Page 70 of Released from the Sin Bin

We all saw it. At least we saw Romy angrily running away while Gentry chased her, trying to keep his pants up. A puck bunny came waltzing out of his room after him. Romy yelled about trusting him, while Gentry swore he had no idea what happened.

It’s one of the few reasons he let me move into the basement with him. He doesn’t trust anyone or himself to be alone down here.

“I believe you.” Sort of. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s been caught cheating, but that time he admitted it. “But she doesn’t.”

“Sometimes I wonder why I’m friends with you,” he mutters to himself and moves around the room to get changed. It seems he’s not joining the party upstairs either.

That gets me thinking. I’ve never thought of Gentry as my friend. Heck, my team is supposed to be my family, but in my world, family is a group of dysfunctional people that fight and hate each other with the rare exception.

Gentry is the closest thing I have to a friend, besides Willa.

“Are we really friends?” I ask, just as he shuts his light off.

“Uh, yeah. I guess,” he grumbles. “I don’t know. I don’t have many friends. No one I really confide in, but you’re my roommate. I think that means there’s a certain roommate code for what’s said in this room, stays in this room.”

“Good,” I agree with him.

After a bout of silence, I come out with what I want to say. I don’t know if I fully trust Gentry, but I need to talk this shit out, and he’s not one for gossip. “I had sex with Willa.”

“Good for you,” he says lazily into his pillow.

“But it was different,” I continue.

“Bad different?” He shifts in his bed. My light is still on, but it’s easier to talk about this stuff without having to look at him.

“No, good different.” I take a deep breath and crack my knuckles. “It was…incredible, but we’re just friends.”

“Not anymore.” Gentry laughs. “You fucked. If it was as good as you’re saying, that means you probably had some kind of connection.”

That’s what I was afraid of.

“No matter how many women I sleep with, none of them compare to Romy. It’s more than good sex.” He shifts again and scoffs out a laugh. “Never sleep with a friend.”

Too late now. It doesn’t matter what I’m feeling, I can’t be with her. I can’t drag her into my shit, but that doesn’t mean I can’t keep fucking her.

“It doesn’t mean she feels the same,” I mutter to myself, but Gentry answers me.

“Of course it does. That’s why the connection is so good.”

“It doesn’t appear that way for Romy,” I add, feeling the need to be right. Willa made no indication that she had any sort of feelings for me.

“You’re a fucking dick.” Gentry gets up and kicks my bed with his knee on the way to our small shared bathroom.

I am a dick, but a dick that’s right. He can preach about connections and love all he wants, but I have enough willpower to know it’s just good sex.

Practicing with the defensive coach differs from what I’m used to.

I’m used to taking shots on the goal and working on stick handling, but there are a lot more skate drills to it. And I’m the only one messing it up.

“Carter,” Coach Greardon calls out as we begin skating off the ice to get cleaned up. “Stay on and do another lap.”

Fuck me. I’m fucking tired, and all I want is a hot shower and a nap.

I run through more drills and progressions, doing more than the one lap requested. I might as well enjoy the empty rink while I have it.

“Get lower,” a female voice pulls my attention to the bench. “Bend your knees more and focus on keeping your stick on the ice. It helps to focus on that other than your footwork.” Willa leans over the wall and gives me instructions.

“That’s it,” she cheers after I get a good rep in. “That was so much faster. You’re thinking about how you're staying in the zone too much.”

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