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

“You sure you don’t need my help?” Crawford asks, his gaze zipping to Nevaeh. She stands with her back pressed to the wall, her eyes shut and her head hanging low. My hand on her shoulder is the only reason she hasn’t fallen on her face yet.

“Absolutely. This isn’t the first time I’ve brought her home,” I mutter, noticing his eyes widen. “Though she wasn’t this drunk last time.”

“She’s hammered, man,” he comments, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’ve met her a few times with Angie, and when she was at Drake’s birthday, with her boyfriend. We never really spoke much with each other, but I definitely didn’t think I’d ever see her like this. Why drink so much if you can’t hold your liquor?”

“Have you never blacked out?” I ask, getting aggravated by the judgment in his voice.

“No. You?” Arching an eyebrow, I hold Crawford’s gaze instead of answering. He snorts, shaking his head. “Shouldn’t have asked. How old were you the first time you drank?”

I glance over his shoulder, noticing an Uber pulling up. “Fourteen,” I reply absentmindedly. “My friends convinced me to try vodka.”

“Vodka?” Crawford bellows. His jaw hangs open. “You tried vodka at fourteen?”

Rolling my eyes, I wrap my arm around Nevaeh’s waist and pull her to my side. With a shrug, I meet my teammate’s gaze. “I was so out of it when my friend brought me home, my mom literally hauled me inside by the hood of my jacket. Never drank vodka again.” I take Nevaeh in my arms, round him, and head to the car. Crawford follows, staying beside me. We stop by the car, and he opens the door for me, helping me get her into the backseat. “Thank you, Dean. Sorry for leaving you like this.”

“It’s fine; I understand. Good thing you noticed her. In the state she’s in, who knows what could’ve happened.” We shake hands, and I move to sit in front. “Do you know where she lives?”

“The guy she was with said Nevaeh was staying with him. So, with that option out, I’ll take her to my place.” I open the car door. “Hopefully, she won’t freak out when she wakes up.”

Crawford’s lips curl into a big smile. “That sounds like a fun morning for you.”

“Fuck off,” I laugh and climb inside the car. “Bye, Dean.”

“Bye, Roman.”

I exchange pleasantries with the driver, then pull out my phone and spend the rest of the ride playing Archero and listening to the quiet snoring coming from the backseat.

I open the door of my apartment and slowly walk inside with Nevaeh in my arms. She’s still asleep, and I hope she stays like this till morning. The last thing I need is to deal with her in a drunken stupor. I have no idea how she’s going to react when she realizes she’s at my place.

We aren’t friends, just acquaintances. When I met her a year ago, I thought she was stunning, but I also knew she wasn’t single. Hitting on women with boyfriends is a line I won’t cross, no matter how attracted I feel. And with her…my attraction was through the roof.

“Wh-where…am I?” Nevaeh’s voice cuts through the quiet like a knife, and I look down at her. Her eyes are half open, and there’s a deep wrinkle between her eyebrows as she surveys my place. “Where is Sam?”

I lick my lips as I sit her on the couch. Stepping back, I hide my hands behind my back and tower over her. My heart suddenly picks up its pace, beating violently against my rib cage. My palms become clammy. She tucks her hair behind her ears, and her lips purse into a slight pout.

“Where is Sam?” She repeats her question and finally focuses on me. Her eyes slowly travel from my legs up to my face; the moment our gazes meet, she gasps. “You!”

It’s the second time she’s said that instead of my name. With a sigh, I crouch in front of her, my hands on my knees. “It’s Roman. You remember me? I’m Drake’s teammate.”

Nevaeh jerks away from me, hugging herself tightly. “Where is Sam?”

“Is Sam the guy with curly, shoulder-length hair?” She nods, her eyes glued to my face. “He said you would need to get your stuff tomorrow. He left you with me.”

I don’t say anything else, because I’m sure in her state she would barely understand the gravity of the situation she was in. Her “friend” was taking advantage of her. I wouldn’t be surprised if this Sam guy was encouraging her to drink more, to drown her problems in alcohol so he could get her to do whatever he wanted. It’s so much easier to manipulate someone when alcohol impairs their judgment and they aren’t themselves. Like taking candy from a kid and making them believe they wanted to give it to you.

“Why would he do that?” Nevaeh sobs, tears streaming down her face. “Why did you bring me here? Where am I?”

“Shh, Nevaeh, everything is fine. You’re safe. I just want to help you,” I reassure her. My palms are burning on my knees. The need to haul her to my chest and calm her down is overwhelming, but I resist it. “You can stay here and leave tomorrow morning. It’s not a problem at all. You’re not bothering me.”

She hiccups, wiping her eyes with her palms. Her shoulders tremble, and quiet whimpers leave her lips as she sobs. Suddenly, she clamps her hand over her mouth, and her eyes go wide. “I think I’m going to puke.”

Blyat’⁠1.

Jumping to my feet, I grab her hand and pull her up. Hurriedly, I tug her to my bathroom, turning on the lights as we go. She kneels in front of the toilet and empties her stomach almost immediately. Taking a deep breath, I go get her a glass of water and sit by her side, gently collecting her hair and holding it back for her.

“That’s right. Let it all out,” I murmur, trying to distract myself from the sounds by running my hand up and down her back. “Don’t hold back.”

