by N. Alleman
“Yeah, sorry,” I say in a clipped tone. “You were saying?”
“I said I just got a phone call from my mom. My little brother apparently crashed Dad’s car, and I have to head there to smooth things over. I don’t want the next time I see David to be in a casket.”
He laughs easily, and I give him an uncertain look. “So, you’re leaving?”
“Afraid so. Anything else I can do for you before I go?” he asks, giving me a deep look.
“No, that’s okay,” I say moodily. “Thanks for bringing me here. It was nice hanging out with you.”
One part of me is disappointed he didn’t try to make a move, the other is still preoccupied with thoughts of Axel. But when Jason leans forward to hug me, he goes in for a kiss. Before I can stop myself, I instinctively turn my head to the side so it only ends up being a peck.
“Hope to see you again soon,” Jason whispers in my ear. The next thing I know he’s gone. Too late, I realize he was my ride home.
I sigh heavily and head to the back of the house. There’s a huge pool there, but also an area with a playground a little way off which is suitably deserted, just like me. I think Becky has a younger sister. She must be the one using the swing set and the slide.
I plop down on one of the swings and stare at the ground. Even though I fight them hard, the tears are threatening to spill from my eyes. And really, it’s no one’s fault but my own.
I messed everything up. I stood Axel up and was so rude I didn’t even tell him I’d made other plans for the party. I assumed he would just forget to pick me up, anyway. But Dad’s call from an hour ago proved otherwise. Axel had been at my house and apparently looked “a bit upset” when I wasn’t there to meet him.
Jason was perfectly nice to me as well, while I treated him horribly.
I deserve everything that happened, I decide with a sigh. I messed up royally, all because of my horrible insecurities. I kick at the grass on the ground, mumbling something to myself.
“Who’s the stupid, stupid idiot?”
I look up, blushing. Axel’s leaning against the metal rod of the swing set, his eyes gleaming with mischief. And for the first time in months, I feel like I can open up to him.
“Me,” I say softly. “I was mean to Jason, and … I let you down. I’m sorry, Axel.”
He sits down on the swing next to mine. For the next few moments, we hang suspended in the air. Axel’s tall, so his legs reach the ground, while mine flail in the air.
“I admit it’s not the best day I’ve ever had,” Axel says, giving me a sideways look. “But it seems like you’ve been having a hard time too, Olive.”
I shrug, my gaze glued to the ground. Even though I’m talking to Axel, my dearest and oldest friend—if I can even call him that anymore. I’ve probably ruined any kind of relationship we had.
The first fat tear rolls down my cheek and hits my jeans.
“Hey, Olive,” Axel says softly. “Don’t cry, baby.”
His word of endearment actually makes my heart stop for a second. Damn my stupid crush on Axel Reign. I should’ve gotten over it years ago, when I first realized I wasn’t worthy of his attention.
“Please, baby,” he says again, getting off the swing and coming to kneel in front of me. I finally let my eyes float to his, surprised to find his gaze filled with compassion and kindness. I really am a massive bitch. Axel’s been nothing but nice to me, and all I do is push him farther and farther away.
“Olive, it’s going to be all right. I know things are a bit weird right now. Is there something else going on?” Axel asks gently.
I shrug again. “I miss my mom a lot,” I say simply. Not that Axel doesn’t know. When she died, I spent weeks crying on his shoulder. But now that we’ve stopped hanging out, I haven’t really been able to speak about her. Dad gets touchy whenever I bring her up, then worried for my well-being. I’m handling it okay I guess. If losing your mom at eight years old is something you can handle okay.
But I miss talking about her. Remembering her. Seeing her smile when I walk down the stairs and she’s made pancakes for breakfast.
“I know, baby,” Axel says softly. And suddenly, his hand is on my knee and it feels so good to be touched, to have someone care for me, that I start to cry uncontrollably. Sobs rack my body, and I’m gasping for air.
