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

The living room is dark, but I don’t turn on the lights. My phone is beside me on the couch, and I continuously glance at it. I hug my Sulley to my chest tightly, hoping to find at least a little bit of comfort. It would be so much easier if this plush toy could silence my worries like it did when I was a kid. Unfortunately, it’s not working right now. I’m a mess, and I don’t know what to do to make it easier.

Even one single thought about Roman leaving on a five-game road trip pushes my anxiety level to its peak.

The screen of my phone flashes; another message from Angie pops up. Biting my bottom lip, I debate whether or not I should reply. I’ve been avoiding her and everyone else since the game ended and I fled the arena because I couldn’t stand being there. Roman’s bleeding bottom lip and perfectly visible black eye have engraved themselves in my brain, and they’re all I can think about.

Why did he hit that Boston player? That fight seemed personal, not like others I’ve witnessed on the ice. What could’ve pushed him to do that? I can’t get rid of the feeling that it was because of me, because of my mother’s interview. Chirping happens all the time in hockey, but not everyone plays fairly.

Pushing Roman over the edge is easy, considering how hotheaded he is.

With a deep breath, I take my phone from the couch and unlock it. Swiping away Angie’s messages, I type one quick text to the person who’s caused me so many tears in the past. The person who continues causing them now, just because she’s vile.

Me:

If you ever talk to the media again, lying about me and spitting your hate, I will sue you for defamation.

Once I hit send, I stand up and go to the kitchen. I haven’t eaten anything since breakfast, but I don’t feel hungry at all. My nerves are my food, fueling me with gloomy thoughts and making me nauseous. I wish I could do something to stop it, but for the last hour, I’ve been falling deeper and deeper into my own pit of despair.

I pour myself some water and down it in one go. Then I turn around and lean on the kitchen counter. The talk I’m about to have with Roman is the only thing that keeps me sane. I just need him here with me. The warmth of his skin, the gentleness of his fingers when he tucks my hair behind my ears and caresses my cheeks, his strong arms wrapping around me and holding me tight—simple gestures that have the power to make me forget about my worries and my heartaches.

The sound of the door closing sends goosebumps all over my skin. Pushing myself off of the kitchen counter, I slowly stroll out of the kitchen. Our eyes meet the second I step into the living room. The crazy things my heart does in my chest whenever I see him don’t surprise me anymore. They scare me, because I know he is it for me, but he doesn’t see me like that.

“Hey.” I walk toward him and stop a few feet away from him. His face looks even worse now. His busted bottom lip and black eye are dead giveaways as to how brutal that hit was.

“Hey, Malyshka,” he says. Distress worms its way into my head, and my hands become clammy. Stepping closer, Roman puts his finger under my chin and raises my face to him. His gaze roams over me, and a faint smile crosses his lips. “Everything’s fine. I’ll be good as new sooner than you think.”

The corner of my mouth trembles as I fiddle with my fingers. “Why did you get into a fight with that player? Was it some⁠—”

“He thought it was okay to talk shit about my wife. I just taught him a lesson,” Roman replies, unbothered, while my heart skips a beat. His words only confirm my suspicions. He got into a fight because of me. “Let’s go for a ride,” he suddenly says.

“A ride?” I repeat, a tornado of emotions brewing inside me.

“Fancy a ride on my Kawasaki?”

My lips part, and I watch him in silence. Then, swallowing my nerves, I nod. “I’d love to.”

“Good. Then go change.” Roman steps back and turns to go to his room. “I’m going to change too. The collar of this shirt feels like a noose.”

I don’t ask questions, don’t let myself overthink his desire to get out of the house. Wheeling around, I go to my bedroom, where I still keep my clothes. I wonder what I should wear for a motorcycle ride. It will be my first.

“Here.” Roman hands me a black helmet with pink stripes. I take it, studying it quizzically. “I got it for you,” he says, and my heart starts to pummel in my chest, bringing heat to my cheeks. He got a helmet…for me.

“Thank you so much.”

