The Romantic Pact (Kings of Football)(75)

Yup, I’m in trouble.





“That mushroom spattle is the best thing I’ve ever eaten,” Crew says, licking his fork, and if he wasn’t sincerely enjoying the dish, I would swear he’s licking his fork on purpose, to tempt me. Note, it’s working. But I hold strong.

“It’s called mushroom spaetzle.”

“Whatever it’s called, that shit was good.” He sets his fork down and then leans back on his hands. “I still think you should have let me eat the crepe off your naked body. You know, since you didn’t get me a Christmas present, that could have been your opportunity.”

“Oh, but I did get you a Christmas present.”

“Really? When?”

“When you weren’t looking.”

“You mean when I was freezing my ass off trying to buy more coffee yesterday?”

I smile knowingly. “Maybe.”

“Way to take advantage of the situation. But seriously, Haze, you didn’t have to get me anything.”

“I know, but I wanted to.” Motioning to the tray, I ask, “Are you done with this? I can get it out of our way.”

“I can take care of it.” He stands from the bed and takes the tray to the hallway, where he sets it down and then shuts the door behind him. He rubs his hands together. “Present time.”

“Should we open up Pops’s presents first or the things we got for each other?”

“Pops’s first.” He grabs them off the dresser and sits on the bed next to me. They’re the same shape and size, and I have a general idea of what they might be.

Together we open the wrapping paper and reveal picture frames. My eyes immediately well when I see the picture inside. It’s me, Pops, and Crew sitting under our favorite oak tree, drinking lemonade and enjoying cookies. I rub my hand over the picture, remembering the years of great times we had under that tree, the crazy and terrible granddad jokes, and also the deeper, serious conversations we had, especially as we got older.

I look at Crew, and he’s holding the same picture. He glances at me and smiles softly before reaching out and pulling me close with a kiss to the top of my head. “One of my favorite places in the whole world is under that tree.”

“Mine, too,” I say, quietly. “I just can’t get over how much thought Pops put into this for us, Crew. He knew us both so well, and I now wonder if he also knew how much we valued him?”

“I think he did, Haze. After all, doesn’t that show in his attention to detail and planning? He knew we’d appreciate him and value this time because it’s from him.”

I nod. He’s right. Bernie McMann was an exceptional man. Caring and thoughtful beyond his time.

“There’s a letter to open. Shall we read it?”

I nod and Crew opens the letter. It’s a short one. “‘Merry Christmas, kiddos. This is one of my favorite pictures of all time and it means the world to me to be able to share it with you. All those times we spent under that tree. They hold a special place in my heart and I’ll never forget them. I hope you never forget either. Enjoy today, and tomorrow, you’ll be moving on to the last leg. Love you both. Pops.’”

Crew folds up the letter and quietly sets it down while staring at the picture frame. “Remember the time we decided to have a lemonade stand under the tree?”

“And Pops was trying to set up for all the apple pickers. He was dying of thirst and bought a cup from us.”

“A cup full of lemonade mixture and lemon juice and squeezed lemon, because Uncle Paul said no one likes lemonade that just tastes like water.”

I laugh. “I still have the image of Pops with his cheeks sucked in and his eyes ready to flutter out of his head from how sour it was.”

Crew joins me in a full-on belly laugh. “And he drank the whole thing. Now that’s a good grandpa.”

“And then he offered his constructive criticism and told you to never listen to your uncle Paul again.”

“Brilliant advice that I still hold to this day.” Crew sets his frame down and asks, “Did he ever give you advice that you took to heart?”

“Tons.”

“Anything in particular?” Crew asks.

I think back to this past summer when he was sick, how he was training me for I don’t know what, but he spent the summer making sure I knew everything.

“He told me to trust my gut because I knew more than I thought I did.”

“And have you trusted your gut?”

“Well, I’m here, aren’t I?” I ask.

Crew rests his hand on my thigh. “You are, and I’m really fucking glad that you are.” He leans in and I reach up, placing my hand on the back of his neck as he kisses me.

It’s not the kind of kiss that leads to more, nor is it a friendly kiss. It’s a kiss that offers comfort and support. A kiss that makes you think you have so much more time with the person kissing you, rather than a few days. A kiss that speaks of friendship, love, and knowledge, and one I’m so thankful to be part of.

His hand grips my cheek, and he parts my mouth with his tongue and I let him explore, getting lost in the feel of him, in the feel of us, and just as I’m ready for him to lean me back against the mattress, he pulls away.

“Presents.”