The next thing I know, Axel has pulled me from the swing and wrapped me up in his arms. It feels so familiar, yet new and exciting at the same time. His hands are stronger, more muscular. His scent is more masculine—deeper and muskier. At the same time, it’s still Axel. My best friend. My first love, not that he knows that.
“You know,” he says softly, stroking my hair. “She always made me a cake for my birthday. Remember that?”
Somehow, his soothing motion manages to calm me, and I sob more quietly, smiling through my tears.
“Yeah,” I say with a sad smile. “Carrot cake, your favorite. And I hated it, and always moaned about it every year.”
I lean my head against Axel’s shoulder and snuggle closer to him. For once, I’m not delving into dangerous territory. I’m not thinking about his lips on mine, or his hands on my naked skin … Okay, maybe now I am. But it feels so good to be held like this, for the first time in months.
“I know.“ Axel laughs. “I thought of it all day today. It really isn’t the same without her. My mom baked a cake, and burnt it gloriously. Smoldering chocolate lava cake really doesn’t compare to your mom’s carrot.“
I laugh, and after a second, pull away and give Axel a confused look. “What do you mean?” I ask in confusion. “Why did you have a cake today?”
Axel smiles slowly at me, and it finally hits me. “Oh my God,” I whisper. “Oh my dear God. It’s your birthday today.”
“Yep,” he says with a grin. “I’m eighteen.”
“Shit.” I rip myself out of Axel’s embrace and cover my mouth with my hands. “Axel, I completely forgot. I messed up so much … I can’t believe it slipped my mind.”
The whole day replays in my head, and it’s even more awful than I remember it. He came to talk to me. I was rude as hell. He invited me out, I stood him up. And I yelled at him countless times just today. I really am a bitch.
“Don’t worry about it, Olive,” he says with a small smile. “Happens to the best of us. Remember when I forgot yours when you were seven? It was no big deal.”
“Yeah?” I raise my eyebrows at him, panicking. “I made you eat a dirt cake instead of the strawberry shortcake my mom made.”
“There might’ve been a worm in it,” Axel grimaces, and I wail.
“Axel, I’m so sorry,” I manage. “I can’t believe I forgot!”
“How about you let it go?” he asks, his grin growing wider. “But you can finally wish me a happy birthday, how about that?”
I take his hand in mine, trying to look as sincere and serious as possible. “Axel,” I say with a solemn voice, making him crack up. “I wish you the best, most amazing, special birthday ever. And I hope you find a better friend than me to spend the rest of it with.”
“Well, there’s only a few hours left,” he says, pointing up at the night sky. It’s a full moon tonight, and the evening is pleasant and cool. “What do you say we make the best of it? Want to make it up to me for forgetting?”
I look at him for a long time, thinking about his question. And just like that, I realize there’s nothing I’d rather do in the world than spend the rest of the night with Axel.
“Yes,” I say with a small smile. “Yes, let’s make it a night to remember.”
He grins as he pulls on my hand, leading me somewhere with a wink. “Way ahead of you, baby. Way ahead of you.”
My heart stops again when he calls me that.
I’m such a fool for him.
4
Axel
I know she didn’t forget my birthday on purpose. With everything going on in Olive’s life, I really can’t blame her for not remembering. Still, the way she
wishes me a happy birthday makes me the happiest guy in the world. And I’m determined to spend the rest of the day with her, just like we used to.
We walk over to my bike, and I hand Olive a helmet.
“Are you for real?” she asks doubtfully. “I really don’t want to ride that thing.”
“Are you walking?” I ask with raised eyebrows, and with a roll of her eyes she puts the helmet on.
“Looks good on you,” I say with a cheeky grin. This earns me a muffled thanks as she climbs on behind me. When she clasps her arms around me it feels great, and I rev the engine, happy to get us the hell away from Becky and her gaggle of clones.
“Do you mind if we stop at the gym first? I have to pick up something,” I say over my shoulder.
To be honest, that last part is a total lie. There’s nothing I have to pick up, I’m just trying to think of an excuse to get Olive to the gym. I have something special planned.
