Playing Heart Games

Level 24: Meet The Family

AXEL

I pulled out two ice cream tubs from the freezer.

"For you," I said, sliding the vanilla tub across the kitchen counter. I placed my tub of peanut butter in front of me. "And for me." I plucked out spoons, handing one to Violet.

"Thank you," she grinned.

My heartbeat faltered. I took it in stride, "No need for thanks, Curls, I love giving pretty girls ice cream."

And there it was again: that wide-eyed look, like she was a bunny caught in headlights.

The look she got whenever I said something complimentary.

It was adorable. And I was beginning to like it.

You're flirting Axel, and you're being an idiot.

I'd come to terms with the facts—when this was over, she would move on with her life and forget about me. But I'd take advantage while she was still around. I'd let myself enjoy her presence until she no longer wanted to be around me.

We ate our ice cream quietly.

Silence wasn't so horrible when Violet was around.

We'd been eating for almost ten minutes when I noticed Violet staring at the tattoo on my forearm.

"What's up Curls?"

She reached forward. I stilled when her fingers brushed my forearm.

She glanced up at me. "I never asked before—what does this one mean? I know the wings are from the myth of Icarus, but you never explained the roses and thorns." She paused, then, "The one on your back," she said softly, "it was thorns and roses over a heart." Her eyes softened. "Is—is that how you feel?"

My throat constricted. Concern. The expression on her face was concern.

I parted my lips.

The front door opened.

"Axe, are you home?" Asher slipped inside, carrying groceries. "I've got ice cr—" He glanced up, stopping as he spotted us. He blinked. "I didn't know you had company," he said, quieter.

Violet turned. My chest tightened.

Violet hopped off the high stool, smiling as she crossed the room towards him. The ache in my chest worsened.

"Hi, you must be Axel's brother. I'm Violet." She held out a hand.

Asher shook it. His eyes flickered to me. "I'm Asher," he said.

For a moment, their voices faded and all I could see was them standing there together. Two perfect people.

If this was a fairy-tale, Asher would be the prince. Violet would be the princess he was betrothed to.

And I would be the anti-hero.

They made sense. Both of them smart. Neither of them screw-ups.

I could imagine her falling in love with him.

A prickle ran up my spine. I wondered if this one of those moments that everyone would look back on. One of those moments that featured in wedding speeches.

The day they met, she was hanging out with his loser brother—

"Axel, are you okay?"

I blinked, realising that Violet was across the counter again, her brows furrowed. Asher was arranging groceries in the fridge.

I tried for a smile. "I'm fine."

She frowned like she didn't believe me. She parted her lips to speak, when her phone vibrated. I watched as she pulled it out.

"Mom says there's some kind of delivery coming today," she said. She glanced up, her features transforming into what I could have sworn was regret. "She wants me to be there to collect it. I have to go home."

She hadn't been here that long. I didn't want her to leave yet.

I forced a grin. "How about I see you out, Curls?"

She nodded, slipping off the stool.

Normal. Be normal, Axel.

We stepped outside.

She turned to me. "Thank you for the self-defence lesson," she said. "Did someone teach you all of those?"

"I got most of them from YouTube."

I did kickboxing, and I knew several martial arts—dad had gotten both Asher and I enrolled in them, alongside a whole bunch of other classes, when we were younger—but I didn't think a couple hours was enough to get her up to a black belt.

"Well, thank you."

And then she hugged me.

And I hugged her back, loving the fact that she was in my arms.

And that, for a split second, I could pretend I was worth her time.

She let go. "I'll see you later." She waved at me before she slipped into her car.

I watched her disappear down the street, then I stepped back into the house.

Asher was at the counter. He glanced up as I walked towards him.

He paused, then, "Is that the girl from the video?"

I stiffened. "The video?"

"The fight," he said, watching me.

Crap.

The video had gone online, but I'd scanned through all the versions I could find, and I'd been sure they hadn't shown Violet's face.

Asher's eyes flickered to the door. "She's nothing like Dakota or Bree," he murmured.

Names I never wanted to hear again.

"No," I said. "No, she's not."

She wasn't a manipulator. She didn't like to hurt people.

Asher's gaze returned to me. He tilted his head, his brows furrowing. "That fight—that wasn't like you."

I shrugged.

"You're different," he said quietly.

Exactly. That was the problem.

Asher moved towards the door to his room, his few moments of socialising over. "Remember we have that business dinner tonight."

I nodded.

Nine hours later, when we were sitting around a table with dad's business associates and their two children, I was quiet.

I realised, as our father spoke about Asher's successes, how different we were.

I saw how much of a failure I really was compared to my brother.

*

Thank you for reading :)