Breakaway: An Accidental Marriage Hockey Romance (Sinners on the Ice)
Chapter 1

“Are you on your way?”

“Sorry, babe. I still have a ton of work to do. Release week is always crazy, and the testers found another bug. I need to fix it.”

An exasperated breath springs out of my mouth, and I mask it with a cough. If I’d known Travis wasn’t going to be able to join me, I wouldn’t have agreed to go. I’m always happy to see my best friend, but going to a club with her and her fake boyfriend is definitely not something I planned on.

“Any chance you can meet us later?” I ask, descending the stairs. The click of my heels echoes in the stairwell.

“I’m not sure, Nev. No one is going to fix my code for me, and with the release on Monday, I have a pretty tight deadline. And⁠—”

“And you’re working overtime again?” I huff, tightening my grip around my phone.

“You moved our date twice last week because you had to work overtime too. Did I say anything? Writing that article about the art exhibition was important to you, and I knew it.”

Sighing, I close my eyes for a second. He’s right. “Sorry, Trav. I know it’s not your fault.” I walk to the front door and push it open, stepping onto the street. “See you tomorrow then? Maybe we can hang out at my place?”

“How about you come over after the club? Even if it’s late. I miss you.”

A smile pulls at my lips, and warmth spreads through my body. Who knew that being stuck in an elevator could bring someone like Travis into my life? Definitely not me. It’s too much like Serendipity, and I don’t believe in fate. “Okay, I’ll text you later,” I murmur.

Once I hang up, I shoot a quick text to Angie. Just to let her know that I’ll be third-wheeling with her and Drake.

Me:

I’ll be at the club in 40. Alone. Travis is still at the office

Angie:

Sucks that he’s busy, but don’t worry. Drake says he can invite one of his teammates. You won’t be a third wheel.

Me:

Tell your fake boyfriend I love him.

Angie:

Chuckling, I shove my phone into my purse and notice my Uber pulling up in front of my apartment building. Well, I can only hope Drake’s teammate is a nice guy, like him. I hung out with my fair share of jocks when I was in high school and college, and I can safely say that those guys aren’t my type. They are too self-absorbed and too cocky—but not in a good way. I also never seem to have anything in common with them. Spending the night dancing with an arrogant and self-centered ass would be a bummer.

“Nev, over here!” Angie calls out from the entrance to the club.

She’s standing with Drake, whose hand is secured around her narrow waist. Her long brown hair streams down her slender shoulders. She’s wearing a red dress that highlights her sun-kissed skin and her flawless body. Big and bulky, Drake hovers over her with his broad shoulders and six-foot-five frame. They are the picture-perfect couple. She’s the one who has always believed in magic, making a wish any time she sees 12:12 on a clock. I’m not superstitious like her, but I’m ready to cross my fingers and even my toes for these two to finally get together officially. Their fake dating doesn’t make any sense.

“Hey, lovebirds.” I smile, stopping in front of them. “Sorry if I made you wait. My Uber was driving so slow.”

“Hey, Nev.” Angie leans forward and plants a kiss on my cheek. “You’re fine; we got here like five minutes ago.”

“And we’re still waiting for Roman,” Drake announces, fixing his dark brown eyes on me. “So, don’t you worry. You won’t be third wheeling.”

“Did you set me up on a double date with your teammate?” I tease, noticing his eyes rounding.

“What? No, I just thought⁠—”

“Drake, I’m joking!” I giggle, glancing between him and Angie. With how she’s chewing on her bottom lip, I know she’s trying to bottle up her laughter. “I love you two, but I’m glad I’m not going to spend the night feeling like I’m in your way.”

“Never.” Angie glances at something over my shoulder. “Hi, Roman.”

I turn my head; my gaze trails up a male’s chest in a tight black tee, and clashes with eyes that are a deep turquoise color. Naughtiness glitters behind his irises, and a coy smirk forms on his clean-shaven face. His eyes slide down my body, and my skin ignites. I’m suddenly feeling hot. This guy is easily the most handsome man I’ve ever seen.

I blink, breaking the trance I’ve gotten myself into. Am I really salivating over a guy? Just because of his looks?

Don’t you remember Kyle Edwards, Nevaeh?

The prettiest faces often hide the ugliest souls.

