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

by Jenny Proctor

some things are the same. He’s an Appie, Summer. That means he’s traveling. It means in every single city, there are women who find out where the players are sleeping and proposition them just because they play hockey. It means he has the same wild ambition, the same death wish, they all have. Why is it so wrong for me to disqualify someone who has dedicated his life to a sport I don’t like? Aren’t we allowed to have deal breakers?” She shrugs and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “My sister had a thousand misgivings about dating someone like Flint Hawthorne. Things she might have even called dealbreakers. And look at them now. He’s the greatest thing that ever happened to her.” “And I’m happy for her,” I say. “But that isn’t what this is. It isn’t the same.” She holds up her hands like she’s finally ready to concede. “Okay. I won’t say anything else about it. But I still think you’re being stubborn. And it might mean missing out on something really great.” Maybe I am being stubborn. But Summer doesn’t get it. She doesn’t understand what hockey does to me. The sight of the sticks, the bags, the sound of the blades cutting the ice, it stirs up this feeling, this discomfort, that I can’t quite shake. Somehow, I just know. If I go down this road, I’ll wind up getting hurt. I fold my arms across my chest. “I’d rather take my chances with gym shorts Jim.” She presses her lips together. “The gym teacher at your school is actually named Jim?” “James,” I say. “But everyone ca...