Page 23 of Breakaway

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 personne eksperiment?4.” 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’sdzyakuy?5,” 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 sosmall 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 afear of marriage. Prove that no one cursed you,” he exclaims. “Tvoy byvshyi prosto ne tvoy chelovek. I ty eto znaesh?6.”

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.

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