Rolling my lips together, I look away and focus my attention on Angie. She frowns as her eyes roam over my face. She didn’t miss the way I went from smiling to scowling. Not that it surprises me. Since I met her on my first day of college, she’s been the only person in my life who knows everything about me. She gives me everything—love, zero judgment, and unconditional support. And I love her in return just the same.

“Hey, Drake, Angie,” the guy says, lining up with me. “Sorry if I made you wait.”

“Totally fine, man.” Drake shifts his gaze from this guy to me. “Roman, this is Nevaeh.”

Glancing to my left, I crane my neck so I can look him in the eyes. Even with heels on, I barely reach his chin. He’s probably a good six foot three. I’m not sure if it’s his height or the cocky grin on his face as he studies me from under his thick eyelashes, but something about him irritates me.

It doesn’t mean anything. I’m not going to be friends with this guy. This can be the first and the last time we see each other.

I extend my hand to him. “Nice to meet you, Roman.”

His gaze slips to my outstretched hand, then flashes back to my face. A slight tilt of his head, and he cradles my palm with his. My heartbeat goes pitter-patter, and a breath gets stuck in my throat. Our eyes lock, and he gives my hand a firm shake. His skin is warm and calloused. A billion tingles spread through my body; my whole being vibrates from one simple handshake. It’s so weird, it freaks me out. I force a smile on my face and pull my hand away.

“It’s nice to meet you, Nevaeh,” he murmurs without averting his gaze.

I nod and look away, not meeting Angie’s eyes. The last thing I need is for her to start asking questions when I have no idea what’s going on with me myself.

“Should we head inside?” Drake suggests, and relief washes over me. A crowded club is exactly what I need to pull myself together. I’m in a relationship, and that’s all that matters.

“Do you need a refill?” Hearing the question, I squint at Roman. We’ve been at the club for three hours, and now we’re sitting at the bar to catch our breath. “Nevaeh?”

“No, I’m good,” I tell him, returning my gaze to the dance floor. For the last five minutes, I’ve been eyeing the crowd, into which Angie and Drake disappeared. I don’t know how I feel about being left alone with Roman. The number of times he has made me laugh tonight is equal to the number of times I’ve wanted to strangle him.

“How long have you known Angie?” he asks, and I meet his gaze. There’s a glass of whiskey in his hand, and his eyes are glued to my face.

“Since our freshman year.” I shrug, my fingers drumming on the bar. “What about you? How long have you known Drake?”

“We met on the ice before he joined the Thunders. Plus, his best friend, Colton Thompson, talked my ear off about him. When Drake walked into the locker room last season, I felt like I had already known him forever,” he drawls, bringing his glass to his lips. My traitorous eyes zero in on it. My mouth goes dry, and I pinch my brows together. Please, not again. “Angie and Drake look great together.”

“He’s helping her get rid of her ex. They’re just fake dating,” I mumble, noticing how his eyes widen. Oh my God! What am I doing? Angie’s going to hate me. “Forget I said that—I’m full of shit.”

Roman stares at me with the glass still pressed to his lips. Then he lifts one shoulder and says, “Horosho⁠1.”

I sit up straighter and tilt my head to the side, watching him with my eyes narrowed. “You’re Russian, right?”

A chuckle escapes his lips as he lowers the glass. “No.”

“But that was Russian, the word you said…wasn’t it?”

“It was,” he deadpans.

“Then how come you speak Russian if you’re not Russian?” I hook one leg over the other to sit more comfortably.

“You do realize people speak Russian in more countries than just Russia, right?” Roman puts his elbow on the bar and props his head on his fist.

“Duh, of course.” I look away from his taunting smile. “Teach me something in Russian,” I say, peering at him again.

“Like?”

“Teach me how to say thank you.”

“That’s easy. Spasibo⁠2,” Roman says nonchalantly. “Do you want me to say it slower?”

“Spasibo,” I repeat after him.

He continues to stare at me, not saying a single word. Suddenly Drake and Angie join us, glancing between Roman and me.

“You’re saying it all wrong,” he finally mutters, his eyebrows pinched together.

Rolling my eyes, I exhale and say as slowly as possible, “Spasibo.” I arch an eyebrow and cross my arms over my chest. “What’s wrong? I nailed it. Admit it.”

His eyes slide to Angie and Drake, and then he brings his gaze back to me. “That was better, but you definitely need more practice.”

My jaw unhinges, and my eyes are probably ready to pop out of their sockets. “You’re…” I point my finger at Roman. “A jerk. That was my first time trying to say anything in Russian — of course I need more practice.”

