2. Lavinia
TWO
LAVINIA
If anyone asked me yesterday what I’d be doing on my wedding day, my answer wouldn’t have been running away with Roman Maddox.
The guy I’ve known since we were kids because our fathers played for the Boston Titans at the same time.
The guy who’s made a reputation in the NHL for being a loose cannon on the ice and has earned himself the nickname The Brutalizer because of how often he gets into a fight on the ice. It’s every game.
I guess all that trumps the fact that he used to be my friend once upon a time, even though we hadn’t seen each other in years before I started dating Josh.
We’re driving around Providence, and I have to admit, being on the back of a bike is freeing. It’s freezing, but Roman isn’t speeding and he’s driving the speed limit. I can almost forget that right now, my best friend is telling all my guests and family that the wedding is off.
I don’t know how long we’ve been driving around for when Roman pulls the bike over and parks it. We’re on a main road with heavy foot traffic and people are throwing curious looks our way. The engine cuts out beneath me. I can still feel the vibrations through my body.
“Do you want ice cream?”
It’s then I notice that we’re parked in front of an ice cream store, one that boasts being founded in 1901 and being Providence’s premiere ice cream shop. I’m not sure if ice-cream is enough to make me feel better but I am not a savage. “Yeah, that’ll be great.”
Roman gets off first and when he sees the way I’m sitting—my legs bare, the dress bunched and tucked under me—he laughs. The sound is rich and deep and causes the muscles in my lower belly to tighten.
Get a grip, Lavinia! This is Roman, for crying out loud, and you’ve been left by your fiancé hours before your wedding.
How am I still capable of feeling any form of attraction to the opposite sex? My body doesn’t seem to have registered my disaster of a wedding day because it’s behaving in ways it definitely shouldn’t be.
“Stop laughing,” I tell Roman. “You try getting on a bike in heels and a dress.”
His eyes look almost gold in the sunlight.
He’s still chuckling as he grips my waist and lifts me off the bike like I am a child and not a former athlete myself.
I stumble a little when my feet land on the ground.
Roman keeps a steady hold of me. Our bodies are close together and when I breathe out, my chest brushes against his.
I take a hasty step back, smoothing out my dress and pushing my hair behind my ears. This is absolute insanity. I shouldn’t have left the resort.
Taking the helmet from me, Roman leads me into the ice cream shop. The bell over the door dings and everyone turns to look at us. I can imagine we look like a runaway bride and groom right now. Roman ignores their gazes as he leads me to a table in the back.
“Anything pistachio and if they don’t have it, vanilla?” Roman asks.
I blink up at him in surprise. He knows my ice cream order? When was the last time I ate ice cream around Roman? Not since we were children. “Yeah, as always.”
“Be right back.”
I take a seat and watch Roman walk up to the counter to order our ice creams. The college age girl behind the counter blushes as she takes his order. Same girl, same. Being around Roman can be very overwhelming. He takes our cups from her and walks over to me.
“Not that I’m not flattered you chose to run away with me,” he says, taking a bite of his ice cream, “why did you run away?”
I look at Roman out of the corner of my eye. He’s a Falcon and Josh is his captain. I think of all their other teammates and wonder if any of them will have helped me in this situation. Roman didn’t even think twice before taking me out of there.
“Josh left.”
The words are surprisingly easy to say. I feel Roman’s eyes on the side of my face, but I don’t turn to look at him. Instead, I look at the street, watching a woman walk by pushing a stroller.
“What the fuck?”
A woman sitting on the next table shoots us a nasty look. My cheeks burn as I turn to look at Roman.
“You’re going to get us kicked out of the shop! There are children here,” I hiss.
“They’re not my children,” Roman counters.
The woman gets up and moves away. Inexplicably, I feel like laughing. This man has never taken anything seriously in his life.
“Do you mind repeating what you just said?” Roman’s voice is deceptively neutral.
There’s a look in his eyes I’ve never seen on him before.
It’s almost like…anger? But, no. He’s been ignoring me for the past two years, ever since Josh introduced me to the team as his girlfriend.
Honestly, if he hadn’t told Josh that he knew me, I was thinking he didn’t recognize me at all.
“Josh left,” I say again, slowly this time. “He sent me a message saying he can’t do this. He needs time to think.”
Roman chucks his half-eaten ice-cream into the trash can that’s by the door. I watch it soar through the air and land squarely in the bin. If being a professional hockey player doesn’t work out, Roman can try the NBA.
“That motherf–”
“Roman! The children!”
Roman grinds his jaw, the muscles popping, and shoves a hand through his hair. It feels good to have someone else be angry at Josh on my behalf. I can’t muster up the anger right now. Having Roman be upset feels validating.
“What does he need to think about? He proposed. To you. What man needs to think twice before marrying Lavinia Callahan?”
I eat my ice cream, shrugging lightly. There’s a strange way he says my name. It’s not mocking. It’s almost reverent, like I’m a concept, not a person. Lavinia Callahan, the Olympic medalist and not Lavinia Callahan, a woman who’s been left at the altar.
It feels nice, even though it leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.
I eat my ice cream in silence. It’s top-tier and well deserving of being Providence’s premier ice-cream. They put chunks of pistachio and other nuts in it, and I like the crunch.
“How are you so calm?”
“What do you want me to say, Roman? That Josh is an asshole? That I hate him with every fiber of my being for doing this to me? That if I see him again, I’m probably going to punch him?”
“All of the above!”
I feel more of a connection to him than I do my ex right now. It’s that sense of connection which makes me speak up. Or maybe when I look at Roman, all I see is my childhood friend who I used to play hockey with me.
“What if it’s me?” I voice the thought which has been circling my brain since I received Josh’s message. “Do you think there’s something awful that I don’t know about myself?”
Roman watches me quietly and the longer he stays quiet, the more I think I’m right. How can’t I be? Roman also ignored me and I thought we were friends. Maybe my family doesn’t see my flaws anymore, and that’s a hard pill to swallow.