Page 10 of Breakaway

ROMAN

“You sure youdon’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’tthisdrunk 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 wassoout 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 openthe 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’tthemselves. 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.”

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