Roman nods, takes my hand, and makes me follow him to a black motorcycle that’s parked beside his BMW. He climbs onto it and glances at me over his shoulder. “Have you ever ridden a motorcycle?” I shake my head no, and he crooks a smile. “I’m honored to be your first.”

I roll my eyes, and he puts his helmet on. I put mine on too before climbing on behind him. I take a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. I trust Roman, but it’s a bit nerve-racking anyway.

“Wrap your arms around me and hold on tight,” Roman says, and I instantly do as he tells me.

He leans forward and starts the motorcycle. I don’t have time to fully comprehend what’s going on before he’s driving away from the parking lot. My whole body is trembling as excitement mixes with something really close to fear. There’s so much energy under me, the engine roaring. Little by little, Roman picks up speed. I hold on to him. The heat of his body radiates through his checkered shirt and sets my skin on fire. With a surprise, I realize that after a few minutes on the motorcycle, all my thoughts about the article, about his fight, are no longer bothering me.

All I can think about is the man I have my arms around and the freedom that this ride gives me. It’s a blessing.

When Roman stops, I unwrap my arms and climb off his motorcycle. My legs are shaking so much it’s hard to stand. I take off my helmet and instantly find myself face-to-face with my favorite turquoise color. His crooked grin and amused gaze send a delicious thrill down my spine. He’s still the most handsome man in the world…and he’s mine.

“How do you feel?” he asks, reaching over and taking my hand in his.

“Good.” Roman glances at me, arching an eyebrow. “The ride was amazing.”

“Happy to hear that.” He pulls me toward a bench a few feet away. It’s perched at the top of a hill; the whole city comes into view, all city lights and dark blue sky. It’s magnificent, and I can’t take my eyes off of it as I sit beside Roman.

“I love this spot,” he says. “Found it a year ago, on a ride. I try to come here once in a while; it helps me sort out my thoughts.”

“That’s why we’re here? So you can sort out your thoughts?”

“We’re here to talk and enjoy the view.” Roman gives me a pointed look. “I think the secrets we are keeping from each other will keep biting us in the ass if we don’t get them out in the open.”

I fold my arms over my chest, not saying anything and just staring in front of me. He’s right, and I’m kinda surprised he’s not angry with me. We’ve talked about his past so many times, while I never said anything about mine except for a brief mention of my parents.

I wanted him to open up, but I never really did the same in return. It’s hypocritical.

“My mom doesn’t know I still have this motorcycle,” he says. “I told her I got rid of it.”

“Why?”

“Mom worries about me.” Roman shrugs. “She already lost one son in a car crash, so it was hard for her when I told her I got a car. She accepted it, obviously, but with my Kawasaki? That was probably the first time in my life she yelled at me. I didn’t know my mom could cuss so much.”

I chuckle. “We all curse when we’re angry.”

“Not my mom.”

“So why did you keep it? I thought you hate disappointing your mom,” I tease him, and he bursts out laughing.

“I don’t know. I don’t really have a logical explanation.” We look at each other, and I smile. “It’s probably my rebellious side taking over my responsible one. What Mom doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”

“A bad boy at his finest.”

Roman smirks at me, wraps his arm around my shoulder, and draws me closer. “Girls love bad boys, don’t they?”

“They do,” I say, meeting his gaze. “I do.”

Roman bends down and presses his lips to mine. The kiss is slow and gentle at first, but the longer it lasts, the more I want. I sink my teeth into his bottom lip, and he groans. My eyes fly open, and I move away slightly, breaking our kiss. I totally forgot about his busted lip.

“I’m so sorry, Roman. I got carried away.”

“It’s okay,” he says, pulling me tighter against his side. “Tell me about Kyle, Malyshka.”

“Kyle Edwards was a linebacker on our high school football team. A popular kid with rich parents and good looks. We started dating when I was sixteen. Not because I was in love with him—not at all—but because I was flattered that a guy like him wanted to be with me. Status meant everything to me in those days,” I mutter under my breath. “I’m not that person anymore, and I’m proud of myself for changing my life so much, but back in high school, I was stuck-up and self-centered. I was desperate for my parents’ attention, and since they didn’t give me any…I looked for it from other people. It didn’t even matter what kind of attention it was, positive or negative, I didn’t care. The more I got, the more I wanted…You wouldn’t have liked me if you’d met me back then.”

