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

The buzzing of my phone wakes me up. I sit up in bewilderment, squinting to my right and quickly grabbing my phone from the nightstand to silence it. It’s only nine a.m., but it’s Angie, and she wouldn’t be calling if it wasn’t important. Tossing my blanket aside, I get out of bed and glance at Roman. He’s asleep on his belly, hugging the pillow and looking incredibly cute with his disheveled hair falling into his eyes. A smile curves my lips, and I silently tiptoe to the chair beside the window.

“Hey, Angie,” I say quietly, pressing my phone to my ear.

“Hey, Nev. Did I wake you up?”

“Yeah, but it’s fine. It was time for me to get up anyway.” I slump down into the chair and pull my legs to my chest. “How are you?”

“We’re going to Paris tomorrow,” she blurts on an exhale. “I’m nervous.”

“Why?” Pinching my brows together, I bite my bottom lip. She’s been dating Drake for a year, and the guy is the epitome of a family man. He loves his niece, and he always makes time for his friend Colton’s daughter, who is his goddaughter. He’s kind, loyal, and he adores Cooper, even if he’s never really had great experiences with dogs. The guy is perfect, and I can’t think of a single reason he’d be unhappy about Angie being pregnant.

She laughs. “I don’t know.”

“Angie,” I chuckle, shaking my head. “Everything is going to be alright. You’re going to your favorite city with your favorite person, and you’re about to tell him that he’s going to be a dad. Trust me, I have a good feeling about this.”

“Thank you, Nev. I needed to hear that.”

“That’s what friends are for, honey.”

“You’re the best friend in the world,” Angie murmurs. “How are you? Any fun plans for the weekend?”

Fun plans? We’re definitely going to the Bellagio Conservatory & Botanical Garden, and probably to the casino, since Roman claimed he’s never gambled and it’s something he needs to experience at least once in his life. But other than that, who knows? When alcohol is involved, it’s hard to make any solid plans…and I’m definitely going to drink tonight.

“Not really. I’ll probably stay in”—I notice movement to my right, and a sleepy Roman sits up in his bed—“and watch something with Travis.”

His eyes zip to me the second my ex’s name leaves my mouth; he gives me a quirked eyebrow. I press my finger to my lips, asking him to stay silent. Roman shrugs and looks away, picking up his phone from the nightstand.

“A quiet weekend sounds good, especially after all the stress you’ve been under.”

“Yeah, um, Angie, I kinda need to use the bathroom. Talk to you tomorrow?”

“Of course! Love you, Nev.”

“Love you too. Don’t forget to send me pictures from France.”

“Will do,” Angie says. Then she hangs up.

I put my phone on the small table beside me and peer at Roman. He’s watching me with an unreadable expression on his face. Again.

“Angie doesn’t know you broke up with your boyfriend?” he asks, and I shake my head. “You don’t want to worry her while she’s away with Drake?” I nod in confirmation. “Ponyatno⁠1.”

Knitting my brows together, I purse my lips. “What does that mean?”

“Ponyatno? ‘I see,’” he explains, getting out of bed. “We better start moving if we want to have breakfast.”

“What do you mean by ‘I see’?”

Roman stops by the bathroom door and throws me a glance over his shoulder. “You’re a good friend, Nevaeh.” With that, he steps inside and closes the door behind him.

I sit still, fiddling with my fingers. Taking a deep breath, I quickly count to ten, stand up and saunter to the closet.

The attention to detail is astonishing. Every composition is like a work of art, carefully crafted and arranged to display manicured landscapes and floral sculptures, creating a breathtaking view. The air is filled with the sweet aromas of flowers and foliage, making me forget where I am.

I could stay here for hours and not get bored. The beauty of nature is so simple and so powerful at the same time, my head is spinning.

“You’re doing it again.” A mocking voice in my ear sends shivers down my spine. Looking up, I find Roman staring at me with a taunting smirk. “Your jaw is on the floor.”

Flipping him off, I shake my head. “It’s not my fault you can’t appreciate beauty.”

He laughs heartily, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I never said it’s not beautiful. I just don’t get why we’ve stayed here for so long.”

I take another picture on my phone and check to see how stunning the pastel pink roses look. There’s nothing more beautiful than these flowers, even if Drake’s sister, Layla, who is a florist, says that peonies are superior. I toss my phone in my purse and shoot my gaze to Roman.

“Why did you agree to come? You’ve looked bored since the moment we walked inside.”

“Bored?” He cocks an eyebrow at me, moving to his left to let an old couple walk past him. “This is my usual facial expression.”

Rolling my eyes, I head to the last composition. It reminds me of Alice in Wonderland. Dark blues, vibrant reds, and bright yellows make up the scenery. Orchids, daisies, hibiscuses, and of course roses reflect the imaginative world to a tee, making my smile grow bigger. Here and there I notice teacups, pocket watches, and top hats between the flowers, leaving no doubt that I’m right about the theme of this installation.

“Is it…Alice in Wonderland?” Roman stops by my side.

