The Romantic Pact (Kings of Football)(61)

“Why not?”

Crew examines the bottom of it. “I don’t know. I thought they were meant to be decorative.”

“No, I think you can drink from them.” Not being shy at all, I walk up to the register and ask the store clerk, “Hello, I was wondering if you could drink from these?”

The elderly woman with her hair in a crown braid smiles softly and nods. “Ja. Hand wash.”

“Thank you.” I turn to Crew. “See? You can drink from them.”

“Huh.” He scratches his chin. “I wonder if I should have got the boys beer steins instead of pant-less, musical cherubs?”

I shake my head. “No way. The cherubs are so much more fun. Think about their reactions. They’re going to see they got a package from Germany, know it’s from you, and expect something like a beer stein, but instead find a cherub and a heartfelt card telling them how much the figurine reminded you of them.”

“Oh, shit, I forgot about the cards.” He chuckles. “You’re right. I just wish I could see their reactions when they open them.”

“I’m sure they’ll be the what the fuck expressions you have in your mind.”

“Especially River. Pretty sure Hutton will love it, though.”

“Hutton seems like the type who would marvel in such a present.”

Crew chuckles and picks up another beer stein, giving it a good look. “Yeah, he’s the kind of guy who will probably leave it around the house he shares with other athletes to try to freak them out.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s what I’d do too.”

He nudges my shoulder with his. “See? You two would be great friends. You don’t have to be salty about him.”

“I’m not salty about him anymore. Actually, he’s hot. Why don’t you set us up?” I ask jokingly, but the smile on Crew’s face falls.

“He’s taken.”

“I was kidding, Crew.”

“It wasn’t funny,” he says seriously, reaching out for another beer stein.

“Are you seriously mad right now?” I ask, my brows pulled together.

“Do you think my dad would like this?” he asks. “I think I want to get one for him and Uncle Paul.”

I needle him with my finger. “Hey, don’t ignore my question.”

“Do I look mad?”

“Uh, you sound mad.”

“I’m not. Just nice how quickly you’ve asked to be set up with all my friends, even though I’m standing right in front of you.”

“Whoa.” I hold my hands up. “Where’s this coming from?”

“I’m sensitive,” he says, and I see the smallest crack of a smile pass over his lips. “My man feelings can’t take the harsh dismissal of my good looks and superior charm for other men.”

I roll my eyes. “Oh my God, I really thought you were mad.”

I really thought he wanted to be considered.

Ha—of course he’s joking.

I’m not his type. Not his match. Not the kind of girl he could ever see himself with.

“I mean, it wouldn’t hurt to have my ego stroked every once in a while.” He holds up a black beer stein with the Pl?nlein carved into the cylinder.

“You get your ego stroked enough by everyone else around you. What you need from me is reality.”

“Oh yeah?” He tucks the black beer stein into the crook of his arm and picks up a matching one. “And what’s my daily dose of reality going to be today, Twigs?”

I find a green stein that has a white castle carved into it that I know Mia will love. She’s all about the fairy-tale romance. “Reality is you’re stuck in Germany with me for Christmas, and unless you want it to be an awkward Christmas, I suggest you don’t ask for your ego to be stroked.”

Wiggling his eyebrows, he asks, “Can I ask for something else to be stroked?”

I press my palm to his face and push him away. “You wish.”

He wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me into a hug. “Ah, only in my dreams, right, Haze?”

The press of his chest against my back combined with the feeling of his words dancing across the back of my neck has me catching my breath quicker than expected.

“You tell me,” I say, feeling breathless.

“Do you need help with those steins?” the store clerk asks, walking up to us, looking concerned at how Crew is holding me. Probably doesn’t want anything to break.

Crew releases me and says, “I’m going to take these. What about you, Twigs?”

I hold out the green one, trying to appear as casual as possible, even though there’s a wave of butterflies in my stomach from his touch, from his words, from the suggestion in his tone.

“Uh, this green one. Thanks.”

The clerk takes the steins from us, and I right my jacket as Crew moves past me, his arm brushing against mine as he makes his way to the glass ornaments.

I steady my breath and follow closely behind. “Look at this. It’s a pretzel.” Crew holds out an ornament, acting as if everything is normal.

“Do they have an RV? That would be a cool one for your mom.”

He sets the pretzel back on its hanger and then searches around. “No, but not sure how popular an RV ornament would be in Germany.”