“Even though you’re my type?” Roman asks, and some of the tension loosens its grip on my body.

I give him a small smile. “My personality would’ve been a huge turnoff.”

“Then I’m glad I met this new version of you, because you’re incredible.” He kisses my temple. “What did Kyle do? I mean, I skimmed the article, but I didn’t want to make any assumptions. I wanted to hear it from you.”

“Kyle was constantly groping and harassing girls at school, but one day he took it too far. He raped a girl at one of the parties at his parents’ house. I was there too, and Kyle and I were still together at time.” I fall quiet, struggling to find the words to explain what happened. Roman turns to look at me and gently tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear, his long fingers brushing my skin softly. I lean into his touch, closing my eyes for a brief moment, just to collect myself before I finally tell him the whole story. “This girl…Lyn…she ended up committing suicide,” I whisper hoarsely. “If you read the article, you know my mom tried to make it sound like I had something to do with it. Because everyone at school thought that too, at first.”

“Why?”

“Lyn and I were both cheerleaders. We had sort of a rivalry, but she was so much better than me—more talented, more gracious. Some people thought I asked Kyle to do it because I was afraid I’d lose my spot on the team.” I hide my face in Roman’s chest. “Anyone who knew Kyle well enough would’ve never thought that. He was selfish and arrogant. He couldn’t care less about anyone except himself. We didn’t love each other and…”

“And what?”

“And he was never gentle with me,” I say quietly. “After the pictures of my bruises were displayed during trial, no one thought I had anything to do with his crimes. You don’t do that to the girl you love.”

“I want to kill him.” Roman is seething, rage dripping from his words, his posture tense.

“He’s dead. Killed himself after serving two years of a ten-year jail sentence.”

“Serves him right. Takiye urody ne zasluzhivayut zhit’⁠1,” he growls. “Your mom is fucking disgusting. Blaming you for his crimes? This is beyond me.”

“She just wanted to hurt me.”

“I think she would’ve been a great match for my father. They would suit each other well,” Roman remarks, and I snort. “The last thing he told me was, ‘Your brother is rotting in his grave while you live his life. The NHL would’ve never even looked your way if Maksim was alive.’”

“I’m glad he’s not in your life anymore. Even if that’s a terrible thing to say.”

“It’s fine.” Roman falls quiet, and we just sit, enjoying the view of San Jose under the cover of darkness. When he shifts, I turn my head to look at him, my eyes meeting his. “What about your father?”

“I stopped talking to him when I went to college. If you think he ever tried to reach out to me, you’re wrong. He was happy I took his side after we found out about my mom’s affair with his best friend, but I stayed with him when she left, and he didn’t really appreciate that. I was a burden to him, and he was happy to be rid of me when I moved out. He even bought me an apartment in my hometown to keep me from coming home. A generous gift from a loving father…”

“More like an attempt to buy his way out of being your dad.”

“Exactly,” I confirm, cuddling closer. “When I went to college, I wanted to do things differently, and Angie’s friendship helped me. She brought happiness, love, and hope into my life, and I’ll be forever grateful to her. She’s my light.”

Roman presses his lips to the top of my head, and I think I hear him say, “And you’re mine.” But it’s barely a whisper, so I push it away, because it’s probably my mind playing tricks on me.

“Want to stay a little longer?” he asks.

“Yes, please,” I say as I put my head on his shoulder.

The sounds of the city get quieter. The sky grows darker as night falls. The wind becomes chillier, but I don’t care about any of it. Because I’m here with him. Because he holds me close, and it feels like nothing will ruin this.

They say with the right person, even hell feels like home. And that’s how I know Roman is the right person…and that I’m in love with him.

1 Такие уроды не заслуживают жить. — Jerks like him don’t deserve to live.