I hold it close to my chest. “I love it so much, Crew.” I wipe at my tears. “Thank you. This means a lot to me.” I reach up and grip his jaw, bringing his mouth to mine. “Thank you, Crew.”
“Of course.” He gives me another kiss and all I want to do now is get lost in these lips, in this man. “Now, where’s my gift?”
Oh yeah.
“Uh, mine isn’t as thoughtful as this. I thought maybe you got me something creepy like one of the cherubs, even though I know you said you didn’t.”
He laughs. “I would cherish one of those cherubs. I’m sure whatever you got me, I’ll love.”
Standing from the bed, I walk over to my backpack, pull out the souvenir bag, and hand it to him.
“It’s actually pretty stupid now that I think about it.”
“Stop.” He pulls me onto his lap and wraps his arms around me. He takes the inexpensive keychain I got him out of the bag. It’s a metal replica of a tiny beer stein with “The Romantic Road” written across it in script. Really simple, but I thought it was something that could remind him of these past few days while he’s doing whatever happens in his future.
“It’s so that you’ll always remember this trip. Remember me.”
“Hazel.” He turns me toward him so I catch the crease in his brow. “I’m not going to forget about you. Or this trip, for that matter.”
“Just in case. Whenever you drive around, you can think about how we drove around Germany that one time during Christmas and almost got caught in a snowstorm.”
He smiles and rests his hand on my thigh. “Thank you, Hazel. I love it.”
* * *
“You’re really testing my manhood, aren’t you?” Crew asks, zipping up his coat.
“You act as if you’ve never seen snow before.” I walk next to him, putting my hat on my head.
“I’ve been in snow before, but I’ve never enjoyed it.”
“Then you haven’t been doing it right,” I say as we reach the hotel doors. I reach over and take his gloved hand in mine and lead him outside, and man, does the cold hit us.
“Fuck.” He turns to walk back into the hotel, but I tug on his hand and gesture toward the empty town.
“Stop it. Come on, when can we ever say we had an entire German town to ourselves?”
After another round of sex, because that was the deal after all, we watched A Christmas Story, both of us drifting in and out of sleep. Once we’d shared a small lunch, because we were still full from breakfast, I told Crew we had to go outside and enjoy the white Christmas we’d been blessed with.
It took a lot of convincing, and I mean a lot—my boobs were involved at one point—but here we are. We borrowed some snow boots from the hotel, though they didn’t have any big enough for Crew’s freakishly large American feet, and we set off to explore.
“There’s a foot of snow on the ground and you’re making me traipse around in boots that are too small. My feet are getting wet.”
I pause and look back at him. “Are you going to complain the whole time? Because if so, I’m going to explore on my own.”
“Hey, sass,” he teases. “Just give me a second to adjust my Californian bones.” He shakes out his limbs and then plasters on a large smile. “Okay, ready.”
“Good.”
Together, hand in hand, we walk down the road, admiring the particular characteristics of Germany. The houses that look like something out of Snow White, the signature red-orange roofs, the stone architecture—it’s all so charming, like walking through a real-life fairy tale.
“While you were getting ready, I read about the town,” Crew says. “I was curious since Nördlingen has a wall around it, and I wanted to read up on it.”
“Are you going to delight me with some facts?”
“Only if you want them.”
“I want everything you can offer me,” I say, with a wiggle of my brow.
His eyes narrow, humor pulling at his lips. “Be careful what you say, Twigs.” We make a right turn, not minding where we’re going, just getting lost in the snow-covered town. “If you were to look at the town from an aerial view, you’d see that it’s actually a big circle, and that’s because fifteen million years ago, a meteor struck the Earth here and changed the soil. When people began to settle here, the settlers thought it was the perfect shape to offer protection, not knowing what lay beneath.”
“The meteor?” I ask, getting into the story.
“Well, no. They didn’t realize that they built a town on a gold mine, or diamond mine, if you will.”
“What? This town is built on diamonds?”
“Seventy-two thousand tons of diamonds, to be exact.”
“What?” I ask, my eyes now searching every building. “Are you serious?”
Crew nods. “The buildings and streets are embedded with microscopic diamonds. Some might say this could be one of the richest towns in Germany, and yet, they don’t have access to any of the riches.”
“Wow, that’s crazy. Man, if I lived here, I’d find a way to gather those diamonds.”
“Nah, you wouldn’t.” Crew wraps his arm around my shoulder. “You’re too loyal. You’d just brag to anyone who came to visit that you paid way less for your house than its actually worth.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right.”
“I am. I know you, Hazel. You’re not the kind of person who would sell out.”
“No, I’m not.”
Crew is silent for a second, and then he asks, “So, what’s happening with the farm?”
“I don’t know. Things have been in limbo. Something about Pops’s lawyer not being available. I’m really unsure. I know there’ve been investors from the city who have been interested in the land.”
“What? Really? I didn’t know that.”