“Looks like it,” I reply, pulling out my phone to take more pictures. Once I’m done, I slip it back in my purse and turn my head to look at my companion. “So why did you agree to come?”

Roman stares at me with the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. With a shrug, he shifts a little, and his hand brushes mine. “You wanted to see it.”

I blink several times, my mouth twisting as I bite the inside of my cheek. “So we’re here just because I wanted to come?”

He nods. “I know we discussed it last night, so I was planning on it. But when I heard you lying to Angie and telling her you were spending today with your ex, I decided it would be nice to act like a boyfriend who would do anything for his girl—including coming here and pretending that I care. To make your lies more believable.”

My jaw opens; his bluntness makes my eyebrows reach my hairline. “To make my lies more believable? Are you for real?”

“How could you?” Roman presses his palm to his chest. “I’m playing the role of the perfect boyfriend, and this is what I get in return? You’re cruel.”

I purposefully trail my eyes around his body, pausing on his groin. When I meet his gaze again, I put my hands on my hips. “Perfect boyfriends give perfect orgasms. Are you up for that part too?”

His mask slips. His intense gaze bores into mine, his jawline clenching. It happens so briefly, I start thinking it was just my imagination. Then his lips morph into a cunning smile, and when he lowers his head, I know nothing good is going to leave his mouth.

“There are certain sacrifices I’m not willing to make, Malyshka,” he drawls, taking a step back. “I’ll wait for you outside.”

Watching him walk away from me, I mentally scold myself. How many times does this man need to show that he’s not interested? When will you finally get it?

Dammit. Common sense is definitely something I’m lacking lately…especially when it comes to Roman.

I need a drink.

“Dare,” I say, putting my glass down on the table. It’s my sixth cocktail…I think.

“Again?” Roman asks, dipping his head. “Fifth in a row?”

Shrugging, I scan the crowded bar we’re sitting in. It’s been hours since we left the Botanical Garden and ended up here—first we went to play slots at the casino. The only thing I can say is, today isn’t my lucky day. I’m afraid to think how much money I could’ve lost if it weren’t for Roman, who dragged me away from the machines.

Being stubborn when things don’t go my way is my curse.

“What’s my dare, Roman?” I insist again.

He runs his fingers through his hair, twirling an empty glass with his other hand, the ice cubes clinking. A sudden burst of laughter from the bar makes him turn his head. I look too, noticing a bunch of girls clearly celebrating a bachelorette party.

“Okay, I’ve got a dare for you,” Roman says, and our gazes collide. “Call your dad or mom and say you’re engaged.”

The pang in my chest is blinding. The memories of Travis’s ring and my reaction are too fresh in my head. Add in my strained relationship with my parents, and this dare is a catastrophe for my not-so-sober self. I try to keep my face emotionless, but the alcohol makes it impossible. The trembling of my lips comes first, and the tightness of my throat follows, my emotions threatening to spill over any second. I sniff, wiping away a traitorous tear with the heel of my palm.

“Nevaeh?” His voice sounds softer and closer. “Malyshka?” Gently taking my chin between his thumb and index finger, Roman tilts my face up. Worry crosses his features, wrinkling his forehead, the corners of his mouth dropping. “Chert⁠2. I’m so sorry. That dare was stupid. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“It’s okay.” I sniff louder and press my palms to my cheeks to stop the tears from spilling.

Roman’s eyes roam over my face, his jaw set hard as he studies me. His nostrils flare as he leans closer and sets his elbows on the table. “What happened between you and your ex-boyfriend? Did he not want to get married?”

He just flipped the damn switch. Uncontrollable sobs lodge in my throat, and tears stream down my face freely. Roman’s eyes round, his pupils dilating. Without any hesitation, he scoots over to me and wraps me in his arms. I hide my face in his chest, letting myself cry. The trembling of my body gradually stops, and I lean away and give him a tiny smile.

“I’m so sorry,” I hiccup.

A small smile lifts his lips. “Stop saying that. Everything is fine.” Cautiously, Roman cups my cheek, wiping away the remnants of my tears with his thumb. “What happened?”

“I’ll need another cocktail for that story.” It’s a little joke to lighten the mood, but it’s also the truth. I don’t think I can talk to him about me and Travis without alcohol.

“How about you take a second, and I’ll order us more drinks?” he says, and I rear back, hiding my face in my palms. I probably look like a total mess. “Malyshka, there’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

I wave him over to the bar and rush to the restroom the second he stands up. No one is pretty when they’re crying their eyes out, but I think I’m taking it to another level. Red and puffy eyes, black streaks of mascara on my cheeks. As I lock the bathroom door, the only thought in my mind is that at least I was smart enough to bring makeup wipes with me.

I wonder what time it is. Like, is it night already? Or just evening? I think the concept of time got totally lost the moment I downed my last cocktail. My tenth cocktail…or was it fifteenth? That Screaming Orgasm was definitely the eleventh, but then…Gah, why do I even care? I promised to never drink that much with someone I don’t really know, and Roman is…someone I don’t really know.

Stopping in my tracks, I press my palm to my forehead and stare in front of me. The city lights, all the hotels and casinos, mix into some monstrosity, making me nauseous. The music that flows freely from every street corner makes me want to close my ears. I’m so confused right now.

