Chapter 11
My gaze is glued to the black screen of my phone. My chest painfully constricts any time I take a breath. This is a joke. That’s the only explanation I can find for the picture on my phone. It doesn’t make any sense, dammit!
Pressing my palms to my face, I silently scream, cursing myself. Turns out my mother was right about me. I’m a stupid girl who never thinks about the consequences of her actions, making mistake after mistake and always getting into trouble. Apparently, getting too drunk and almost being taken advantage of by Sam wasn’t enough. To top it off, I needed to go and get married to a guy who wants nothing to do with me.
Just fucking perfect.
I lower my palms from my face and scan the restaurant. It’s packed with groups of friends and a few couples; the clattering of cutlery, the clinking of glasses, laughs and chatter fill the space. Biting my bottom lip, I rap my fingers on the table. The first thing I need to do is figure out my next steps. Or maybe our next steps, since I’m clearly not alone in this.
Glancing out the window, I realize that Roman is nowhere in sight. I lean forward, almost pressing my forehead to the glass, and still nothing. Where is the damned man?
The waitress nods when I wave my hand to get her attention and ask for the bill. My foot taps a nervous rhythm on the floor as I wait for her return. My aggravation grows, not allowing me to calm down. From a state of total disbelief, I’m heading straight to extremely annoyed.
Pulling my phone out of my purse, I launch Photos again. If I took a picture of the marriage license, shouldn’t I have also taken a picture of the chapel? Of anything that would help me piece together what happened last night? I was so stunned to see the first picture, I didn’t even check to see what else there is.
I zoom in on a selfie of Roman and me in front of a wall full of flowers. By how dilated my pupils are and how glossy my stare is, I’m surprised I was still standing, let alone saying “I do.” There’s text above the flowers, the name of the place. I quickly find the address in Google Maps. It’s a twenty-minute walk from here, and it’s exactly where I’m going to go next.
As I step outside the restaurant, my gaze wanders around in hopes of seeing Roman. No luck. Well, screw him. I’m going alone then. He’s already been on my last nerve with his mood swings and how relieved he sounded when I told him nothing happened between us. I swear he makes me feel like the ugliest monster to ever walk the earth…and I’m so over it.
With my phone in hand, I stalk away from the restaurant, checking the directions as I go. So many people pass by, but I don’t pay any attention to their chatter. The thoughts swirling in my head become worse and worse with each second. My desire to cry is huge, but I push it down as far as I can. I’ll have time for that later. Now, I need to deal with this marriage thing.
“Nevaeh?”
Roman’s voice startles me for a second, and I glance over my shoulder to see him running after me. Then I remember how he walked out of the restaurant and never came back. Straightening my shoulders, I speed up and ignore his voice calling my name again.
“Nevaeh!”
Fingers curl around my elbow, halting me in my tracks. Roman stops next to me, not looking out of breath or even remotely worried. His mask is on again, and that tiny glimpse of his real emotions I saw at the restaurant is long gone.
I pull my elbow out of his grip and keep walking, not sparing him a single glance. It doesn’t seem to bother him. He just hides his hands in his pockets and follows me.
“Where are we going?” Roman asks after a few minutes of silence.
“We aren’t going anywhere,” I reply snidely. “I’m going to the chapel we went to last night. I want to fix this.”
“Fix it?”
Stopping, I glare at him. “Yes, Roman, I want to fix it. I’m not sure if you know anything about this since you’re not from here, but an annulment is possible. We were drunk as shit, with no clue what we were doing. The lack of consent because of intoxication will be easy to prove.” When he doesn’t say anything, just continues to stare at me with his deep turquoise eyes, I add, “There’s no way I’m staying married to you, of all people.”
“Me of all people? What does that mean?” He narrows his eyes. The tip of his tongue darts out of his mouth, and he moistens his bottom lip.
I shrug and take a step forward, bumping into someone’s chest. The only reason I don’t fall on my ass is because of Roman’s hand on the small of my back, steadying me. Looking up, I find myself right in front of an obviously drunk guy, who’s swaying from side to side.
“Bitch, why are you standing here? People are trying to walk,” he slurs, lowering his head to look me in the eyes. “You better be—”
It happens so fast, I don’t even notice. The guy yelps loudly as his back hits the wall, Roman holding him by his collar. “You think it’s okay to talk to a woman like that?” he asks menacingly, his voice just above a hiss. “Say you’re sorry.”
The guy’s eyes focus on Roman and then flash to me. “Sorry,” he mumbles.
“Do you forgive him?” Roman asks me, and I nod, standing as still as a statue. He takes a step back and lets go of the guy. “Molodets1. Have a nice day.”
My mouth is agape, my fingers clutching my phone as I squeeze it harder. A hand on my lower back pushes me to start moving, and when I glance to my left, all I see is an absolutely unbothered Roman.