“I tend not to mention it because if I think about it, I get too sick. They want the land for an outlet mall. Pops has been adamant about not selling. They also want to connect a highway, and the farm is in the way. Big-city people have been sniffing around for a while.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t want to believe it,” I say. “I didn’t want to think of it as an option. I mean, what if Pops left the farm to your mom and dad? Their life is in California, their business is there, and they can’t just pick up and move. And I love your uncle Paul, but he has no idea what to do when it comes to the farm. He’s so far removed that I think he’d be overwhelmed. I know Pops met with some investors this past summer, but I’ve no idea how that went.” I try not to tear up, but my eyes still become damp. “I don’t know what I’d do, to be honest. I haven’t been very smart regarding my future, because I thought I’d work at the farm my whole life, for some reason. I have no higher education on my resume, and there aren’t a lot of thriving farms in Upstate New York looking for a farmhand my size.”
“Hey, you can haul bales just like the rest of the guys, if not better.”
“You know what I mean. I just don’t have a lot to offer other than what I’m doing, and that scares me.”
Crew kisses the top of my head. “I want you to know you have so much more to offer than you think, but I know the feeling. If football doesn’t work out, I’m not really sure what I’m going to do.”
“Do you want football to work out?” I ask, my pulse picking up. This is a subject I do and do not want to address, because it makes the future that much closer. And I like where I am right now—with Crew.
“It’s all I’ve ever dreamed of—playing on the big stage. If it doesn’t happen, I’m not sure what’s left for me to do.”
I nod and try to keep my voice level. “So, what happens if you do well at the combine?”
“Well, if I perform—when we get back, I have to hit the gym and the field hard to prepare, because I’ll have just over a month to get myself ready—then I’ll enter myself in the draft. From there, I just wait to see if a team picks me up. Last year, I was a top-ten prospect. After this year, though, not s
ure where I rank. It’s all up in the air.”
“So then, let’s say you’re drafted—then what?”
“Then I go to wherever football takes me.”
“Do you have a preference?”
“Yeah.” He laughs. “Somewhere warm.”
I try to chuckle, but it comes out forced, and he notices.
“You okay?”
“Yeah,” I lie. “My lips are getting cold.”
“And here I thought I was the one complaining.” He turns me toward him and lifts my chin. “Let me warm them up for you.”
As he lowers his mouth to mine, I realize that the sadness eclipsing my joy is because he never mentioned me while talking about his future. Not that he needed to, but it just makes me believe that while my whole heart is in this, his isn’t. That’s something I need to come to terms with. He might be saying and doing all the right things now, but once we’re back in the States, he’s going back to training and I’m going back to the farm. And the pain that slashes through my heart reminds me of the many times I stayed still and quiet, hoping not to be seen by my mother and her “guests.” Making myself invisible. Nobody noteworthy. Forgettable.
And here I am again. But at least, in some senses, I have a choice to make. I can back away, try to keep things neutral again and maybe make the rest of the trip awkward, or I can go all in. I can let my heart fall and tumble for this man and deal with the pain later.
As his lips move across mine, I realize there’s only one clear-cut choice.
* * *
“Fuck, Hazel,” Crew says, as he moves in and out of me, the hot water of the shower spraying down on his back. “I’ll never get used to how good you feel, how good we feel together.”
He has both of my hands pinned above my head while my legs wrap around his waist. The sheer power of his thrusts shows me just how fit—how strong—he is while he holds me against the shower wall, bringing us both to the brink.
“I’m going to come,” he says just as my body pushes over and wracks with greedy need, convulsing around his large cock until I’m completely sated.
He lowers me, making sure I’m steady, before he lets go and presses his forehead to mine.
“So good.” He breathes heavily.
“That was my first shower sex,” I say, feeling a little shy.
“Really?” he asks, surprised.
“Yes. How many times have you had shower sex?”
He gives it a thought and then he chuckles. “I guess only once, and it wasn’t even sex, just oral.”
“Well, then, I guess that was a first for both of us.”
He drags his thumb down my cheek. “We took each other’s shower virginity.”
That makes me laugh out loud, and he takes that moment to kiss my neck for a few seconds before turning off the shower.
Because he loves taking care of me, he wraps a warm, plush towel around me first and then dries off with his, only to wrap it around his waist like an expert. He then maneuvers me around him, grabs another small hand towel, and starts drying my hair with it.
“I’ve always loved your hair,” he admits. “I remember being fascinated with the color when I was younger. I didn’t grow up with many redheads, and the kids I did know with red hair had a more fiery red, not the warm color of your hair. It set the standard for all the girls who passed through my life.”
“Did you ever go out with a redhead?” I ask as he picks up my brush and starts brushing my hair carefully, almost as if he’s scared to tug too hard.
“Never. They never matched up to you. It would have felt as though I was chasing after something I could never have.”
When he says things like that, it gives me hope, makes me think that there could be more. But then I remind myself of our conversation in the snow, his future laid out with me nowhere in sight.
“What about you?” he asks. “Ever date a guy with brown hair?”
“Yes,” I say, making him frown. I chuckle. “Sorry, but your hair isn’t really unique.”
“Ouch, Haze. You could make me believe that I’m unique in my own way.”
“Why would I inflate your ego more than it is? You know you’re hot, that you’re a stud, that you have the body of a god, and that your dick is massively impressive.”
