Her words resonate deep in my gut. I am more. And if there’s ever been a time to remind Gracie of that, it’s right now.

I swallow against the knot in my throat. I thought I loved watching Gracie all dressed up, playing on stage with the rest of the Harvest Hollow Symphony. But here, in my living room, playing for me—only me—I just hope she doesn’t need me to talk. Because my words are gone. Disappeared.

She’s playing Bach’s first violin sonata—my grandmother’s favorite piece. My favorite piece.

I’ll follow her anywhere. Whatever it takes. Whatever she wants. I’m hers.