“That was unnecessary,” I grit through my teeth, moving away from him until his hand falls off my back.
“He was rude to you.”
“And? Didn’t you see how drunk he was? That could’ve escalated into something really ugly. Sometimes it’s better to just ignore situations like that.”
Roman squints at me, meeting my gaze. “I know how to fight, and I hate when people are rude for no reason. Drunk or not, he should’ve watched his mouth.”
I puff out my cheeks, not allowing the warmth his words caused to spread over my body. It shouldn’t turn me on—not with him at least, because he’s been pretty clear where he stands, and my attraction to him is starting to remind me of a teenage crush. Unreasonable and hopeless.
“Whatever.” Sneaking a glance at my phone, I turn right at the next intersection. “It’s not like I can force you to do anything.”
“Except marry you,” Roman says with a dry laugh, and I swat him in the stomach with an open palm. “Ouch!”
“I’m pretty sure this brilliant idea would’ve never crossed my mind,” I state with conviction, keeping my chin up. It doesn’t matter how tempting it is to look at him for his reaction; I need to stay focused.
“Of course, because you never would’ve married me, of all people.”
Rolling my eyes, I mutter under my breath, “You’re twisting my words.”
“No, I’m quoting you,” he counters, stepping closer to me to let two girls in pink wigs walk past him. His forearm brushes mine, and I tighten my grip around my phone. The assault of goosebumps scattering over my skin makes me feel hot, and I pout, annoyed with my body’s reaction. “Which actually reminds me that before we were interrupted, I asked you what you meant. Why is marrying me such a terrible thing?”
Grumbling, I pivot to my right and stop under a well-groomed palm tree. I’m not risking someone bumping into me again and this caveman getting in trouble because he can’t control himself. Being called a bitch by a total stranger is the least of my concerns right now. We’re wasting time.
Roman walks over and stops in front of me, dipping his head so our eyes are level. “So?”
“Do you want to stay married?” I ask nonchalantly, trying to play it cool so he won’t see how nervous I am.
“Of course not,” he says, shaking his head.
“Then why are we talking about what I said? It doesn’t matter.” I pinch my brows together and purse my lips. “You don’t like me; you’ve made that crystal clear. Why should we—”
“You think I don’t like you?” Roman dips his head lower, until he’s all I see.
Nervously, I thread my fingers through my hair and shrug. “That’s definitely the impression you gave me.” Swallowing my nerves, I go for it, even if I hate how needy I sound. “Am I wrong?”
“You’re a beautiful girl, Nevaeh, but I’m not interested in you romantically,” he states softly, taking a step back and putting more distance between us. “I’m not interested in anyone in that way right now, in all honesty. My life is total shit, and no one should be part of that.”
Sometimes all anyone needs is a shoulder to lean on…and I think that’s exactly what Roman is looking for. Even if he doesn’t want to admit it, his actions prove it with total clarity. My presence here in Vegas is the best evidence. If only he’d let me in, even as a friend…it could change so much.
Mustering a smile, I lock my hands in front of me. “Then I really think we should get an annulment. It’s only logical. No one needs to know—because I truly can’t even imagine telling Angie that I got married in Vegas. Or, even worse, Travis finding out about it. It would break his heart.”
Something flickers behind Roman’s eyes, his gaze becoming heavier as he stares at me. “Sure. We don’t want to break your ex’s heart.”
“That was mean,” I say, poking my finger in his chest. “Travis is a good guy; he doesn’t deserve that. I’ve already hurt him too much.”
“Whatever you say.” He turns to his left and bows his head. “Shall we?”
This time, I don’t dwell on what to do. Holding my head high, I start walking again, checking the directions from time to time and not letting Roman’s presence play with my head. As soon as we figure out how to fix the mess we created, we can go our separate ways. That’s exactly what I’m going to focus on.
“Look who’s here! Roman Pashkevich, the Thunders boy. I thought I might see you again.”
A man in a white suit with short black hair blocks our way the second Roman and I step into the chapel. The fake smile on his face makes me feel uneasy, and I shift, instinctively sliding closer to Roman. “Did you two wake up and realize what you did?”
I frown, eyeing this man suspiciously. I have no idea who he is, but the way he keeps staring at Roman creeps me out. “Sorry—” I start.
“Realize what?” Roman shushes me, not only with his words, but with his arm wrapping around my waist. He pulls me into him, splaying his palm over my belly. “That my girlfriend and I got married last night?”
The man’s smile drops, confusion coloring his features. My insides freeze, and my head is spinning. What is Roman playing at?
“I was sure you wouldn’t remember a thing with how wasted you two were. The image is engraved in my brain, because I couldn’t understand how you could be so reckless three weeks before preseason starts.” The man narrows his eyes, a taunting scowl marring his face. His gaze coasts over Roman and me, his disturbing dark brown eyes sending shivers down my spine. “I’m glad I was wrong about you.”
