The Romantic Pact (Kings of Football)(89)

Hidden.

Alone.





Hazel: Landed. Should be picked up by Crew’s parents at the airport.

Mia: OMG you’re home! I can’t wait to hear all about your trip and meet Crew.

Hazel: About that. Please don’t say anything about me and Crew.

Mia: What do you mean? Did something happen?

Hazel: I think so, but I’m not sure what. I don’t think we’ll be together after he leaves New York.

Mia: What? I thought . . .

Hazel: You and me both. We can talk about it later, but please don’t bring it up. Okay?

Mia: Okay. Just know, I’m here for you. Anything you need.

Hazel: Thank you, Mia. Love you.

Mia: Love you, girl.





Chapter Sixteen





CREW





We round a familiar set of trees, and my heart pounds harder and harder as we near the farm. My parents greeted us at the airport with signs and a blow-up picture of my face, along with obnoxious cheering. You’d think they were welcoming home someone from a year-long trip. I gave them hugs, held on to a smile, and then mindlessly chatted about German food for most of the drive to the farm, Hazel chiming in on the conversation.

But I didn’t feel present.

I haven’t been present since the castle.

My heart, my soul, is still attached to those stairs, processing Pops’s letter.

His words, they dug deep under my skin.

And it has nothing to do with what he said about Hazel. He couldn’t have been more correct about that. About our connection, about needing her in my life. It’s what else he said that dug a hole in my brain and has been circulating over and over again.

What will make you happy in this life? What will bring you joy?

I know who makes me happy, that will never change. I’ve come to terms with that while in Germany. Hazel is my person, my girl. She’s who makes me happy.

But what will make me happy—that’s the question that’s churning my gut and making me second-guess everything I thought about my future.

Growing up, Pops and I talked endlessly about playing football professionally, how if I put my mind to it, I’d go the distance.

In high school, I was named “Most Likely to Succeed.”

I received a full-ride scholarship for football.

I was named All-American.

Going into my senior year, I had the best stats in our conference.

Everything was leading up to the combine, to me moving on to the next level.

I ticked off the checkboxes. I made the right choices. I put in the hours.

So why does it feel so empty?

“Here we are,” Dad says, pulling the rental car into the long driveway. The farmhouse is lit up on the inside, and the porch lights, as well. Uncle Paul’s car is in the driveway, as well as another car I don’t recognize.

Dad parks, and Uncle Paul comes racing out of the house and stumbles down the porch stairs, biffing it into the grass.

Mom laughs at her brother while Dad says, “The man has never been graceful.”

Uncle Paul stands proudly, brushes off his pants and shoulders, and then limps toward the car as Dad parks. He opens my door and greets me with a big hug. “Look at you, you handsome piece of meat.”

“Don’t call my son meat,” Mom says.

“Hey, Uncle Paul. Are you okay?”

“Yes, just some old floorboard trying to make a fool out of me.”

From the front, Mom says, “You make a fool of yourself just fine without the floorboard.”

Uncle Paul snaps his attention to Mom. “The tension is already high, Marley. We don’t need your jabs.”

My brow furls. “Why is the tension high?”

“We haven’t told them yet,” Mom says in an annoyed tone.

“Told us what?” Hazel asks, looking concerned.

“Let’s all get in the house and then we can talk,” Dad says, exiting the vehicle and checking on Uncle Paul.

Just like me and Hazel, Dad and Uncle Paul were childhood friends, but neighbors. Dad was and still is best friends with Uncle Paul, and Mom had a crush on him—as Dad likes to say—for a very long time. But Mom will tell you differently. From the way Mom looks at Dad, I’m going to take Dad’s word for it. They reunited on a road trip across Route 66—the Mother Road, to be exact. It was supposed to be one last road trip before Uncle Paul got married to Aunt Savannah, and Dad tagged along. They didn’t get into the details, but what I do know is that Pops, Dad, and Uncle Paul did not make the trip easy for Mom, the only girl on the trip, and in the end, Mom and Dad ended up together, and they built Dad’s soap brand into the multi-million-dollar business that it is now.

And that’s one of the things I’ve wrestled with during the flight home. Hazel and I reunited on our road trip, but what can we do that invests together in our future?

Many years ago, we made a romantic pact to never fall in love with each other, and now I’m beginning to see why. Our lives no longer naturally converge. We’re not neighbors. We don’t have a fledgling business to build together. So, although it’s easy to love Hazel, to want her forever, is it really possible? Or was that pact wise beyond our years?

Despite what Pops said we had.

Despite how my heart is now breaking.