The Romantic Pact (Kings of Football)(49)

“Like the Netflix show?”

“It’s actually a book and a video game. Netflix came last.”

“Oh. I didn’t know. Is it good?”

“I mean, I’m not much of a reader so it’s taking me longer to read it, but it’s neat getting details that you don’t get from the video game or show.”

“You play the video game?” I ask. “Are you a gamer?”

“No.” He spreads mustard on his burger bun. “I play with the boys on occasion, but I spend most of my time studying for school or for football.”

“You don’t take a break?” I ask, wondering what Crew is like at school.

“I do. That’s when I’ll hang out with River or Hollis, or go out to our favorite bar. But I don’t get too caught up in video games because I know I could easily become addicted.” He sets the bun on his burger and then cuts the whole thing in half. “When you have the kind of goals that I do, there’s no room for error.”

“Oh, so your goals are more important than other people’s goals?”

“What?” He turns to me. “I didn’t say that.”

“You implied it.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“You said your goals don’t leave room for error. Do other people’s goals leave room for error?” I question him.

“Why are you trying to pick a fight with me?”

“I’m not.”

“Uh, yes, you are.” He sets his burger down and turns to completely face me. “You’re intentionally starting an argument with me. Are you trying to push me away? Is that the goal? Because there’s room for error on that, as well. You fail to realize I won’t let you.”

“I’m not trying to push you away, and if I was, I would succeed because I learned from the best.” Fuck. She looks pissed as hell.

“Oh, wow, okay.” He takes my burger out of my hand and puts it on my plate, only to push the cart away. “You want to get into this, even though I thought we’d made peace with that? Fine, get into it.”

“Get into what?”

“Whatever hostility you’re harboring toward me.”

I shake my head. “There’s no hostility.”

I reach for the cart but he stops me. “Do you want me to apologize for what happened this morning? Do you want me to say it never should have happened? Because I won’t. I fucking liked what we did, okay? I liked it too goddamn much to regret it.

Stunned, I lean back. “That’s not what—”

“Want me to apologize over and over again for how I stopped talking to you? Fine, I’ll apologize every fucking day. I’m sorry, Hazel. I shouldn’t have ever stopped talking to you. If I’ve learned anything on this trip so far, it’s how much I’ve missed you in my life. I was a fucking moron, a self-absorbed asshole. Okay? And I’ll keep admitting to that every day until you can finally, truly accept my apology.” He grips my hands. “I’m sorry. But I won’t apologize for what happened this morning or last night.”

“I don’t need you to apologize.”

“Then what do you need from me?”

“I . . . I don’t know.” I remove my hand from his and push it through my hair, trying to understand these obscure and foreign feelings rushing through me. “I don’t know what I want, Crew. I feel . . . weird.”

The anger in his expression softens. “What do you mean, ‘weird’?”

“I mean, I want to hold your hand even though I know I probably shouldn’t. I want to joke around with you, but I don’t know if things are strained between us now. I want to be able to sleep in the same bed tonight and not worry if I need to cuddle or put a pillow between us. Things are just weird and I don’t know how to handle it.”

He blows out a heavy breath. “Yeah, I don’t know how to handle it either. But I do know I want to hold your hand. I want to take pictures with you as we travel around Germany. I want to joke around and sing songs in the car and not be afraid to touch you like I always have.”

“You want things the way they’ve always been, before . . .”

“Yeah, but—” He turns away. “Hell, I don’t know, Haze.” He shakes his head, almost as if he’s trying to dismiss the thoughts in his head.

“What, Crew? Just say it. Say what’s on your mind.”

Head tilted down, he turns ever so slightly so I can catch the strain in his eyes, the torment that’s flashing through him, as if our situation is taking a serious toll on him. “I like you, Haze. But I’m afraid that type of liking you might fuck up everything we have already, and if today was any indication of that, then I don’t want things to change.”

“Are you saying you want more?” I ask, my chest filling with anticipation and nerves at the same time.

“I don’t know,” he says, looking down at his hands. “I think I’m right there with you in that I don’t know what I want, what I should do. It doesn’t seem as though passing this off as nothing is possible. Not with you, Haze.”

“I was thinking the same thing. I tried to act normal today, but it just felt weird. I found myself pulling away, not wanting to look clingy or needy.”