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

Sitting on a chair in the kitchen, I watch Roman put a plate stacked with pancakes and a little bowl of sour cream on the table. Our eyes meet, and a smile rises on my lips. Big and open. I just can’t help myself when he’s around.

“How did you sleep in Cancún? Are your nightmares…” I fall silent, suddenly unsure if I should’ve brought it up.

“I sleep better when other people are around,” he says, placing two glasses and some apple juice on the table. “Crawford and his friends rented a villa. It was all good.”

A pang in my chest quickly erases the smile from my face, and jealousy flares in my heart. I twist my lips and squint at Happy, quietly snoring on the floor beside me. The feeling is all consuming, I can’t even find the words to fill this awkward pause.

I saw the pictures from his trip. All the beautiful girls who were there with him. The Stories he posted for his Close Friends list. I wish I hadn’t asked Angie to show them to me. Seeing them didn’t do me any good, only brought me distress and made me feel miserable.

He thought I wasn’t over my ex. No surprise he’d want a rebound.

“Good to know.” I force the words out of my mouth and avert my eyes to the pancakes, avoiding looking at him at all costs. “Okay, can you tell me again what this is?”

“Draniki. Potato pancakes. Nothing fancy, but still delicious.”

“Is it, like, a national dish?” I raise my eyes and see him studying me with a gentle smile on his lips.

“Kinda. Potato pancakes are something you’ll also find in Polish cuisine, in Lithuanian, and in so many others. I’ve tried them in all those countries,” he says with a shrug, setting his elbows on the table. “And I simply love them.”

I place a pancake on my plate, cut off a little piece, and put it in my mouth. It’s savory, with a little bit of salt and probably some onions. The longer I chew, the closer he inches to me. His eyes are glued to my face.

“I’m going to choke on my food if you keep staring at me like that,” I tell him, pouring some apple juice in my glass.

Roman laughs, leaning back in his seat. He puts four pancakes on his plate, adds some sour cream, and instantly takes a bite. Closing his eyes, he chews with an absolutely satisfied look on his face. I shake my head, add more pancakes to my plate, and start eating.

“Add sour cream,” he suddenly says. “It’s better that way.”

“Really?” I arch an eyebrow but do as he says. Curiosity has always been my Achilles heel, and I’m not sure that will ever change. If this ends up ruining the taste— “God, it’s so good!” I exclaim loudly. “Why didn’t you tell me about the sour cream from the start?”

“I didn’t get the chance,” he says with humor in his voice.

“Next time you treat me to something new, tell me how I should eat it.” I point my fork at him. “Deal?”

“Whatever you want, Malyshka.”

The words leave his mouth sounding nonchalant, ordinary even. Yet I’m immediately transported back in time, to our moment in the living room. Sadness surrounds me, clouding my mind.

“When we do whatever I want, it doesn’t end well,” I mutter hoarsely, not thinking twice about what I’m about to say. “I end up all alone in your apartment while you fly to another country and spend time surrounded by tons of stunning girls.”

The kitchen pitches into a booming silence. It’s like I turned off all sound with my words. I hate this. The way he affects me is overwhelming; it knocks all rational sense out of me. We’re not even a couple, but I feel like I’m losing myself in him. And the stupidest thing is…I think I like it.

Because it feels right.

“Nevaeh.”

I look up, my eyes clashing with his. So many emotions flash through me, replacing each other at an unbelievable speed. I’m tired of this hopelessness, of this overpowering feeling of jealousy whenever I think about him with other girls. And I’m so tired of him not wanting me back.

“Tons of stunning girls might’ve been around, but I couldn’t care less about any of them,” he says, looking at me from under his eyelashes. His gaze is so intense and penetrating, it feels as if he’s looking right through me. I smirk, shaking my head. As if I’m going to beli— “I couldn’t stop thinking about the one I left at home.”

“Really?” I blurt, feeling close to fainting from happiness. It’s so not like me; I should be worried, but all I care about is the hope that rekindles in my chest. The warmth that is coursing through my veins, setting my skin on fire.

Roman nods, grinning his beautiful, crooked smile. “Really, Malyshka. I’m sorry for hurting you that night, and I’m sorry for leaving without saying a word. I’m not a coward, but I acted like one for sure.”

“You’re not⁠—”

“Nevaeh,” he groans. “If you keep defending me when I clearly don’t deserve it, I’ll have to teach you a lesson.”

“Are you going to punish me?” I ask, biting my bottom lip.

He picks up his glass from the table and presses it to his lips, holding my gaze. “Maybe,” he murmurs, before sipping his juice.

I beam at him, glancing at Happy, who’s on his back, quietly whimpering in his sleep. Bending down, I pet his belly, butterflies fluttering their wings in my stomach. Around Roman, they’re never calm. They fly around and make me all giddy and hopeful. And maybe horny. Definitely horny, based on the wetness between my thighs.

“My brother…Maksim died in a car crash.” I sit up straighter, my eyes glued to his. The pain in his gaze is evident, shuttering all my giddiness and horniness at once. “He got in the car with our friend Kirill, who was so drunk he lost control of the car.”

Roman pauses, and I notice his knuckles turning white, tightly wrapped around the glass. Holding my breath, I wait, my heart pumping nervously in my chest.

“Kirill only broke his leg, but Maks died on the spot. His side of the car struck a traffic pole and got wrapped around it.” His voice is monotone and emotionless. His glassy stare focused on the wall behind me. “At least he didn’t suffer. No pain. No agony. He probably didn’t even realize he was about to die.”

