Chapter 005: Kisses & Secrets

Hayley.

I'm fussing as I lightly dab mascara along my lashes, blinking softly at the mirror before me. After a few seconds, I set the wand down, stare at my reflection and bask in the glow of my new look.

My silver-gray hair is pulled into a neat ponytail, tied with a pretty bow, and my brown cottage gown matches the brown of my eyes.

“You should look good for yourself sometimes, right?” I mutter to my reflection.

But who am I kidding? This isn't for me. It's all because of him.

I let out a huge breath, still peering at the mirror. Ten minutes ago I'd been lying down on my bed, idly scrolling through my phone when a text from Axel popped up. Said he needed help with a couple of arithmetic problems ahead of a class pop quiz.

And just like that I'd invited him over.

“You're just tutoring Axel for a few minutes, Hayley,” I whisper to myself.

And yet, voicing it out does nothing to quench the anticipation in my belly at the thought of having him over.

For a brief moment, my thoughts drift to the only boy who’s ever visited me—Theo, my ex. I can’t help but remember the times he’d sneak over when my parents were out, and the late nights I’d quietly let him out through the window.

I shut my eyes and inhale deeply, pulling myself back to the present as I will away the dull ache those memories stir.

Theo’s gone. I shouldn’t still be thinking about him.

There's a soft knock at the front door, and at the sound, my heartbeat jumps.

Axel’s here.

I glance at myself one last time in the mirror, running a hand down my dress and flashing my best smile before walking to the door.

When I open it, he's right there—Axel, in a simple grey shirt and shorts, wearing another one of his insanely handsome smiles.

“Hey,” he says. “Look, I'm really sorry to drop off like this, but I’m terrible at arithmetic, and according to Lucas, you're the only one who can save me.”

I stifle a chuckle as I return his smile. “It's no problem, Ax. I'll be happy to help. Come on in.”

I lead him through the sitting room and into my bedroom, silently thanking the universe that my mom isn’t home. If she were, this little study session would be happening at the kitchen table with the door wide open.

“Wow,” Axel mutters as he steps inside.

“I know, it's a small space,” I say shrugging a little as I turn to face him.

“It's perfect,” he replies, his lips curving into a smile. “A lot like…you.”

I can’t help the slight heat that creeps into my cheeks. He glances around the room, then pauses to squint at a framed picture above my bed.

"Who's Mr. Ginger Hair?" he asks with a teasing grin, pointing at the heart-shaped photo frame of Theo above my bed. I glance at the frame, and a wave of awkward embarrassment rushes over me.

"It’s no one," I say quickly, grabbing the frame and stuffing it into an empty drawer. When I meet Axel’s eyes again, there’s a glint of playful mischief in them—like he’s just caught me sneaking a chocolate bar as a kid.

"Alright," he says, lifting his hands in mock surrender. "If you say so.”

He settles comfortably on my bed, his eyes still locked on mine. “You’re the same,” he says softly. “Just like I remember.”

I sink into the bed beside him. “I doubt you even remember much,” I tease, flipping through a stack of class notes scattered on the bed. “It’s been five years, Ax.”

“Yeah,” he says with a quiet smile, “except, I do.”

He chuckles lightly. “All the troubles we got into…those late nights in your backyard, all of it.”

I pause, my fingers stilling over the pages. When I look up, I find him already watching me, his expression softer now—gentler. The kind of look that pulls something warm from deep inside me.

“You were more than a friend to me,” he says, and the words tug at something in me. Something deeper than childhood nostalgia.

I feel my heartbeat quicken as those sets of green eyes bore into me, reeling me in and stirring a desire new to me on the inside. I know I shouldn't respond. I know I should turn to my books. But instead, my heart answers before my head can stop it.

“And now?” I whisper. “What am I now?”

I watch his gaze trace my hair and then my eyes, stopping on my lips. And only then do I realize how close we are. He leans in slightly, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers grazing my skin with a tenderness that makes it hard to breathe. And in that moment, the air between us feels charged with emotion.

“Ax…” I whisper, my voice barely more than a breath as he tilts forward, his face now just inches from mine. Our foreheads nearly touch, and in that charged silence, the space between us dissolves. Caught in the rush of something old and impossibly new, I lean in, and our lips meet.

The kiss starts slowly, almost hesitant. But when his fingers gently graze the back of my neck, a soft gasp escapes my lips, and the kiss deepens. Our breaths intertwine, our lips devouring each other's in the spur of unbridled passion. I grip his shirt tightly, trying—and failing—to steady myself against the intensity building between us.

My hands explore his body, gliding from his chest to his back, and just then, I halt.

There's something under his shirt. It's rough, and feels like a wound.

My fingers hesitate, pressing against it just long enough to know it’s real. Instinctively, I pull away, my breath now shaky. “Axel, there’s something... on your back.”

He pulls back slowly and stares at me, saying nothing. There’s conflict in his eyes, like he’s weighing something heavy. Then, slowly, he reaches for the hem of his shirt and lifts it up, turning slightly.

And right then I see it—just beneath his ribs rests a scar shaped like a bite. It's jagged and healed, but undeniable.

“Oh my God, Axel..” I whisper, my eyes fixed on the scar.

“It's from…the night my parents were killed,” he says in a small voice, the weight of their demise hanging heavy in the room. “I was attacked too. By the bear.”

I reach for his hand, the need to comfort him outweighing my shock. But as our fingers touch, I see it—his index finger twitches.

It's a subtle movement, but one I know all too well.

For a moment, I stiffen. As kids, that little twitch of the finger gave him away every time he told a lie. It was a harmless tell then. But now?

Now I'm not so sure.

I pull my mind away from it. I convince myself that he's in grief. That's what that was.

I let go of his hand and try to push the doubt aside as we turn to the notes spread out on the bed. For the next hour, we work through arithmetic problems, with a few laughs breaking the silence from time to time as we get lost in stories from our childhood.

After our meeting, I walk Axel back to his place and we exchange a warm smile before parting ways.

It doesn’t take long before my mom returns home. I'm helping her make dinner when I feel her eyes on me. When I glance over, she quickly looks away, the corners of her mouth tugging into a small smile.

I narrow my eyes, amused. “Mom, what?”

She puts on an innocent face. “Nothing, baby,” she says, though her grin is now spreading wider. She turns back to the spinach she’s chopping, quiet for a moment, then glances at me again.

“You just look… different,” she says. “Happy.”

My cheeks warm as my mind flashes back to the kiss with Axel just minutes ago. I fight the urge to smile, unsure of what to say.

After a moment, I mumble an excuse and head upstairs to my room, feeling her gaze trail after me with that quiet, knowing look only mothers seem to have.

As I crawl into bed, I glance outside my window toward Lucas’s house. The light upstairs is on, though the window’s curtain is drawn. Just before it closes completely, I catch a glimpse of Axel, standing in his room, pulling his shirt off.

My breath hitches a little as my fingertips still remember the shape of him—strong, solid… scarred.

But more than the scar, I remember his finger; the small twitch that followed as he talked about the bear attack. As a kid, it was something he'd do whenever he lied. And tonight, he did it again.

I shut my eyes and try to ignore it, try to pretend it’s nothing. But I can’t shake the feeling.

My heart feels tangled in the past, in the memories of the childhood crush I used to know.

But my mind? My mind knows better.

There’s something about Axel Grey I don’t understand—and it’s more than just a scar.