Where is Roman?

“Roman?” I yell, spinning around and immediately realizing it was a horrendous idea. Covering my mouth with my palm, I stand still and hope I won’t be puking my guts out somewhere on the Vegas Strip.

“Slava Bogu, ya tebya nashel⁠3.” As slowly as possible, I turn around and stare at a white T-shirt. “Nevaeh?”

Looking up, I recognize Roman.

The source of all my problems.

“Where…where…?” I slur, and he frowns, bending down to me. “Where were you?” I try again.

“Me? I’ve been trying to find you for the last twenty minutes. Why did you leave the bar without me?”

I shrug, narrowing my eyes to see him better. “You didn’t wanna participate in my exre…expermen—experiment.”

“Getting married to some random person ne eksperiment⁠4.” He shakes his head. “There are better ways to prove you’re not afraid of marriage. Your ex just wasn’t your person.”

Looking him up and down, I purse my lips. “Screw you.” I stalk past him, trying to read the names of the places I pass. Oh, another bar! Might be a good place to find myself a husband or a wife for a day.

When my hand is on the doorknob, Roman catches up to me. His big palm sneaks around my waist from behind and covers my belly. My back is pressed to his solid chest.

“Where are you going?” he whispers in my ear, his hot breath warming my already heated skin.

“To get drunk,” I slur as I twirl around to face him. “And find myself someone who will help me. A guy or a girl…doesn’t matter.”

Roman tries to hold my gaze, but his eyes constantly slip to my mouth. At least, I think they do. Or do I just wish they would?

It would’ve been so much easier if he’d agreed.

“Do it for me,” I mewl, pressing my finger to his chest and gliding it down to the waistband of his jeans. “Please.”

His hand slides down my ass, squeezing it over my dress. My breath hitches, and I feel a throb between my thighs; my panties are a mess. It really, really, really would’ve been so much easier if he’d agreed—because the way I want him is insane.

“I don’t even know if I can,” Roman growls, pulling me closer to him. “I’m from Belarus, in case you forgot.”

The silliest smile blossoms on my lips as I realize he’s slowly giving in. “Wanna drink some more? And google?” I stand on my tiptoes and whisper as if it’s the biggest secret in the world, “Google knows everything.”

Throwing his head back, Roman bursts out laughing. When he finally calms down, he looks at me and says, “Fine. Let’s go for another drink and see if I can participate in your experiment. If not—we’re going back to the hotel.”

Without thinking, I put my hand on the back of his neck and pull him into me, only to press my lips to his cheek a moment later. “Saps…Spasibo.” I smile, then tilt my head. “Is it the same in Belarusian?”

“It’s dzyakuy⁠5,” Roman states and sidesteps to let two couples walk into the bar. “Let’s go, or there will be no tables for us.”

Opening the door for me, Roman lets me go in first and then guides me to an empty table on our right. The place is crowded and loud, but I couldn’t care less about that.

Because he’s with me.

My hand is so small compared to his. It’s almost comical how his palm engulfs mine. But the smile on my lips has nothing to do with that…the feeling of his warm and calloused skin against mine makes me giddy. If only he would stop for a second, that would be wonderful, because everything spins.

“Roman, where are we going?” I slur. “Can you please stop? Please?”

He halts in his tracks, and I stagger beside him. Looking down at his phone and then raising his face to the building on our left, Roman mutters something in Russian under his breath.

“Roman?” I try again, finally drawing his attention to me. His gaze is heated, his eyebrows etched together as he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth. “What are we doing here?”

“Just like you wanted, we’re going to prove that you don’t have a fear of marriage. Prove that no one cursed you,” he exclaims. “Tvoy byvshyi prosto ne tvoy chelovek. I ty eto znaesh⁠6.”

I snort, rising onto my tiptoes and bringing my face to his. “I didn’t understand a thing…but you sound so sexy when you talk in Russian, I really don’t care.”

Letting go of my palm, he slides his hand under my hair and cups the nape of my neck. His lips hover over mine, and everything around me stops as I anticipate his kiss. I close my eyes, my poor heart thrashing against my chest, beating violently and loudly.

Suddenly, something hot presses to my forehead, and my eyes snap open. The lingering feeling of his lips on my skin makes my breath hitch in my throat. The crooked smile on his face and the mischievous glint in his turquoise eyes cause my knees to give out, and I stumble into him.

He catches me with ease, wrapping his arm around my waist. Dropping his lips to my temple for another quick peck, he turns us both toward the entrance of some building and guides us inside.

“Poydem, Malyshka⁠7. We have a lot of places to visit tonight.”

1 Понятно. — I see.

2 Чёрт. — Shit.

3 Слава Богу я тебя нашёл. — Thank God I found you.

4 Не эксперимент — Not experiment

5 Дзякуй — Thank you

6 Твой бывший просто не твой человек. И ты это знаешь. — Your ex is just not your person. And you know it.

7 Пойдём, Малышка. — Let’s go, Baby girl.