“Massively, huh?” He smirks, and I reach out and pinch his side playfully. “Don’t let me stop you there. Keep the compliments coming.”
“I’m not sure I’d be able to squeeze around you in this bathroom if I inflate your ego any more than I have.”
“We can go into the bedroom, if that’s better.” His smirk just about does me in. God, I love him.
I only wish he felt the same way.
“Uh-oh, you thought of something to bring down the mood.”
“Huh?” I ask.
He presses his finger between my eyebrows. “There’s a crinkle there, which means you’re thinking about something you shouldn’t be thinking about.”
Trying to keep it light, I say, “You’re right. I was trying to figure out how to sneak out of here so I can go hang out with Fritz at the bar. His lederhosen had my nipples perking up. And his eyes—such a brilliant blue.”
Crew’s eyes narrow. “He’s actually good-looking, so this isn’t a joke to me.”
I laugh. “Ah, jealous?”
“Yes, yes, I am. And I have no problem saying it. Sorry to say, Haze, but you’re stuck with me.”
He removes my towel and wraps it around my waist, but not before getting in a good feel of my breasts. Of course.
“So, what should we do for the rest of the night?” he asks, securing my towel.
“I think we should break into the Schneeballen.”
“Oh, shit, I forgot about those. Hell yeah, we can order some milk—”
“Milk? You really drink milk?”
Like a complete douchebag, he flexes his arms and says, “You don’t get muscles like these without it.”
“You can, actually.”
“Anyway . . . we can get some drinks brought up and play some Christmas music, eat some Schneeballen, and then you can eat my balls. How does that sound?”
I tilt my head back and laugh. “All sounds great but the last part. Not going to eat your balls. Sorry, dude.”
“Lick them?”
I glance over my shoulder as I walk out of the bathroom. “If you’re lucky.”
Crew’s phone rings on the nightstand and I grab it for him. It’s his mom, FaceTiming. I quickly hand him the phone and step away, not wanting to be seen in a towel with her son.
“Hey, Mom,” Crew says. “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas, baby boy.”
“Merry Christmas,” I hear Porter say, his voice so similar to Crew’s, it’s scary. The apple really didn’t fall far from the tree. Not only do they sound the same, but Crew is a carbon copy of his dad. It’s why I still get a little weak in the knees around Porter Smith. Yup, I’m that girl, and I’m not even ashamed.
“Hey, Dad. How are you guys?”
“We’re good. Enjoying a nice, peaceful Christmas without you,” Porter says, making me chuckle.
“You really know how to speak to the heart, Dad.”
Porter chuckles. “We miss you, boy. Are you having fun?”
“We are,” Crew answers, including me, which I think is sweet. “It snowed about a foot here. Luckily, we were able to get to the hotel last night before it got too bad. The staff here is amazing, especially since it’s Christmas.”
“That’s good. Pops called around a lot to make sure there’d be a place for you guys to stay during Christmas and be taken care of.”
“How much time did he spend on this trip?” Crew asks, his voice softer. “Did you help?”
“I helped a little,” Marley answers. “But it was mostly Pops. He really wanted to make sure you replicated the trip he went on many years ago, or at least, as close to it as he could get. Isn’t it beautiful?”
“It is. It might sound corny, b
ut it feels as though we’re in a storybook.”
“That’s what I kept saying,” Porter says.
I finish putting on my clothes, and just in the nick of time, because Crew walks out into the bedroom with the phone.
“Say hi to Hazel.” Crew hands me the phone and then drops his towel, turning away from me, giving me the perfect view of his backside. Damn him. I feel my cheeks redden as his parents say hi to me.
“Hey, Hazel, is our boy treating you nicely?” Marley asks, looking pretty, as usual. She has such natural beauty, and doesn’t need anything more than mascara to bring out the beautiful hue of her eyes. No wonder they produced such a handsome son.
“He’s been an awful hag,” I say, which pulls Crew’s attention. He whips around to scowl at me, wearing nothing but a pair of boxer briefs now.
“He has been known to be a little haggish at times,” Porter says, making me laugh.
“I’m not being a hag,” Crew calls out. “I’m being a gentleman.”
That makes my cheeks redden even more. All I can think about is him saying he lets me come first—because that’s the gentlemanly thing to do.
“Is that true?” Marley asks me.
Swallowing hard, I plaster on a smile. “That’s true. He has been quite the gentleman.”
“Some might say an energetic gentleman,” Crew says, wiggling his eyebrows at me as he slides a pair of sweats on.
“So, how’s your Christmas?” I ask, not wanting them to respond to Crew’s inappropriate comment.
“It’s great. We’re excited to see the both of you soon,” Marley says. “And hear all about your trip.”
“Oh, I didn’t know I was going to see you,” I answer, confused.
“Yes, we’re all meeting up at the farm. Didn’t Crew see that his return ticket doesn’t go to LAX?”
“Probably didn’t pay attention,” Porter mumbles. “Just like his father.”
“Wait, what?” Crew comes up next to me and takes the phone so he can angle himself into the screen. “I’m not going straight home?”
Marley shakes her head. “No, we’re having a small gathering when you return. Uncle Paul will be there.”
The Romantic Pact Page 23