The Romantic Pact (Kings of Football)(85)

A deep, hearty laugh falls past his lips. The sound puts a smile on my face because he almost sounds like Pops. There’s a hint of the same cadence, which I love.

“Seriously, though, what has been your favorite part?”

“Hmm, that’s hard. There have been so many great moments.” I give it some thought, and I do have some moments that stick out in my mind, ones that remain so vivid in my memory it’s as if they’re laid out in front of me. “Can I have two categories of moments?”

“What are the categories?”

“Germany . . . and us.”

I see his lips turn up before saying, “I like that. Approved. What’s your favorite Germany memory?”

“Excluding today, because today might eclipse my favorite Germany moment, keep that in mind.”

“That’s fair to the castle.”

“So far my favorite Germany moment has been drinking in Nuremberg and walking around the Christmas market. It just felt magical. Everything about it. The lights, the music, the wine, the company. It felt like a dream, and it’s a moment I’d happily revisit over and over.”

“That was fun. And the wine led to some fun things, too.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

“You’re such a doof.”

He chuckles. “Not even sorry about it. Okay, what’s your favorite memory of us?”

“That’s an easy one for me.” Pushing past feeling shy and knowing that we’re open and honest with each other at this point, I say, “The moment you wake up in the morning. Your eyes are still sleepy, your hair is messy, but you always have a lopsided smile on your face when you see me, followed by a deep, almost gravelly ‘good morning.’ I think I’ll miss that the most.”

I know I’ll miss it. Waking up next to him, feeling his strong arm wrap around my waist and pull me against his warm chest. His lips traveling over my neck and down my shoulder. I’m going to miss it so much.

“I’ll miss seeing you in the morning, too, Haze. But we’ll figure it out, okay?”

I nod, knowing he’s made me that promise over and over again. We’ll figure it out. Somehow, someway, we’ll figure it out.

“What are your favorite moments?” I ask. “Germany and us.”

“Germany—probably when you kept poking me in the dick with the fencing foil.”

“That was your favorite part?” I laugh.

“Yeah, you were unfiltered, happy, proud of yourself, and I loved that. I also like that your hand was a magnet to my dick.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

He rests his hand on my thigh and keeps it there. The hold is possessive. Something I’ve seen in movies, on TV shows, but never experienced myself. I was never involved with someone enough to have this kind of intimacy, and it might seem inconsequential, but it’s not to me. Crew is claiming me. Even when we’re alone, he’s letting me know I’m his and he’s mine.

“Maybe, but it still was one of my favorite moments. And then an ‘us’ moment—well, I think it’s obvious.”

“If you say the dry humping, I’m going to put on a chastity belt tonight.”

He laughs out loud and shakes his head. “As much as I love the messiness of coming in my pants, that wasn’t my favorite ‘us’ moment.”

“Then what was it?”

“The moment I saw you on the airplane.”

“Really?” I ask, surprised. And swoon. That’s one of the nicest things he’s said to me.

“Yes, really. I didn’t think I deserved to see you again, but it was as if Pops was giving me a second chance. I had a shitty summer, a shitty semester. And seeing you on the plane—it was a gift I didn’t deserve. It was as if Pops knew exactly what I needed, and he delivered.”

Tears well in my eyes again, and I swear I’m never this emotional. Apparently, it’s my job to cry on this trip. Over and over again.

“Don’t cry, Haze.”

“Trying not to.” I take a deep breath and will the tears away. “This trip has just been life-changing, on many levels, and I get overwhelmed. I just feel as if everything is going to come to a crashing halt when we get to New York.”

“I know you do, but please know that it’s my heart’s desire that it doesn’t. Let’s attempt to put all our thoughts into our last day, though. Another day to be surrounded by unimaginable history and awesome scenery. Just you and me.”

I press my hand on top of his. “You and me.”





Breathtaking.

It’s the only way to describe the scene in front of us.

On top of what feels like a mountain, nestled into the Alpine Foothills and against a beautiful backdrop of snow is a fairy-tale castle.

White limestone walls, blue-roofed turrets with Rapunzel-like windows—the castle screams romanticism, and is the perfect grand finale to a remarkable trip through Germany.

“Wow,” I say, staring up at the awe-inspiring building.

“Pops was right. He saved the best for last.” Crew takes my hand. “Shall we start walking up to the base of the castle?”

I nod. “That’s where we’re supposed to read the last letter.”

The driveway is steep, but thankfully the sun is out, the stone is clear of snow and ice, and it’s not as cold as it has been on the previous days—meaning Crew isn’t freezing his cute ass off.