Page 42 of Breakaway

“And you’re a pessimist?” I ask the first thing that comes to mind, because the somersaults the butterflies in my stomach are doing are making me all giddy.

“I prefer the term ‘realist.’”

I roll my eyes, sit up in bed, and lean against the headboard. “A realist with pessimistic tendencies. And a sunshine girl who gives great advice to others but never follows it. We make a great team.”

“We do.” Roman sits up. Our shoulders are brushing, making my body hum in the most pleasant way possible. My skin buzzes, the heat in my lower abdomen sending goosebumps all over my body. The way I want to beg him to touch me is concerning. It’s like I can’t even trust myself when he’s around.

I turn my head to look at him. Roman squints at me, meeting my gaze and smiling gently. Something feels different. It’s likewe know something that no one else in the world knows. Like we’re the only two people who know some secret…one neither of us wants to share with others.

And I suspect that the secret is us. Here in his room, waking up in the same bed after opening up to each other a little bit. It’s the best secret I’ve ever kept.

“Ready for Ava’s birthday?” he asks in a low voice. “To meet my friends?”

“Well, I’ve met them all already, but I can’t say I’m not nervous.”

“Nervous? Why?”

“It’s silly,” I mumble, remembering Angie’s words. His friends will know our marriage is just a ruse. I don’t need to try and make them like me. It’s all temporary. Like seasons changing year after year. Once summer comes, we will be divorced.

Roman shifts a little, and I move away from him. Cradling my cheek with his warm palm, he looks me in the eyes. “Tell me.”

“I’m just worried they aren’t going to like me. They know me as Angie’s best friend, but now…now I’ll be there with you. And?—”

“If someone has a problem with you, then they have a problem with me. That’s how it works, Malyshka. And my friends already like you, so being with me won’t change their perception. Quite the opposite, actually.”

“Even if you tell them the truth?”

He looks at me, and the intensity of his deep turquoise eyes sets my body ablaze. His gaze drops to my lips, and I swear my heart stops for a second.

“Even if I tell them the truth,” he rasps, his eyes darkening. “The truth about the most precious and beautiful girl I’ve ever met, who agreed to be my wife…even if I’m the last person she would’ve ever wanted to be married to.”

Then he presses his lips to my forehead. Swiftly. Barely. But it’s still earth-shattering. It’s like tomorrow won’t come if he’s not with me, and I don’t know what to do to stop myself from feeling this way. I plaster a smile, trying to hide my infatuation with him, and how him calling me beautiful makes me feel.Kiss me, pleasehangs on the tip of my tongue, but I swallow it down along with my nerves.

“You don’t need to flatter me, Roman. All those sweet words won’t work on me anyway.” I jump to my feet. “Breakfast on you?”

He frowns slightly, confusion creeping onto his face. I pull my blanket off his bed and press it to my chest, as if creating an invisible wall between us. Blinking, Roman clears his throat and nods. “Yes. What do you feel like?”

Rounding his bed, I head to the door, throwing “Surprise me” over my shoulder. The best way to deal with our marriage is to turn it into a joke. To make fun of the situation we’ve gotten ourselves into.

Fingers crossed it will actually work.

“And why didyou need to buy this? I remember telling you I got something for Ava,” Roman says as we walk down the stairs. He’s carrying a bouquet of three books mixed with beautiful violet tulips. When I first saw it today, my jaw was on the floor, but all he did was shrug when he noticed my shocked state. He not only bought the books his friend’s wife wanted, but he also found a girl who makes book bouquets and ordered one for Ava. It was thoughtful and cute, and it made me like him even more.

“I want your friends to like me, remember?” I beam at him, pressing a big red M&Ms toy to my chest. It’s filled to the brimwith different candies, with a reading journal on top. The second I saw it yesterday at the bookstore I went to at lunch, I knew it would be perfect for Ava. “It’s just a little something. I didn’t want to show up empty-handed.”

“Did Angie tell you about the Thompsons’ love for M&Ms?”

I nod. “She mentioned that Ava and Colt are obsessed, so when I saw this and the girl at the shop told me it could be filled with anything I wanted, I knew I should get it.”

“That’s very?—”

“Roman!” A woman’s voice pierces the air, halting us in our tracks on the third floor. Turning my head, I notice the tall brunette I saw him with the other day. She strolls down the steps, her eyes laser-focused on Roman. The salacious smile on her face makes me clench my teeth.

“Claire, hey.” He nods in greeting as she lines up with us, forcing me to move a few steps down to give her room. “How are you?”

“Good,” she murmurs. “Going out for lunch with my best friend. You?”

Annoyance brews inside my chest, spilling into my veins and ruining my mood. I walk down the stairs with them following me. Shivers run down my spine, and I flex my shoulders in discomfort. This feeling is physically unpleasant. I hate it.

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