“Sure, that’s fine,” she raises her voice over the roar of the engine, and holds onto me tightly. I can’t get enough of her clutching onto me for safety. I can’t stop grinning as I drive away from the party, leaving everyone behind us.
The gym’s not far, and I pull into the parking lot within a few minutes. We climb off my bike, and Olive takes off her helmet and shakes out her hair. The way she does that stuns me into silence, and I just stare at her, my mouth wide open.
She’s so fucking beautiful. I don’t know whether the fact she has no clue is hot or annoying, but she has no idea how desirable she is.
I busy myself with putting away our helmets, then risk it and grab her hand. She looks surprised but I feign nonchalance and pull her toward the back entrance.
“My coach gave me a spare key,” I babble. “I spend so much time here, he thought it would be better if I had one. I’ve been training a lot.”
“I noticed,” Olive says while I unlock the door, never letting go of her hand. And then we’re inside, I lead her toward the boxing bags.
“Are you saying you noticed my extremely handsome, muscular body?” I ask solemnly.
“Yes, stud,” she purrs, fanning her face, teasing me. Jesus, I could get used to her being all fun and flirty like that. Though I’d probably have to pounce on her. I’m already dying to.
“I have to look for something,” I tell Olive as I turn on the lights in the room. “It will take just a second. Do you want to have some fun while I do that?”
“Sure.” She shrugs uncertainly, looking around the room. “What is there to do here?”
I take some women’s boxing gloves off a shelf and toss them her way. She catches one, but misses the other and it lands on the floor. I do my best not to laugh.
“You could try some moves on that thing over there.” I point to a boxing bag. “I’ll just be a minute.”
I leave the room before Olive can object. I know she’s not a boxer, but I wanted to get her to the gym to maybe help her let off some steam.
Okay, fine, and I wanted to impress her with my moves, as well. Anything to get that pretty face smiling.
I sneak into the changing rooms and peek around the door, trying to see what Olive will do. I’m not really looking for anything, but I make a mental note to bring out a pair of sneakers from my locker and pretend I forgot them here.
At first, she doesn’t do much of anything, standing in the middle of the room and stepping from one foot to another awkwardly. She’s so fucking beautiful.
Even if the room were full of people, my eyes would be drawn to her. It’s always been that way. If only she’d let me get close enough, she’d see for herself we make perfect sense together.
She stares at the boxing bag, looking unsure of herself. Finally, she puts the gloves on and awkwardly hits the bag. It doesn’t even move. She looks uncomfortable as fuck. I need another trick. Thankfully, I have an ace up my sleeve.
“Mind if I put on some music?” I shout, my voice echoing across the empty space, heading for the stereo.
“No, that sounds good,” she yells back, and I put in a CD I made for myself to work out to. It’s all angry tracks with fast beats. Perfect for letting out all the frustration that builds up deep inside.
That’s something I’m pretty familiar with. I’ve beaten the hell out of that bag many times thinking about the way Olive’s been treating me lately—ignoring me, refusing to acknowledge there was ever a connection between us.
When I started training, my life changed without me even wanting it to. I got into a different clique at school, and people liked me better. I got bulkier, finally filled out. But I never wanted things to change between Olive and me. At least not in the way they did.
But she pushed me away, pushed so far, I nearly gave up. But tonight I’m getting a glimpse of hope. She’s warming up to me again. Truth be told, I haven’t changed as a person, and I know Olive will always be one of the good girls. We’ll always get along. A six-pack and a new haircut don’t mean I’m a different guy.
Olive’s hips start to sway with the music, and I love the way she lets go of her inhibitions. She starts hitting the bag again, this time with more determination. She gets more focused as she starts to work the bag. One punch at a time. Slowly, she’s letting go.
After a bit, I can tell she’s in the zone, so I move into the doorframe where I can watch her. Her hair is wild, cheeks flushed, her mouth looks sexy set in that determined line. She nudges her glasses up the bridge of her nose and exhales.
I can feel my cock getting hard in my jeans, so desperate to get closer to her. I want her. I want the sexy, geeky neighbor girl more than ever.