I don’t know how long we stay like this on the floor, but when she turns to look at me, a wave of overwhelming sadness breaks over me. All the color is drained from her face. Her ruined makeup is smudged over her cheeks and under her puffy eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Nevaeh whispers, sniffing.

“That’s okay. You feel better now?” She nods, and I give her a reassuring smile. Then I hold out the glass of water I brought, and she downs it in what seems like one gulp. Standing up, I pull her to her feet too. “Let’s get you to bed. You can sleep in my room, and I’ll take the couch.”

“But—”

“Shh.” I flush the toilet and turn her toward the door. To my relief, she doesn’t try to argue with me, just follows my lead. Her small hand rests in mine, and an unexpected warmth coats my palm where our skin is touching.

We stop by the bed, and I let go of her hand and head to my walk-in closet. Grabbing a T-shirt from the shelf, I turn around and return to the bedroom, halting in my tracks when I get there. Nevaeh is already lying on her right side at the very edge of the bed, her hands hidden under the pillow. I smirk, padding closer and noticing her legs dangling from the bed. Putting my tee on the nightstand, I bend down and slowly take off her heels. She pulls her legs to her stomach, curling into a little ball.

Without thinking, I reach out and push her hair off her face. Her eyelashes tremble, but her eyes stay closed. I smile as I cover her with my blanket. Moving as quietly as possible, I get a pillow and a spare blanket from the closet and walk out of the bedroom, closing the door behind me with a muffled sound. I could go sleep in my guest room, but it would take time to make the bed, so the couch sounds a thousand times more appealing. Besides, it’s just for one night.

After I finally settle in on the couch, I’m wide awake. Tonight did not go the way I expected. Instead of a hot girl riding my dick, I have a girl peacefully sleeping in my bed while I’m alone in the living room.

I’m broken, and I don’t see a way to fix it, but I think I recognized myself in Nevaeh tonight. Drinking my ass off just to forget, just to stop caring. Doing absolutely anything to take my mind off the things that are bothering me.

I don’t know what happened to her, and I’m not going to pry if she doesn’t want to talk about it. But if she’ll let me, I’d like to help her. Focusing on someone else’s problems offers a welcome break from my own terrors, and I swear I need it.

Her unexpected company could be exactly what I need to keep me from losing it.

“Oh my God! Why are you awake?” Nevaeh’s high-pitched voice draws my attention to her. She stands in the doorframe, covering her face with her hands.

“It’s eleven o’clock,” I say pointedly, my eyes roaming over her figure. She’s no longer in her dress. My white tee covers her perfectly, hanging just below her ass. Forcing myself not to stare, I focus on her face. “How did you sleep?”

“Good,” she mutters, peeking at me through her spread-out fingers. “Can we talk after I get cleaned up? I think I embarrassed myself enough in front of you last night.”

“Sure. The bathroom is over there.” I point to the door on her left.

She nods and dashes to the bathroom without another word. Once she’s almost inside, I call out to her, “Are you hungry?”

Our eyes meet as Nevaeh glances at me over her shoulder. “Yes.” With a thud, the door closes, and I’m alone again, sitting on the couch with a wide grin on my face. I have no idea where this good mood is coming from, but I’m going to enjoy every second.

“It’s not much, but I hope you like fried eggs with bacon and salad.” I put the plate of steaming hot food in front of Nevaeh. She looks up at me with a hesitant grin on her lips.

“I’m so hungry, I think I’d eat anything. And this”—she pulls the plate closer to her and takes a fork in her hand—“looks delicious.”

I lower myself into the chair across from her and silently dig into my food. Nevaeh does the same, and for a moment the kitchen is filled with only the rhythmic clatter of our forks against our plates, the subtle sounds of chewing, and the occasional clink of glasses as we put them back on the table after taking a sip. When I’m done with my food, I push away my plate and relax back against my chair. Nevaeh finishes at the same time, but unlike me, her posture becomes tense. Avoiding eye contact, her gaze wanders over the kitchen as she raps her fingers on the table.

“Do you want coffee?” I ask, breaking the silence. She meets my eyes for a second and nods. “Good. How about you wait for it in the living room?”

“Okay.” Nevaeh gets up and takes her plate from the table.

“You can put it in the dishwasher. I’ll run it later,” I tell her, and she does as I say. With a discreet glance in my direction, she saunters to the living room and sits on the couch, hiding her legs under her butt.

After a few minutes, I stop in front of her with a mug of steaming hot coffee. Nevaeh takes it with a grateful smile and lifts it to her lips. I plop down on the couch beside her, keeping a good distance between us. I don’t want her to think that I expect anything from her for my help.

We sit in silence, drinking coffee and not looking at each other. As weird as it probably sounds, I feel comfortable. It doesn’t bother me for even a second that she doesn’t talk. The atmosphere in the room is light and pleasant, making me breathe easily.

A deep sigh comes from my right, and I turn my head to peer at Nevaeh. She holds her mug between her palms, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth. Looking up, she meets my gaze. Her deep blue eyes framed by thick lashes bore into me, and a tinge of pink covers her cheeks.

“What happened last night?” she asks, her voice shaking.

Half turning to her, I sit more comfortably and tell her everything I know.

1 Блять (cuss word). — Fuck.