Page 24

Hazel

I woke up to the sound of rain. Soft, rhythmic drops tapped against the windowpane, muffled by thick curtains, and for a second, I let myself drift in that in-between state, where reality hadn’t quite settled in yet. A comforting warmth enveloped me, chasing away the chill. Nate’s guest room. Then, it hit me. Last night. Campbell.

His lips on mine, the way his fingers had tilted my chin up, the way he had kissed me like he wanted me. My stomach twisted as I sat up too fast, shoving the blankets away. I couldn’t think about that. I shouldn’t think about that. Because it meant nothing. It couldn’t. I reached for my phone on the nightstand, my heart stuttering when I saw a message waiting for me.

Campbell: Going to skate with my sister, Morgan. Want to come?

Morgan? I stared at the text, rereading it as if I’d somehow misinterpreted. Campbell had a sister? He’d never mentioned her before, and I’d never once seen him with family. A logical part of me said to ignore it. To stay here, and let last night fade into nothing, pretend it was just a lapse in judgment—a moment of weakness for both of us. But then I thought about the way he’d held me under the rain, the teasing glint in his eyes, the way he made me feel seen in a way no one else did. My fingers hovered over the screen.

Hazel: Okay.

I sent it before I could change my mind.

**

Morgan was already waiting for us when we arrived. She was smaller than I expected—maybe seven or eight, with dark hair and bright, curious eyes that reminded me so much of Campbell’s it made my chest ache. She wore a thick coat and skates that looked a size too big, but she carried herself with confidence, hands on her hips as we stepped onto the ice.

“You took forever.” She accused, eyes narrowing at her brother.

Campbell snorted.

“Hey, blame Hazel. She’s a mess in the mornings.”

I shot him a glare and shoved his arm.

“I am not.”

Morgan giggled, watching us with a knowing expression that made me shift.

“You guys are weird.”

Campbell smirked.

“Took you long enough to figure that out.”

We sat down to lace up, and I watched him with her. This was a side of Campbell I’d never seen before. Campbell kneeled to tie her skates, even when she batted his hands away and insisted she could do it herself. He listened to every single word she said, nodding along like she was the most important person in the world. He adjusted her helmet, zipped her jacket, and skated beside her to prevent her from falling. And something inside me twisted. Because I was used to the Campbell everyone else saw. The reckless, cocky, untouchable version. But this? This was a boy who loved his sister more than anything. And I couldn’t pretend that it didn’t mean something.

“Are you even trying, Ellis?” He taunted, that smirk carved into his stupidly perfect face.

I glared at him, my legs burning from the effort.

“I am! Some of us weren’t born with skates on our feet.”

Morgan zipped past us with ease, laughing.

“She’s better than you said she’d be.”

I turned to him.

“You’ve been talking about me?”

Campbell ignored me, muttering to Morgan, “Don’t encourage her.”

I smirked.

“Jealous?”

He leaned in, lowering his voice.

“You wish.”

The words sent a shiver down my spine, but before I could react, my skate caught on the ice, and my balance wavered. Campbell’s hands were on me, fingers gripping my waist, steadying me. For a long, stretched-out second, neither of us moved. I was close enough to see the flecks of gold in his blue eyes, to feel the warmth of his breath ghost against my cheek. His hands didn’t let go, fingers flexing like he was debating something. Then he swallowed, stepping back. His jaw tightened.

“Try not to break yourself, yeah?”

My heart was still hammering as he turned away. Morgan studied us both with narrowed eyes, her gaze flicking between us like she was putting together a puzzle.

“Hazel,” she blurted. “Do you like my brother?”

Campbell choked. I turned bright red.

“Morgan—”

She shrugged, unbothered.

“What? It’s obvious.”

My stomach flipped. I scrambled for words, but my brain short-circuited.

“I—No! We—”

Campbell didn’t help. He just stood there, arms crossed, the dumbest, most amused grin on his face.

“You’re making her nervous.” He told Morgan.

“That means she does.” Morgan declared.

Campbell laughed under his breath while I resisted the urge to skate away and never come back. Morgan skated ahead, leaving just the two of us. As if she didn’t just make everything even more tense. The rink felt too quiet. The space between us charged. I glanced at Campbell.

“She’s amazing, you know. Morgan.”

His expression softened.

“Yeah. She is.”

“She looks up to you.”

A shadow crossed his face, barely there, but impossible to miss. He scoffed.

“Sometimes I think she shouldn’t.”

I frowned, stepping closer.

“Why would you say that?”

His hands curled into fists at his sides. He hesitated, like he wanted to say something but couldn’t. Then he looked at me. Really looked at me.

“Did you think about last night?”

The air between us turned electric. I sucked in a breath.

“Yeah, what about you?”

He exhaled, his fingers brushing my sleeve, barely touching but enough to make my heart race.