And yet, his posture and the look on his face says the opposite.
“Yeah, me too,” Roman says, his hot breath fanning over my neck. “We’re flying home tomorrow and just wanted to know when our marriage certificate would be ready.”
“Usually in ten days.”
“Awesome, then we’ll need to plan another trip.” What? “Thank you so much for your help…”
“Emmett,” the man says, extending his hand to Roman. After the shortest handshake, the man puts his hands in his pockets. “I was your witness, actually, since you didn’t have one.”
“Thank you,” I say on an exhale, deciding to play along. All my questions can wait till we leave this chapel.
“You’re very welcome.” Emmett’s eyes roam over my face and then linger on Roman’s palm on my belly. “Look after your husband, sweetie. Our Vegas team is a strong opponent; the Thunders will need to work hard if they want to win at least once.”
I nod, feeling Roman’s body tense. He’s not the calmest person in the world. I’ve seen it on the ice, and I’ve witnessed it myself. Making a scene here? With a douche who is already after him because he plays for his rival team? It’s so not worth it.
“Bye, Emmett. It was nice to meet you,” I say sweetly, tugging on Roman’s hand on my belly. Reluctantly, he steps back and lets me pull him out of the building.
Hand in hand, we stroll away from the chapel, heading back to our hotel. Silence grows heavier between us, and it slowly becomes hard for me to breathe. I have so many questions, but I don’t even know where to start.
“I think the Bellagio fountains are starting.” His quiet murmur draws my attention. Our eyes meet, and a little smile crosses his lips. “I wanted to go when it’s dark, but…I think it might be good to stop and look now. What do you think?”
“Okay.”
Making a little detour, we turn left, and sure enough, the fountains come into view. The music is loud, and I quickly recognize the BTS song as we stop at the railing. Though my brain refuses to focus on the astounding view or the catchy music. All I can think about is Roman’s body blanketing me from behind as he puts his hands on the railing on either side of me.
“Ever since I watched Ocean’s Eleven, I’ve wanted to come here. To see this place with my own eyes. Feel the atmosphere.” Roman speaks softly behind me, and the back of my neck becomes warm. “Never in my life would I have imagined getting drunk and married along the way. It feels surreal.”
“Do you…do you not want an annulment?” I ask the question that’s been on the tip of my tongue since the moment we walked out of the chapel.
“It’s not about what I want.” He sighs, dejected. Slowly, I turn around and peer at Roman. “The man from the chapel is right, Nevaeh. Preseason starts in three weeks. The last thing I need is for it to start with news about me getting shitfaced in Vegas and getting married to someone I’m not even dating. No way Emmett will keep what he knows to himself if he somehow finds out we got an annulment. I can’t risk it…hockey is all I have.”
My heart drops, the ache in my chest growing stronger. He looks so miserable, and that tiny pause between his last words…What are you hiding, Roman? I swear, he’s like the most well-kept secret ever. One I want to discover.
But more than anything, I want to help him.
Weirdly enough, being married to him doesn’t trouble me the way Travis’s ring troubled me. With my ex, I knew I didn’t want to get married to someone who wasn’t right for me. With Roman? It doesn’t feel like that. I was agitated by his mood swings, with the realization that he didn’t reciprocate my feelings. But other than that, it feels right. As if he’s—
“I’ll totally understand if you want an annulment. It’s your life, and I don’t want to ruin it for you.”
Staring at Roman, I keep silent. The chatter, music, and noise of the busy streets fade into the background. A small smile forms on my lips, one I’m not even trying to hide. Without overthinking or dwelling on the consequences of my answer, I tell him, “You won’t. We’ll make it work. Don’t worry.”
Roman’s gaze wanders over my face, falling on my lips and lingering there for a moment. I can barely breathe, and my heart beats so loudly. Something happens between us, like the air itself becomes charged. Hot. Powerful. Intoxicating. It reminds me of the anticipation of my first kiss, when all I could think about was how it would feel to be kissed by someone I like. He cups my face with his big palms. Our eyes are glued to each other, as if communicating on their own, in a language we don’t understand. Lowering his head, he presses his lips to my forehead, his thumbs gently caressing my cheeks.
“Thank you, Nevaeh,” he whispers hoarsely, leaning away and crooking a smile.
A few heartbeats later, he twirls me around gently, so I’m facing the fountains. His arm is wrapped around my shoulder from behind when he inches toward my ear, his lips grazing my earlobe.
“Let’s forget about this whole marriage disaster for a few more minutes. We can discuss everything in our room, or at dinner.”
“Dinner sounds nice,” I say, reveling in the warmth of his embrace.
“Then dinner it is.” He chuckles and kisses the top of my head. “Enjoy the show, Malyshka.”
1 Молодец. — Well done.