Page 84 of Perfect Boy

Watson

Link scores on me—again. But judging by the look on his face, he’s not happy about it. He looks concerned and a bit annoyed. Hunter doesn’t say anything because I’m sure, thanks to his girlfriend being my soon-to-be ex-wife’s best friend, he already knows what’s going on inside my head. And Cade isn’t even here to cheer me the fuck up because he’s still in fucking rehab.

“Are you sleeping out there or what, Gentry?” Coach roars. “If you play like this at this weekend’s game, you’ll find yourself on the bench. That’s a promise.”

Normally, I’d say sorry. Usually, I wouldn’t even have to get threatened to ride the bench in the first place. Because before Ryann Denver, hockey was the only thing that mattered.

Then, suddenly, hockey came second to her, my fake wife.

I’m in the world’s worst mood.

Practice this morning sucked because all I could think about was the fact that my so-called wife is going back to Canada and I don’t even know when. And she signed her name. She fucking wrote out her signature on the annulment papers. Pretty much saying our marriage doesn’t mean shit to her.

Why should I be surprised though? She’s proven time and time again that she doesn’t feel the same way I do. I should have taken a hint the first time when I walked up to her in class and she bit my head off for speaking to her.

While the team prepares to run through another play, I squirt some Gatorade in my mouth just as LaConte makes his way over to me.

Great.

“Everything all right, Gentry?” he says, tucking his clipboard under his arm. “Because no offense, but you fucking suck right now. Have all damn practice.”

“All good,” I answer quickly.

“Out of this entire team, Gentry, you’ve always been one I didn’t have to worry about letting the outside world affect your ability to show up and just play hockey.” His eyes widen, shooting me some sort of warning. “I hope that hasn’t changed.”

“No, sir.” I shake my head. “I’ll do better. Sorry.”

He gives me a pointed look, and his voice lowers as he says, “I asked you not long ago if you had gotten yourself in a mess. I don’t know what the hell is going on with you today, but I sure hope you weren’t lying to me when you swore you hadn’t.”

I say nothing because I don’t want to lie to LaConte, but I also don’t feel like diving into the truth either. He gives me a long stare, as if seeing if I’m going to tell him what’s going on, and eventually walks off. And we resume practice. And even though I still suck, I try my best to keep it together.

If I lose my starting position and my wife all in one week, I might just lose my fucking mind too.

Walking into the house, I waste no time beelining it for the stairs. But before I can make it there, I notice Sutton sitting on the couch. Hunter pulled in right behind me—usually, we ride together, but today, the thought of talking to anyone made me pissy, so I drove by myself.

“Watson?” Her voice is small and soft, and even though I really don’t feel like talking, I stop.

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry about everything with Ryann.” She sighs. “Just know that this is hard on her too. Okay?”

I turn toward her, unable to stop the glare that sets deep in my eyes. “Hard on her? What exactly was hard on her, Sutton? Packing my shit while I was in practice? Or signing the papers to get our marriage annulled without even talking to me first?” I breathe out a resentful breath, shaking my head. “Don’t let her fool you. Nothing about this is hard on her. She’s just selfish and really fucking stubborn.”

The shock is clear on her face, followed by anger. I don’t wait around to hear what excuses she makes for her friend’s behavior. Instead, I turn my back to her and head up the stairs. Only it must be my unlucky day because she fucking follows.

“That is so not true!” she says, barging into my room behind me. “And also, watch your tone. This shit isn’t my fault!”

Pacing around, she rakes her hand through her hair. “Ughhhh. I could kill her for telling me what she did. Because now, I have to lie—or not lie—and just watch you practically sulk around and be a jerk to everyone.” She squeezes her eyes shut, rubbing her temple. “Damn it, Ryann. Why would you put me in this position!”

I stare at her. “What the fuck are you even talking about?”

She opens her eyes, dropping her hand from her head. “I shouldn’t have said anything.” Slapping her hand on my wall, she throws her head back. “Fuck! I hate this!”

Walking toward her, I look down, narrowing my eyes. “Sutton, what are you fucking saying? Talk. Now.”

Taking a breath, she cringes. “The immigration officer…he told Ryann that if she didn’t admit to the judge that she’d tricked you into marrying her and that this was all her fault and that you had no knowledge she was using you to get a visa…your future would be ruined.” She pauses, covering her mouth for a split second, like she can’t believe she let the words slip out. “She isn’t selfish, Watson. She’s trying to save you.” She shakes her head, her voice growing much softer. “You can’t possibly think that she wants to go back home after she’s worked so hard to be here in the first place?”

She reaches up, putting a hand on my shoulder. “That girl loves you. And because of that love…she’s taking the fall for this entire thing. And throwing away her own dream just so that you don’t have to give up yours.” She pauses, and then her voice is hardly a whisper as she says, “That’s not selfish…that’s love.”

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