“I’m so sorry, Roman.” I cover my mouth with my palm.

He meets my gaze, and I feel like I’m drowning in his sorrow. His blue eyes remind me of the deepest ocean, one full of pain and hurt. His grief knots my stomach; my heart aches, and his pain makes it bleed. For him. “Kirill was sentenced to five years in jail, even though my mom and I were asking for less. Maks knew he was getting in the car with a drunk driver. He knew and still asked our friend to give him a ride. All because of her.”

I frown, eyebrows pierced together as I lower my hand. “Her?”

“Alisa. My brother’s girlfriend,” he hisses. His lips purse into a tight line, and his jaw ticks. “Our teammate saw her with her ex, and told Maksim. My brother got in Kirill’s car that night because he was worried the girl he loved was cheating on him. It wasn’t anything new, unfortunately. She’d been leading both guys on for months, playing both of them. It was all a game to her, and Maks paid for it with his life.”

The air is stuck in my lungs; my heart constricts painfully. I press my palm to my chest, tears filling my eyes. “Oh my God…I’m so very sorry. That’s horrible.”

“After his funeral, I promised myself I’d never get involved with anyone if they were in a relationship. That I wouldn’t even look twice at a girl who wasn’t over her ex or was keeping him close,” Roman says. “Taken girls and ‘it’s complicated’ girls are off-limits for me.”

“I told you it was complicated between Travis and me,” I whisper, the picture becoming clearer by the second. “And then all the flowers, and that text…”

“Yeah.”

“Travis and I broke up. I don’t see myself ever getting back together with him. For me, that relationship was over the second I got sick after seeing the ring he bought for me.” I give him a weak smile. “When I met with him two weeks ago, I made sure he knew where I stand. He hasn’t tried to see me once since then. There have been no flowers or texts. He’s keeping his distance, just like I asked him to.” I look down at Happy and then return my gaze to Roman. “I was lonely here, so when I saw Travis in the elevator, I asked him if I could take Happy for the weekend. He said yes.”

“I’m glad he let you take him,” Roman says, putting his glass on the table. “I’ve been thinking about getting a cat or a dog, but with my away games, it’s not possible.”

“Cooper always saves Angie from boredom when Drake is away.”

“I bet he does.” He tilts his head, scrutinizing me. “Did Angie show you my Stories? Or Drake?”

Embarrassment heats my cheeks and my neck. I rap my fingers on the table, silently scolding myself for my big mouth. With a sigh, I nod. “Angie. She didn’t want to, but…I was a little desperate.” I lower my gaze to my lap. “Or a lot.”

Roman doesn’t say anything. He stands up from the table, takes our empty plates, and goes to put them in the dishwasher. I wait, not knowing what to expect. Turning around, he leans against the kitchen counter, his arms crossed over his chest.

“I think I like this about you. Your possessive side,” he murmurs, lighting a fire within me with his words.

As slowly as possible, I stand up and strut toward him. My eyes devour every inch of him, from his legs to his handsome face. His hair is messy, and all I want is to run my fingers through it.

“Possessive me is jealous me. Do you like that too?”

He licks his bottom lip, unfolding his arms and winding his hands around my waist. My chest is up against his, and a puff of air leaves my mouth. Roman lowers his head, his eyes holding enough fire to burn us both.

“No. Jealousy isn’t something I want you to feel. Ever,” he whispers, making me breathless. He takes my chin between his thumb and index finger, tilting my face up to him. “Just like I’ll never get involved with someone taken, I’ll never pursue someone else if I’m in a relationship. Or if I like someone.” His lips press to mine, briefly, like the touch of a feather. Fleetingly. And still…it’s everything. “And I like you, Nevaeh. A lot.”

“I would’ve never guessed if you hadn’t kissed me that night,” I tell him, wrapping my arms around his torso.

His head lolls back, and he laughs heartily. “I’ve always liked you. Since the moment I first met you.”

“Really?” I lean back, searching his face with my eyebrows pinched together. It feels so surreal, I’m having trouble wrapping my head around it.

“You weren’t single, remember? I didn’t want you to know how I felt. I didn’t want anyone to know.”

“You’re so good at keeping secrets.” I stand on my tiptoes. The desire to feel his lips on mine again is clouding my judgment.

“Some secrets are worth keeping.” His lips hover over mine, and I can almost taste them. Soft and luscious. So fucking addictive I can’t even stand straight; my whole body is trembling. A shiver of anticipation rolls down my spine, and I run my tongue over my bottom lip.

“Nevaeh…”

He says my name like a warning. In a low growl, thick with his accent, because he’s not controlling himself.

“Kiss me,” I demand, sliding my hand under his tee and feeling his abs contract under my touch.

He smirks and presses his lips to my forehead instead. “Happy needs to go home, Malyshka. I won’t be able to stop if I kiss you now, and fucking you on my kitchen counter in front of your little dog isn’t going to happen.”

A loud gasp springs from my lips when he turns me around and my back crashes into his chest. His hot breath on my skin sends a jolt of electricity all over my body, one that nestles in my lower abdomen. So fucking hot.

“Even if the view would be absolutely fantastic,” he whispers in my ear. Then he pushes me to start moving toward the living room. My whole being is vibrating from our closeness.

And dammit if I don’t want him to do exactly that…spread me open on his kitchen counter and fuck me till I can’t walk.

I hope he will be up to it after we take Happy back.