The Romantic Pact (Kings of Football)(21)

“I’m being serious, Crew,” she says, annoyed.

“Are you? Because it seems as though you’re cracking jokes to avoid the awkwardness, like you always do.”

“Fine. You don’t want the jokes? Then here’s the truth. I kissed you. I was feeling something at the moment and foolishly acted on it when I shouldn’t have. You ran away, things were uncomfortable after that, and then I never saw or heard from you again. So, yeah, I might be feeling a little weird toward you even if I’m trying to laugh it all off as nothing. Even if I’m trying to pretend everything is okay when it’s really not.” Her eyes brim with tears and she bites her lip.

Shit.

“You didn’t have to run away. You could have just said you wanted to be friends, and just friends, Crew. But pushing me out of your life, that . . . that really hurt.”

“Hazel.” My lips press together, knowing the truth is the only way to explain this, to make her not feel dejected and worth less than what she actually is. “I wanted to kiss you back.”

“What?” Her eyes grow confused.

“I did. I was shocked at first, but then I wanted to kiss you back, and that fucking terrified me. So, fight or flight kicked in, and I ran. I ran as far away as I could because I knew if I stayed around, I would have probably got lost in something I shouldn’t be getting lost in. I needed to focus, to train, to keep my head straight. Much luck that did me, given how shitty I played this season, but that was still the end goal.”

“I wasn’t trying to distract you, Crew.”

“I know.”

“It was a weird, spur-of-the-moment thing, and I regret every second of it.”

“Don’t regret it, Hazel.”

“Don’t?” She raises a brow as she drops her fork and crosses her arms over her chest. “Why wouldn’t I? I lost one of my best friends over it. You have no idea what it’s like to grow up in a small town, Crew. You have no idea the kind of reputation my mom had around town. It’s why I hung out at Pops’ farm all the time, just to get away from the talk. We didn’t have much, and my mom did anything she could to make money . . . everything. And everyone knew it, too. You were an outlet for me.”

“I had no idea,” I say, that guilt intensifying. Why didn’t Pops tell me? Probably to keep Hazel separate from her mom.

“Yes, I had friends growing up, but they all knew my dirty laundry, and they all judged me for it. I was Patricia Allen’s daughter, which meant the apple probably didn’t fall far from the tree. The looks I got, the sneers. It was suffocating at times, but then there were the summers. Every summer there was a wave of fresh air that came to the farm and it was you.”

“Hazel, I—”

“Let me finish.” She takes a deep breath. “I counted on seeing you every summer, on spending lazy Sundays on the pond with you floating on innertubes. I looked forward to driving the four-wheelers in the back woods, or racing to the house for homemade pie, or even cleaning out the pigsty with you because we always made it fun. But then you took it away. You ignored me. You stopped coming. It was . . . devastating. You made me believe that I’d ruined everything we’d built.”

“You didn’t, Hazel. I did. This is my fault.”

“Coming on this trip, I wanted it to be you who was my travel buddy. I was begging and pleading in my head for it to be you and for you to show up. Just so I could say sorry. So that I could see you and make sure that you weren’t . . . repulsed by me.”

A tear falls down her cheek, and I can’t take it anymore. I stand from my chair and pull her from her seat as well. Hand in hand, I bring her to the bed, where I sit next to her. I cup her cheek and say, “I’m not repulsed by you, not in the slightest. To be truthful, I’ve always had a mini-crush on you. I mean, you’re Hazel Allen, the girl who can toss a hay bale on a truck without breaking a sweat.”

“It’s disturbing that me heaving hay bales is a turn on.” Her voice is light with humor but there’s still sadness in her eyes.

“You know what I mean.” I shift. “But once I felt the pressure of my future, I started to have tunnel vision. Nothing else mattered to me at the time except training and making something of myself. And, fuck, do I regret that on so many levels.” I push my hand through my hair. “I hurt you. I hurt myself because I didn’t have you to talk to. And I didn’t . . .” My voice grows tight. “I didn’t give myself those last summers with Pops, too.” I let out a long sigh and place both my hands in my lap. “Fucking biggest mistake of my life so far. I can never get back that time, ever.”

Hazel’s hand falls to my back and she leans against my shoulder, giving me a soft hug.

“Will you forgive me, Haze?” I ask, my voice coming out pathetically sad.

“Only if you can learn to forgive yourself during this trip.”

“That doesn’t seem possible at this point.”

“Make it possible,” she says simply. “You know how to reach a goal. That’s evident through your football career. Maybe in order to move forward with everything else, you’re going to need to forgive yourself first.”

“When did you become so wise?”

“Oh, you know, I did grow up while we weren’t speaking.”