“Too much.”

The weight of those two words settled deep into my bones. Something flickered in his eyes—something raw, unguarded. For a second, I thought he might kiss me again. I thought I might let him. But then the fear crept in. Of what this meant. Of what I wanted it to mean. I stepped back, my voice too shaky.

“We should go.”

Campbell didn’t move. He just watched me retreat, his jaw clenching, his expression unreadable. He knew I was running. The question was, how long before I stopped?

**

The party blurred around me—the warm glow of the fire, grilled food lingering in the crisp night air, the hum of laughter and conversation. I sat at the edge of a wooden bench, my fingers curled around a cup of cider, staring into the flames like they held all the answers I didn’t have. But I felt him.

Every time I stole a glance, Campbell was already watching me. There was something in his expression—something unreadable but heavy. Ever since that night in the rain, the air between us was thick, weighted with everything unsaid. And I hated it. I hated how much I thought about him. How much I felt when he was near. I gripped my cup tighter, willing myself to look away. To not care. Then Nevaeh walked in. And just like that, the warmth in my chest turned to ice. Her presence changed everything.

The second she stepped onto the patio, the peaceful rhythm of the party faltered—at least for me. She scanned the backyard, her sharp gaze flicking from person to person before locking onto her target. Campbell. Then me. Something in her expression sharpened, a glint of cruel amusement dancing behind her eyes. I barely had time to brace myself before she crossed the yard, her long legs carrying her toward me with an effortless grace I could never match. She sat down next to me, too close, her perfume cloying in the cold air.

“You two have been spending a lot of time together.” She mused, swirling her drink.

I forced myself to stay still, to keep my voice steady.

“We’re just friends.”

Nevaeh let out a soft, disbelieving laugh.

“Oh, Hazel.” She tilted her head, eyes glinting. “You actually think he likes you?”

My stomach dropped. She leaned in, her voice sweet.

“I mean, come on. Campbell Atwood could have anyone he wants.” She let the words hang in the air, sinking in. “Did you think he’d pick you?”

The world felt like it had tilted under me. Nevaeh took a slow sip of her drink, watching me over the rim of her cup. “I mean no offense, but you’re not his type. He likes girls who—” she gestured, eyes trailing over me like I was something pitiful. “You know. Eat .”

I stopped breathing. The air shifted. Subtle, but enough that my whole body tensed. Nevaeh smiled, feigning innocence.

“I just worry about you sometimes. It’s a lot for someone to always have to watch over you.” My throat closed. She promised she’d never bring it up. We promised to never bring up the darkest moment of my life. “Face it,” she continued, flipping her hair over her shoulder, her voice dripping with casual cruelty. “You’re just convenient. He flirts with you because it’s easy. You’re safe. ” I gripped my cup tighter, knuckles turning white. “You thought you had a chance, didn’t you?” Nevaeh’s voice dripped with honeyed sweetness, though a shadow briefly crossed her face. It wasn’t cruelty. It was something else. Insecurity. “Must be nice,” she added, swirling the drink in her hand. “To have someone look at you like that.”

My breath hitched. She seethed with resentment. I couldn’t listen anymore. I bolted, not knowing where I was going, but I needed to get away. My feet carried me past the fire pit, past the hum of laughter and music, past the warmth of the party. Cold air stung my face as I stumbled into the trees at the edge of Nate’s property, stopping only when I reached a quiet clearing. The second I was alone, the tears came.

The words curled around my ribs, squeezing, suffocating. I pressed my fingers into my arms, gripping myself, grounding myself. It shouldn’t have hurt this much. But it did. A branch snapped behind me. I turned—and there he was. Campbell stood there, chest rising and falling like he had run after me. His jaw clenched the second he saw my tear-streaked face.

“What happened?” He asked.

His voice was rough. I shook my head.

“Nothing.”

He stepped closer. I took a shaky breath.

“Bullshit,” he muttered. “Did she say something to you?” I looked away. And then, softer — “Hazel.”

His voice changed. No teasing, no arrogance. Just him. Gentle. Coaxing. And that was what broke me.

My voice cracked. I swallowed hard, blinking fast. “She said I was stupid for thinking someone like you could ever…”

I couldn’t even finish the sentence. Campbell’s entire body tensed, his hands curling into fists at his sides. Silence stretched between us. Then he exhaled.

“What the fuck, Hazel.” Before I could react, his hands were on my face, tilting my chin up. I sucked in a sharp breath. “You think I don’t want you?”

My heart pounded. He leaned in. I didn’t move. And then his lips brushed mine. It wasn’t careful. It wasn’t hesitant. It was raw. Desperate. Like he was trying to prove something. I melted. His arms wrapped around me, pulling me against him, his warmth chasing away the cold, the doubt, the ugly words Nevaeh had planted in my mind. Nothing else mattered. Just this. Just him.