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

by Jenny Proctor

once I’m in the net and the puck drops, all background noise fades away. It’s just me and the game and my determination to stop every single shot. My pregame mantra runs through my head and settles me into the zone. I’m steady. I’m focused. No one controls me but me. I make eye contact with Logan as he skates by to take his position, and he grins. Then we’re on. The guys are good to me, playing killer defense, but by the end of the second period, the other team still hasn’t scored, and I’ve got a near-record number of saves for one game. Logan is on fire tonight, the rest of the guys, too, and their energy makes it easy for me to keep up the pace for one more period. The last shot I block, I catch with my glove, and it hits hard. I’ll probably have a bruise, but when the game-ending buzzer sounds seconds later, I don’t give my hand a second thought. We won. And it was a total shutout. We’re all cheering and celebrating the win when I see Logan a few yards away, looking into the stands, his eyes trained on Parker. Nathan skates by and pats me on the back in a gesture of support, but I can’t take my eyes off Logan’s lovestruck face. He looks like a man who knows what he wants—who has what he wants. My eyes drift over the crowd—Mom is out there somewhere—but it doesn’t feel the same. I want something more. Someone more. The feeling stays with me the entire time I’m showering and getting dressed. The guys are all going out, and I’d generally join them—I’ll easily give up a nig...