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 and I shouldn’t still be thinking about him.

There's a soft knock at the front door, and at the sound, my heart starts to race slightly quicker than normal.

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, I find Axel in a simple grey shirt and shorts, wearing another one of his insanely handsome smiles.

“Hey,” he greets, beaming. “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'm 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 murmur, shrugging a little as I turn to face him.

“It's perfect,” he replies, his lips curling 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 answer 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 chuckles, 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 whispers 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...”

I pause, my fingers stilling over the pages. When I look up, I find him already watching me with a much softer expression.

“You were my favorite person in the world,” he confesses in a slow, tender voice, and the words tug at something in me. Something deeper than childhood nostalgia.

I feel my pulse quicken as those sets of green eyes stare at me, reeling me in and stirring a newfound desire inside of me. 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 to brush 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 only inches from mine now. Our foreheads nearly touch, and in that charged silence, the space between us dissolves. Caught in the rush of a childhood fantasy and something entirely new, I lean in, and our lips meet.

The kiss starts slowly, like we're unsure of ourselves. But when his fingers gently graze the back of my neck, a soft gasp escapes my lips, and he plunges deeper. Our breaths intertwine and our lips devour each other's in the spur of unexpected 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 amidst shaky breaths. “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 to reveal it:

Just beneath his ribs rests a scar shaped like a bite. It's jagged and healed, but the mark is undeniable.

“Oh my God, Axel..” I whisper, running my fingers gingerly over the scar.

“It's from…the night my parents were killed,” he murmurs in a small voice. “I was attacked by the bear as well.”

I reach for his hand, immediately feeling the need to comfort him. But as our fingers touch, I see his index finger twitch rapidly.

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

For a moment, I go stiff. 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.

But I pull my mind away from it. He's in grief, and that's probably 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. As we prepare dinner together, I feel her eyes on me. When I glance over, she quickly looks away, although the corners of her mouth slowly tug into a small smile.

I narrow my eyes in amusement. “Mom, what?”

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

“You just look… different,” she observes. “You're happy.”

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

After a few minutes, I mumble an excuse and head upstairs to my room, feeling her gaze trail after me long after I turn the corner on the stairs.

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 strong, solid shape of him. And the scar.

But more than the scar, I remember his finger; the way it twitched as he talked about the bear attack. As a kid, it was something that happened everytime he lied. And tonight, it happened again.

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

It's almost like my heart is tangled in the past, in the memories of the boy 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.