Page 17 of Breakaway

“I better go to Layla’s then. Your last sleepover traumatized me.” Drake’s voice reaches my ears. “Who in their right mind watches all of theHigh School Musicalmovies to feel better?”

“Your girlfriend,” Angie deadpans, making me burst out laughing.

“Touché,” Drake says.

I turn my head and notice Roman walking toward me with two cups of coffee. “Okay, lovebirds, I gotta go. Have an amazing day. Love you both.”

“Love you too, Nev. Tell Travis we said hi.”

“Will do. Bye, Angie.” I end the call just as Roman joins me.

He extends a cup to me, and once I take it, he lowers himself across from me on the couch. “Thank you,” I tell him, and he shrugs.

If someone asked me what I was doing here with this guy, the only answer I could give would be I don’t know. My plan for the weekend was simple: find an apartment, hopefully sign a lease, and then throw myself a pity party. Ice cream and movies. Easy and predictable. What better way to cheer myself up than ice cream? What better way to forget about my own problems than lose myself in the worlds of fictional characters?

Apparently, going to Vegas with a guy I barely know.

Roman sips his coffee, his elbow set on the back of the couch, his cheek resting on his fist. His white tee has ridden up, revealing a line of sun-kissed skin and delicious-looking abs. My eyes traitorously zero in on it, and a warmth that has nothing to do with the hot cup in my hand spreads through my whole body. He’s a guy I barely know…a guy I’m insanely attracted to, and it scares me to death. Because I don’t think he likes me at all.

“How is Benson?” The question makes me stop staring at his abs and brings my eyes to his. He’s no longer sporting his thick stubble, and his clean-shaven face looks boyish. The turquoise color of his eyes now holds a darker shade of navy blue, reminding me of the sky on the edge of a storm. A great contrast to his soft features. Only his jawline and cheekbones stand out with how refined they are.

“Good. He and Angie are enjoying their time in France. She is obsessed with that country, and Paris in particular.”

“Yeah, Drake mentioned that once or twice. He said it’s a special place for her.” Roman gives me a quick smile and takes another sip of his coffee. “I’m not surprised that’s where he took her.”

Bringing my cup to my lips, I mull over his words. With a tilt of my head, I narrow my eyes. “What does that mean?”

With one eyebrow raised, the corner of his mouth quirks up. “You need to be a bit more specific.”

“The way you said that…about Drake taking her to France. Do you know something?”

Deep, honeyed laughter bursts out of his lips, and his eyes crinkle with playfulness. “Malyshka, English isn’t my second language. There’s no hidden meaning behind my words. Angie loves France, and her boyfriend took her there for a vacation. That’s all.”

I continue to stare at him, as if expecting him to crack and start telling me his secrets, knowing perfectly well he won’t. This guy has the best poker face. Like last night, as he was watchingPeaky Blinders, I couldn’t get a read on him. He looked detached, his face expressionless.

The day he lets his mask slip will be the day I finally know who Roman Pashkevich really is. If that ever happens.

“What are you working on?”I glance at Roman, who sits on my left near the window. The moment it was allowed, I pulled out my laptop and continued writing the article I didn’t finish last night. We had about thirty minutes left in our flight when I typed the final words.

“An article about the best places to go with your partner if you want a change in routine. You know, instead of restaurants and bars.”

“May I?” He cocks an eyebrow, extending his hand. My gaze drops to his outstretched palm, then back to his face. He looks genuinely interested, as if he really wants to know what I wrote. “I kinda peeked a few times, but I think reading the whole thing will be more interesting. Plus, I’m curious.”

Fighting a smile that forces its way onto my lips, I push my laptop into his hand. Roman takes it and starts reading my article. I keep my eyes on the seat in front of me. It’s never been easy to watch someone reading my work.

Roman hums, drawing my attention to him at once.

“Hmm?” I echo, frowning. He meets my eyes, and his lips suddenly break into the most handsome smile. For some stupid reason, it agitates me. I snatch my laptop back and close it, stuffing it into my backpack. “I should’ve known you wouldn’t like it.”

“Nevaeh.” His low murmur slides under my skin, causing heat to creep onto my cheeks and the back of my neck. It happens so quickly, it’s like he flipped a switch.

“What?” I ask, my voice louder than I intend. “Your ‘hmm’ was very telling.”

“First, I need you to stop making assumptions about my words. Second, your article is really good. It’s witty, smart, and entertaining.” My jaw drops, and I continue to gape at him in silence. “My ‘hmm’ was only for one reason—I didn’t see any sports-related activities mentioned.”

Turning to him, I fold my arms over my chest. “Elaborate.”

“Well, art exhibitions and museums are great. It’s educational, entertaining, and sometimes awe-inspiring when you just stare at something and can’t look away because it’s so perfect,” Roman explains. “Concerts? Might be loud, but at thesame time you can bond over the songs you both love, or just dance together, which is a huge plus. Movies? Clearly a great date; everybody knows that. Escape rooms? A bit extreme if you ask me, but you’ll need to work as a team, which is a great test for a relationship, to see if you have a future together.”

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