Page 34 of Breakaway

“What happened after you left Travis?” Angie finally asks.

I close my eyes and rest my head on the back of the couch. Without looking at her, I start talking. I tell her about the hotel I stayed at, about Sam and his offer, about Roman suggesting I stay at his place while he goes to Vegas.

“Dammit, Nev.” Angie lightly slaps my forearm. “Dammit!” I open my eyes and stare at her, biting my bottom lip. “I’m so happy Roman found you in the club, that he was there and that he noticed you. I don’t even want to think about what could’ve happened if he hadn’t been there.”

“I know.”

She moves closer and hauls me to her chest, hugging me so hard my breath hitches. I wrap my arms around her, clinging to her like my life depends on it. She’s my sunlight, always guiding me through the darkness and helping me find my way whenever I feel lost. And it would be a lie to say I don’t feel lost.

I need her.

“Did you find an apartment? Or are you still staying with Roman?” she whispers.

“With Roman,” I answer, and Angie leans away. “I’ll be staying with him for a while.”

“Why?”

“Because I went to Vegas with him.” I lower my voice, holding her gaze. “We got wasted, and now we’re married.”

Angie’s eyes round into saucers. Perplexed, she gawks at me in silence. Clearing her throat, she blinks several times to get rid of her shock. “You’re married to Roman?”

“You’re what?” Drake’s voice tears us apart. Angie and I turn to see him frozen in the doorway. “You’re married to Roman? Pashkevich?”

I nod, my hands becoming clammy. “It’s an absolutely insane story, and we still don’t remember why we decided to do it. But yeah, Roman and I are married. And if Travis finds out…I can’t even imagine how much it would hurt him. I want him to move on because we’re not right for each other, not because he hates me.”

“Why don’t you get an annulment?” Drake comes closer and sits beside Angie again. “I’m sure neither you nor Roman want this marriage.”

Shifting, I cross my arms over my chest. The ache in my heart becomes stronger. I like Roman—a lot, actually—and the fact that he doesn’t like me is a bitter pill to swallow. I haven’t figuredout how to deal with it yet, and Drake’s words slice right through me, hurting me even more.

With a lift of my shoulder, I explain what happened once we went to the chapel, that we agreed to stay married until the season is over. I tell them how Roman suggested I live at his apartment, and how he told me that whenever I feel like I need a way out, we can get a divorce.

“I don’t feel obligated to stay, but…I want to help him. Plus, it works for me.” I twirl the stem of my glass between my fingers. “We’re like roommates.”

“I kinda see his reasoning.” Drake shakes his head, pulling Angie to his side. “To have all the attention on you when the season is just starting is a pain in the ass. Especially if that attention is about him getting wasted and marrying a random girl.” His eyes zip to me, and he winces. “Sorry, Nev.”

I laugh, but it comes out bitter. “You have nothing to be sorry about. Hedidmarry a random girl. One he doesn’t even like,” I blurt and look away, noticing Cooper walking into the room. I beckon him with a hand, and he comes closer, wagging his tail. “Hey, Coop. You’re such a good boy, aren’t you?”

Angie and Drake continue to stare at me, but I don’t pay them any attention. I just focus on petting the dog. I need time to collect myself. Anything to stop them from asking questions about Roman and our arrangement.

There’s something I’ll never mention to them. One more reason why I want to stay by his side and help him. Hearing him scream and cry in his sleep broke my heart.

Chapter 14

Ink on Paper

ROMAN

Tuesday passed in a blur.I barely did anything, mostly just moped around my apartment and pretended to have a life. When I woke up after only four hours of sleep, I wasn’t even surprised. I just went to the living room to watchPeaky Blinders, and once it was light enough, I hit the road. Mindlessly. Without any goal or destination. Just to feel something other than resentment and pain. Those two feelings live rent free in my head, intoxicating my mind and body. Guilt that I can’t shake off no matter how much I try resides in my heart, making it impossible to enjoy my days.

But the adrenaline rush I feel any time I ride my Kawasaki doesn’t fail me. Compared to my sleepless nights when my thoughts are consumed by heartache, the time I spend on my motorcycle is the only time I don’t think about my brother’s anniversary. The warm air around me feels like freedom, liberating me from my nightmares and depressing thoughts.

Maneuvering, staying in control of every move while also focusing on the road and everything around me. The thrill I feel when I lean into turns causes a smile to spread over my lips. The roar of the engine and the acknowledgment of the power underneath me makes my heart pound in my chest, and theblood in my veins heats up. The smells, the drop in temperature as I get close to the ocean, the sounds. I feel alive when I’m on my motorcycle…and in the offseason, I need it like I need oxygen.

Hockey is my cure. It’s the only thing that makes sense when nothing else matters. I owe everything to this sport, and I miss my time on the ice like crazy. A motorcycle ride is the closest I can get to feeling that high in the offseason. And that’s exactly why I still have my Kawasaki, even if my mom has begged me to get rid of it.

Today’s ride felt like a blessing. Getting home was like the cruelest joke; parking my motorcycle brought back all the thoughts I’d suppressed on the road.Da chto za bred?1!Is there any fucking way to make it hurt less?

“Roman!”

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