The Romantic Pact (Kings of Football)(58)

Hollis: Can’t get enough of us.

Crew: Yeah, sure, that’s it. *Insert eye roll*

River: What happened to making progress?

Hollis: Trying.

Crew: Speak for yourself. I think I’m making progress.

River: Yeah? Figured out what you’re going to do with the combine? Been able to find closure?

I think on it, the memories of our trip sliding through my mind. Some good, some bad.

Crew: I think I’m coming close to closure.

Hollis: That’s cool, man.

River: Seems like Germany is where you’re meant to be.

Crew: Yeah, I guess it is.

Smiling, I set my phone down and very slowly lift off the bed. When Hazel doesn’t stir, I walk quietly to the snack bag, where a container of pretzels awaits my munching.

Breath caught in my chest, not wanting to do anything to wake Hazel, I carefully lift the canister out of the bag, slowly pop open the top, reach into the canister— “What do you think you’re doing?”

Out of sheer terror, I toss the canister in the air, scattering pretzels all over the hotel room while a very unmanly squeal falls past my lips.

I spin around on my heels and catch Hazel sitting up on one elbow, staring me down.

“Jesus Christ. I thought you were asleep.”

“Yeah, right. You think I was going to fall asleep before you?” She shakes her head. “I know you, Crew Smith. I knew you were going to sneak off for some food.”

“I wasn’t sneaking off for some food. I thought I heard something in the pretzel canister. A mouse. As the bigger one in this hotel room, it’s my duty to take care of any rodents that might threaten our food supply.”

“Did you think up that lie while waiting for me to fall asleep, or come up with it on the spot?”

Succumbing to being caught, I say, “Thought of it on the spot. Impressed?”

“No. It was lame.”

“Wow, thanks,” I say sarcastically while picking up the pretzels and tossing them in the trash, because a hotel floor doesn’t really scream cleanliness.

She laughs, and even though she’s awake, it sounds sleepy. “Just keeping it real, Hollywood.”

“You’re really going to let me go to bed hungry?”

“If you’re hungry, eat something.”

I stare her down, not trusting that smirk of hers. “You’re going to think less of me.”

“You do what you think is best.”

I chuck a pretzel at her and she laughs. “You’re mean.” I finish picking up the pretzels and then climb back into bed.

“Aw, are you upset?”

“I’m hungry,” I say, pulling the covers over my bare torso.

She faces me in bed and smiles. “Then eat something.”

“No. I refuse to eat something in front of you when you have that knowing look on your face. I’d rather go to bed with hunger pangs.”

She reaches out and turns my chin toward her. “Are you really that hungry?”

“Starving.”

Hopping out of bed, she trots to the snack bag and grabs a bag of Kettle chips then brings them back to the bed. “What if I have a snack and just happen to offer you some?”

“You’d share?”

“Not much of a nighttime snacker, but I could eat something right now.”

“Then, yeah. I mean, I wouldn’t want you to snack alone. That wouldn’t be fair. I’d take one for the team and eat with you.”

She chuckles and pops open the bag. “What a knight in shining armor.” She picks up a chip and holds it out to my mouth. Without giving it a second thought, I snatch it with my teeth, and she yelps, shaking her fingers out. “You nearly bit my fingers off.”

“Careful around a beastly man like me when I’m hungry.”

She rolls her eyes and picks up a chip for herself, then she feeds me another and another. And I let her. I want her to be the one in charge of dividing up the chips.

“Who were you texting before you tried to sneak over to the snacks?”

She places a chip in my mouth and I chomp down on it. “How long were you awake?”

“The whole time.”

“Seriously? That’s some stealthy feigned sleeping.”

She casually shrugs and gives me another chip. “Pretending to sleep was a much-needed super power growing up, especially when mom brought someone home and I was on the couch. I knew it was—” She swallows hard. “It was important for Mom that I stayed quiet. So, I did. I learned how to lie so still, unmoving, that no one thought twice of me being there.”

My heart aches as I picture Hazel lying on her couch, a peaceful look on her face while she’s tormented inside.

“Jesus, that makes me physically ill just thinking about it.”

“Sorry, I was just—”

“No.” I reach out and place my hand over hers. “It makes me ill thinking of you lying there, trying to be quiet while your mom did who knows what. It makes me sad for the innocent childhood you missed out on. I wish I could have been there more for you.”

“You were there enough. You were there during the most important time of the year when I didn’t have school to distract me.”

“Well, I’m glad.”