Page 12 of Breakaway

My Friend’s Friend

NEVAEH

The coffee Romanmade for me is already cold, but I continue to hold the mug between my palms as if it will warm me up. Or maybe knock some sense into me. Because the things he said about what happened last night make my head spin.

How could I be so reckless? Drinking until I was almost in a blackout…what was I thinking? That my friend would take care of me? I have so many questions for myself, but I don’t know the answers. Except one. It was naivety in its purest form. Something bad could’ve happened if it wasn’t for the man sitting next to me on the couch.

“I’m not sure if a thank you will be enough,” I mutter, looking up from my lap and focusing on Roman. “But thank you for looking out for me, for taking care of my drunk ass, and for letting me sleep in your bed. Thank you.”

He smirks. “Stop thanking me. I didn’t do anything special.”

“You’re giving me a headache.” Shaking my head, I look around his living room. High ceilings and big windows fill the room with natural light, accentuating the light colors of the interior. White blends with charcoal and blue tones, making the darker elements stand out—the navy couch we’re sitting on with white plush pillows, black shelves with books and some awards,the huge TV covering most of the wall in front of the couch. It looks simple, but special details here and there, like the small wooden coffee table, are proof of a designer’s touch. I like it here.

“What are you planning to do now?” His question brings my attention back to him. Those deep turquoise eyes stare at me with such intensity, I really get the feeling he sees right through me. “I mean, yourfriendsaid you need to get your stuff out of his place.”

Prolonging the moment so I don’t have to answer him, I finish my coffee and put the empty mug on the table beside his. With a shrug, I say, “Well, it’s a good thing I took a week off from work. Otherwise, I’d have to call in sick with a hangover. I guess I probably need to get my stuff out of Sam’s place, and then I’ll book a hotel. Or call someone else to let me crash with them. Don’t worry about it. I’ll figure something out. It’s just temporary, while I look for a place of my own.”

Roman doesn’t say anything, seemingly lost in his thoughts as his fingers drum on the back of the couch. I use this little moment to study his face. A strong, chiseled jawline covered in thick blond stubble gives him a roughed-up look, just like the prominent dark circles under his eyes. I notice the paleness of his skin and how drawn-out his features are. As pathetic as it sounds, I’ve looked for him at every game I attended with Angie, admiring how handsome he is every single time. Now, he doesn’t look like someone who gets a lot of sleep, and I can’t help but wonder why.

He clears his throat, and I meet his gaze. “Last night, as I listened to Crawford talk about his plans to go to Mexico, it made me realize I want to go somewhere too. Take a little trip,” he explains slowly, raking his fingers through his hair. “I was looking at flights and hotels this morning, just before you woke up. I want to leave on Friday and come back on Monday,so if you want, you can stay here while you’re looking for an apartment. I don’t mind.”

My jaw drops, and I gape at Roman in total bewilderment. He can’t be serious. “You don’t even know me.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” He cocks an eyebrow, props his elbow on the couch, and leans his head on his fist. My mind obligingly flashes a memory from the night I met him for the first time, and it causes my heart to gallop and my palms to become sweaty. He’s still the most attractive man I’ve ever seen. “You’re my friend’s friend.”

I chuckle. “Well, yeah, but you found me at the club barely conscious.”

“Are you trying to tell me that’s normal for you?” Roman asks with an absolutely bored expression. I swear it looks like an emotionless mask; not even a single muscle on his face is moving.

“Of course not!”

“Then what’s the problem? I’ll leave tomorrow around lunch, and you’ll have my apartment to yourself for three days.”

I look away and focus on the Thunders jersey with number 24 on the back, hanging on the wall near the window. It’s not Roman’s number, and why is there an M instead of an R before his last name?

“Nevaeh?” My name leaving his lips envelopes me; it’s deep and soothing, engulfing my whole body in warmth and bringing my attention back to him. “I promise I won’t bother you if you stay. You won’t even notice me.”

I tip my head to the side, watching him in silence. With a deep breath, I say, “Thank you.”

“Does that mean you’ll stay?” Roman asks, and I nod, unable to keep myself from grinning.

His eyes sparkle, lighting up his features like little sunrays peeking through a cloudy sky. A smile lifts his full lips, mirroringmine, and I find myself enthralled by him yet again. Since we met a year ago, he’s been distant with me. I don’t remember him smiling at me or saying anything except for a little small talk when he couldn’t avoid it. I’m not even sure if he finds me attractive. Roman’s indifference is something I’m used to, so now I’m cataloging his smiling face deep in my mind so I can revisit it any time I want. Just because I like looking at him.

“So, what are you planning to do now, roommate?” he teases, making me burst out laughing. “I’ll get the guest room ready for you, but if you need my help with anything else, just ask.”

“First I need to go to Sam’s place for my stuff. And then?—”

“You’re not going to that asshole’s place alone.” Roman’s playfulness instantly disappears as he pins me with his stare. I should probably be annoyed by the commanding tone of his voice, but instead my skin heats up, and the back of my neck feels hot. I trap my bottom lip between my teeth, fidgeting in place and ignoring the fire in my lower abdomen. “I’ll go with you.”

The air between us becomes charged as I hold his gaze. The atmosphere is closing in on me, but not in an uncomfortable way. This need I feel for him is…madness.

Jumping to my feet, I barely avoid knocking my knee into the coffee table. “We can leave in twenty minutes,” I mumble and beeline to his bedroom, where I left my clothes.

Space. Lots and lots of space. That’s what I need to clear my head of this man.

“I didn’t ask before,but curiosity is clearly getting the best of me,” Roman says, glancing at me, his hand on the steering wheel of his BMW X4. In the white tee he’s wearing, his tattoos areon full display, but I force myself not to stare, remembering his reaction to my question about his SpongeBob tattoo. “How do you know this Sam guy?”

“We were friends in high school, and then we kinda lost touch until I met him at the magazine a year ago. He’s a freelancer, writes sports articles for us from time to time,” I reply, hiding my fingers in my hair and slowly threading them through it. “We ran into each other in the office yesterday, and I let it slip that I’m staying at a hotel while I look for an apartment. Sam offered to let me stay at his place, since it’s close to the office and he has a spare room…and I agreed.”

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