Without a single care in his voice, he takes his glass from the bar. “Saying ‘thank you’ in Belarusian would’ve been way harder, doll.”

“Doll?” I echo, snatching his drink and downing it in one go. “Buy yourself another one.”

I look at Angie, calculating in my head how to tell her about my slipup. Pulling her away from Drake and his insufferable teammate is my best shot. Without another thought, I jump off the barstool, wrap my hand around Angie’s wrist, and announce, “We’re dancing.”

Angie tries to argue, but I just pull her further into the crowd. Something about this guy makes me act stupid, and I need a break if I don’t want to end the night doing something more ridiculous. I’ve already made too many mistakes tonight.

“Nev, what’s wrong?” Angie asks, her deep green eyes staring at me warmly. I snake my hand around her waist, silently pushing her to start dancing. “Are you upset we left you with Roman?”

“No. Just…” I trail off, mulling over my next words. “He was teasing me, and I let it slip that you and Drake are fake dating.” Angie’s mouth forms a little O, and she blinks. “I’m so sorry.”

She sighs. “It’s fine. I’ll talk to Drake. This whole charade is getting out of hand anyway. I should’ve never asked him to pretend⁠—”

“Are you pretending?” I catch her off guard with my question and can’t help but smile when I notice a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. “He’s a great guy, Angie.”

“I know.” Her eyes roam over my face. “What do you think about Roman?”

The smile drops from my lips immediately. “He’s okay. What should I think about him?”

“You’ve been acting kinda weird tonight, and I can’t really put my finger on it, but I think it might be because of him.”

“I’m with Travis,” I state matter-of-factly. Without waiting for her next words, I turn her around and press my chest to her back. “I’m happy.”

Dancing with Angie, I try to push every single thought out of my mind. But then I remember I’m supposed to go to Travis’s later, and suddenly, I feel like the biggest liar on Earth.

Heading toward the bar, I let my gaze roam over Roman. He sits with his back to me, and a visible tension in his shoulders catches my attention. His rigid posture is a significant difference from how he was with me, or even when we were all together. It’s as if he’s uncomfortable being here alone.

I swallow my nerves and slide my palms down the skirt of my dress, trying to straighten it. Once I’m right behind him, I tap him on the shoulder. For some reason, my fingers linger on his tee, feeling his tense muscles underneath it. Roman jerks in his seat, and his head swivels in my direction.

“Drake said you’d look after me.” I pull my hand away and climb onto the barstool beside him. “They left.”

He scans me from head to toe, the glint in his eyes turning dark. The tip of his tongue slips out of his mouth, and he slowly licks his lips. I watch him, enchanted, warmth unfurling in my lower abdomen. The excitement. The longing. The craziest need. I ball my fists on my lap, my nails digging into my skin. What is so fucking special about this guy? I’ve never felt like this before. It’s utterly wrong.

“Did you tell Angie about you blurting out her secret?” he asks, his voice deep and low. Even over the loud music, I hear him clearly. As if he’s whispering right into my ear.

“I did,” I confirm. “Did you mention it to Drake?”

“I did.” He nods, a smile lifting his lips. “I don’t think they will be fake dating much longer. Those two are in love; it’s clear to everyone around them. It’s time they recognize it too.”

Biting my bottom lip, I try to hide my smile but fail. With a big toothy grin, I let my shoulders drop, and the tension I felt disappears. Lightness fills my every pore as I wave to catch the bartender’s attention. The guy beside me is not who I thought he was, and maybe that was the reason I was so weird around him. That must be it.

“Do you want to hang out for a bit, or do you need to get home?” I ask, realizing that my heartbeat is calmer now. The lighting dynamically illuminates the place, an ever-changing spectrum that dances to the rhythm. The music reverberates through my skin as I wait for his answer.

Roman runs his fingers through his sandy blond hair, his eyes trained on me. “There’s no one waiting for me at home,” he tells me as the bartender joins us. “I can stay for a few more hours, if you’re in.”

I smile. “I’m in.”

“Are you always such a gentleman?” I glance at Roman as we make our way to the exit. His hand is on my lower back, guiding me forward and keeping me from swaying.

“I’m not a gentleman,” he bites out.