She’s really getting into it now. Punching the bag hard, just like I was doing hours earlier. I can see her trying to rid herself of all those demons haunting her, and I want to help her. I want her to get it all out until she can finally breathe. I know how helpful the boxing is. I’ve been trying to quiet my own demons for a year now.
I approach her slowly, and as soon as Olive sees me coming closer, her posture stiffens and she stops hitting the bag. “It’s okay,” I tell her softly. “Let me help you, okay?”
She hesitates before finally nodding, and I come closer, standing behind her. We’re so fucking close now, almost touching but not quite. I need to feel her skin against mine so very badly, but I settle for this.
I take hold of Olive’s wrists and position them the right way. “Look, you have to hit like this, otherwise you’ll hurt your knuckles,” I say softly, slowly moving her hands so she hits the boxing bag.
She relaxes in my arms, but only a little bit. I can still feel the tension inside her, the knots in her shoulders, the way she doesn’t want to let go completely.
I get it. I was the same way starting out, afraid to let go of everything. But when my coach taught me to relax, the wins started coming. The weight on my shoulders started dropping. I got better, and my head got clearer. I want the same for Olive.
I help her for a little while longer, and with each punch, she grows more relaxed in my arms, until she’s almost hitting the bag herself.
“You’re doing great,” I say proudly into her ear, and before I can stop myself, I’ve pressed a kiss to her hair.
Olive moves away fast. She’s looking at the floor, her cheeks beet red. “Okay, I think I’m done,” she says shyly. “We should get going. I’m sure you don’t want to spend your birthday boxing with me, right?”
I laugh, throwing my head back. Coming closer to Olive, I take her hands in mine and catch her fearful gaze. “There’s no place I’d rather be,” I tell her honestly, pulling her back to the bag. “Now show me what you’ve got, Olive. I don’t believe that’s the best you can do, is it?”
She gives me a defiant look. “I’ll show you,” she mutters under her breath and moves in closer to the bag. “I was holding out on you, Axel. Didn’t wanna embarrass you, you know.”
I smirk as she steadies the bag. “Oh, I see. You didn’t want to beat me at my own game, did you?”
; “Obviously.” She’s laughing now. She starts punching the bag tentatively, and I’m proud to see she’s doing it the way I taught her.
She’s so sweet, so fucking irresistible as she gives that bag all she’s got.
I watch her let her rage out on that bag. I can tell the exact moment when she forgets I’m in the room with her. Finally, she’s going to let it all out, and I’m so happy for her.
I retreat to the corner to observe my brave girl. She’s wearing herself out, but the adrenaline in her veins means she doesn’t know it yet. Her hair is plastered to her forehead, and she’s hitting the bag harder—not as hard as I usually do, but it’s obvious she’s doing her best.
She delivers one last blow when I see her expression falter. And I reach Olive just in time to stop her falling to the floor. I take her in my arms as she breaks, tears flowing from her eyes.
“Axel,” she whimpers.
“Shh, it’s okay,” I try to calm her down. “I know, baby. Shh, it’s okay.”
I hold her as she whimpers and cries. The same thing happened to me when I was starting out. I’d broken out in a rage instead, punching everything that came close to me, but I know the feeling—utterly vulnerable and raw.
I knew it would happen to Olive. I needed it to happen. I know it will help her in the long run. But I’m not about to tell her that.
Right now, all she needs is for me to hold her. And I do just that until she slowly starts shaking in my arms and the whimpering stops. She’s snuggled close to my chest, gripping onto my T-shirt which is soaked from her tears.
“Sorry,” she says, and I can hear the embarrassment in her voice. She tries to pull away, but I don’t let her. I need her close to me.
“It’s okay, baby,” I tell her softly. “You just got emotional. It happens to everyone. Do you want to tell me what you’re thinking about?”
She shakes her head uncertainly, but still, the words spill out of her mouth. “I thought about everything at home. How angry I am about what’s happening, you know?”
