Page 121 of Released from the Sin Bin

I’m happy. Truly happy. This is the best day I’ve had since I broke my ankle. I can skate again, and this is the start of something new. It’s a fresh start.

“We should get some sleep. We have a long day tomorrow.” I turn down his attempt to follow me inside.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” His finger drops from the ignition.

More importantly, I have to talk to Jocelyn before taking him to my room in front of her. I don’t know how I’ll do it, but I don’t think it’s necessary to tell her right away. I’ll have to feel her out and then come clean.

She’ll understand. She told me Carter let her down gently, but she never said how or why, and it didn’t seem to bother her as much as I thought it would.

It isn’t going to be fun telling anyone that even when they accused us of being more; we weren’t, but we are now. I don’t think everyone will like it, but this is my life.

I kiss Carter one more time, lingering against his lips before heading in and watching him drive off to go home.

My eyes follow his car, turning toward the direction of the Hockey House.

He’s going home. Where else would he be going?

It’s late and we have practice tomorrow, but that never stopped Vic from continuing his parties.

Carter isn’t Vic.

I trust Carter.

I can trust him.

Chapter 29

Carter

I skip down to the basement to get some rest.

Is this what happy people feel like? Ordinary heel to toe walking isn’t possible. My heels barely touch the floor before I’m sprung forward to the next step.

Willa is mine. The notion fills my heart to pump against my chest like I never felt it before. It’s wild.

I reach the bottom of the steps to Gentry standing in the middle of the room, staring over my bed at the painting Willa did, that I hung earlier today.

“Is that a rat?” He asks without looking away from it.

“It’s supposed to be a cat.” I come next to him to put my clothes away.

“Why are there tits behind the moon?” He tilts his head as if it’s an abstract painting hanging in a gallery. “It has to be the ugliest painting I’ve ever seen.”

“Yeah,” I agree, sighing happily. It is ugly, but it’s Willa’s.

The painting is a reminder of how much I love her. If I can love that painting as much as I do, I must really fucking love her.

“Why are you so happy?” Gentry nudges me, and I realize I’m staring at the painting with a huge grin.

“I’m not.” I shake it off and try my best to give a brooding scowl. My mouth doesn’t want to cooperate.

“Is it Willa?” Gentry asks, grinning at his revelation. “You had sex with her again, didn’t you?”

“Don’t talk about Willa like that.” I point a finger at him. “She’s your coach.”

“And yours too.” He smacks my finger away and plops on his bed. “I didn’t mean it to be disrespectful. I’m only observing your happiness and how it’s related to when you're with Willa. Tonight, you are extra giddy.”

He gets comfortable in his bed and I do the same in mine.

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