Stopping abruptly in the middle of the crowd, I make him halt in his tracks too. I turn toward him, letting my eyes sweep over his body. The pulsating vein in his neck makes my breath hitch, and I force myself to look up. The second my gaze meets his, I smile, and the heat rekindles in my lower abdomen. “You are. You’ve been watching out for me all night, making sure I always had a drink, waiting for me outside the bathroom.”

Roman dips his head, pinning me with his stare. His turquoise eyes burn into mine. My chest rises and falls, and the rhythmic bass has nothing to do with how my body trembles.

“A real man always keeps his word,” he says and steps back, hiding his hands in his pockets. “Let’s go.”

Without sparing me a glance, he turns on his heel and easily makes his way through the crowd. I gawk at his back as he moves further and further away from me. Good job, Nevaeh. Was it really necessary to flirt with him again? The last two hours I spent in Roman’s company were completely different than the moment I met him. All my awkwardness disappeared, and I was just myself. Flirty and easygoing. It looked like he was in need of company, and my babbling provided that. Until ten minutes ago, when he finally had enough of me. I lightly slap my cheeks with my palms and follow him.

Outside, I lean my back against the wall and take a deep breath. A cool breeze envelops my body, and I shiver when I notice Roman moving toward me.

“Okay, I need your address.” He stops in front of me, his phone in hand. “Nevaeh?”

I focus my blurry vision on him. The alcohol in my system is making my legs wobbly. “I’m not going home.”

He sighs and purses his lips in annoyance. “Just give me an address, so I can call an Uber.”

I click my tongue and tell him Travis’s address, adding, “I’m going to my boyfriend’s.”

Roman’s blues replace mine for a moment, and then he looks away. “Okay. I just want to make sure you get wherever you’re going safely.” He pockets his phone. “We’re lucky; we don’t need to wait long. The car will be here in five.”

I push some strands of hair off my face, tucking them behind my ears. “Why did you stay after Drake and Angie left?”

“Because. It’s nice to get a change of scenery from time to time,” he replies, folding his arms over his chest. The tattoos on his left arm draw my attention.

His tattoos aren’t a sleeve; they’re scattered all over his arm. They’re chaotic and kinda senseless: numbers, some words, a dreamcatcher, a heart on fire. The second my gaze falls on one colorful tattoo, I reach out and touch his skin.

“SpongeBob,” I mumble under my breath, leaning forward to get a closer look. There’s a word written beneath it, but before I have a chance to figure it out, he steps back, his arms dangling at his sides. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he states, holding my gaze, and yet the deep scowl on his face screams otherwise. Even though I know I should keep my mouth shut, curiosity gets the best of me.

“Do you love SpongeBob so much that you got a tattoo⁠—”

“It’s just a tattoo.” Roman glances over his shoulder, and I swear I hear him sigh in relief. “Our Uber is here.” He trains his eyes on me, and literal chills run down my spine. The corners of his mouth drop—there’s not even the tiniest shadow of a smile. The heaviness of his stare makes my knees give out, and I tumble forward, barely stopping myself from face-planting.

“You okay?” he asks, and I nod, beelining toward the car in silence. All I want is to get as far away from him as possible. His mood swings give me whiplash.

After thirty agonizing minutes in the car with the guy, who spent the whole ride texting with someone and ignoring my presence, I feel way more sober. The guilt of having flirted with Roman gnaws at me, making me feel terrible about myself. Travis has always been good to me, and he doesn’t deserve his girlfriend hitting on another man while he was busy at work. It was disrespectful and stupid. I should know better.

The Uber stops in front of Travis’s building, and I climb out of the car. I’m tempted to just slam the door and walk away, but hearing him say my name stops me in my tracks.

“Nevaeh?”

I bend down, my eyes meeting his. “What?”

“Thank you for hanging out with me. You saved me from another night getting lost in my head.”

“You’re welcome.” I shrug and take a step back. “Bye.”

“I’ll be seeing you.” His soft murmur goes straight through me; the back of my neck feels hot. Without another glance, I close the car door and hurry into the building.

Once I hear Travis’s voice through the intercom, I relax. Everything that happened tonight stops mattering. A familiar comfort blankets me, and I feel at ease. I have no idea why I reacted to Roman the way I did, but if there’s one thing I’m certain of, it’s that Travis makes me feel good. Whatever happened at the club is meaningless.

It’s nothing.

1 Хорошо. — Okay.

2 Спасибо — Thank you