Falling For My Bestie's Son

Axel

Chapter 2

Axel

(Axel's POV)

Damn.

Losing this last game was a hard pill to swallow.

The pain in my leg was manageable. The irritation, less so.

I hated being sidelined. I hated being dependent. And I especially hated being dragged to a hospital when I was perfectly capable of dealing with an injury myself.

“Dr. Hudson said he wanted a specialist to look at it,” one of my teammates and best friend, Chase had explained when I growled at him in the locker room. “Just let her take a look, man. Chill.”

So here I was, on a damn paper-lined table, stewing in silence and watching the door, waiting for this doctor to appear.

Then she walked in.

And everything stopped.

She didn’t rush. She didn’t fumble. She walked in with quiet confidence, flipping through the chart like she had done this a thousand times.

“Hello… Mr. Hendrikson, I’m Dr. Sinclair. I’ll be looking after you—”

She looked up. Our eyes met.

And something in me shifted.

I felt my heartbeat erratically, though I could have imagined it.

It wasn’t just that she was beautiful—though she was, in a way that wasn’t loud. She had no makeup on and features that seemed surreal, like she wasn’t human.

God damn. She was what I was missing, and I knew it in my bones.

She blinked once, recovered quickly, and dropped her gaze to the file again.

“It looks like you injured your leg playing soccer. Dr. Hudson mentioned ongoing discomfort and strain.”

Her voice was low and smooth, professional—but I couldn’t stop staring. Not even when she moved toward me and began examining my leg.

She spoke about x-rays, cortisol, and physical therapy, but I barely processed the words. My attention was fixed on her hands. Her touch clinical, sure, but warm enough to make my skin buzz.

And when she leaned closer, my gaze was drawn to a small mole just behind her left ear. It was oddly… endearing. Personal. Like something not everyone got to see.

I said nothing. Not because I had no thoughts, but because I had too many.

I didn’t want to leave this room.

But I did. Eventually.

With her business card in my hand and her voice still echoing in my head.

I would have this woman.

Later that night, I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the card like it held the answer to something I couldn’t name.

Dr. Maya Sinclair.

I ran my thumb along the embossed print.

“Maya” The name rolled off my tongue.

Maya Sinclair was going to be mine.

And then I did what any rational man wouldn’t admit to. I took out my phone and set a reminder to schedule another appointment.

"Follow-up rehab." That’s what I’d call it. Just a few more sessions. Just enough to see her again.

My phone buzzed in my hand.

The screen flashed: Jessica.

My jaw clenched.

I let it ring once. Twice. I considered ignoring it. But I knew she’d just keep calling.

“Yeah,” I answered flatly.

Her voice oozed sugar and smoke. “Axel, sweetheart. I was just thinking of you. How are you feeling, darling? I heard about your leg.”

I didn’t respond.

“Look, can we meet soon? There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

Money. That’s what she meant. It was always money. The woman was just the biological womb; she didn’t have a maternal bone in her Botox-filled body.

“Let me guess, your out of cash?” I asked coldly. There was a part, deep in the dark depth that wanted my ‘mother’ to prove me wrong, just once. But I knew the woman better than she thought and could anticipate her reaction and answer to my question.

“Sweetheart that wasn’t what I wanted to talk to you about. But since you brought it up, I could use your help, it’s urgent.” Jessica said in a sickly-sweet voice.

I hung up. No goodbye. No promise to call back.

Jessica Miller was a leech that just happened to be the woman who gave birth to me. I didn’t consider her my mother, nor did I call her mom. Jessica had ignored me since the day she had given birth to me. She used me to trap my father and marry him. One of the richest men in the country. But no amount of money could make a woman like Jessica love her own child. I was lucky, I had a father who cared about me, and a stepmom who loved me like her own child. There was no room for Jessica Miller in my life. The only reason she was back was because she had lost everything, along with her family members. She was broke and had remembered she had a son she could exploit.

Nonetheless, I showed up at her condo a few hours later.

I wanted Jessica to stay away from my father and stepmom, Leila. I would do anything to ensure that.

She opened the door wrapped in nothing but a towel, the scent of vanilla candles and expensive wine bleeding out into the hallway. Her wet hair was slicked back, and a series of fading love bites trailed down her neck.

A man’s laugh drifted from the bathroom.

For a moment, she blinked in surprise—then smiled, lazy and smug. “Axel. Didn’t expect you so soon.”

I stared at her, expression unreadable. “You said it was urgent.”

Jessica leaned against the doorframe, not even pretending to cover up the mess behind her. “Everything with you is urgent, baby. You never come around unless I ask nicely.”

“You don’t ask. You demand.”

Her smile faltered, just a fraction. “Is that a new tone I hear? Getting bold now that you're all grown up?”

I didn’t reply.

I reached into my wallet and pulled out a card—one I shouldn’t have to give.

I stepped inside just far enough to toss it on the table by the door.

“There,” I said. “That should cover whatever ‘urgent’ means this week.”

Jessica’s eyes flicked to the card, then back to me. “You know, a normal son might ask how his mother is doing.”

I tilted my head. “A normal mother might not open the door in a towel with man in her shower.”

She flushed—not with shame, but with irritation. “You’re so dramatic, Axel.”

“And you’re so predictable.”

I turned to leave.

“Don’t you even want to talk—?”

But the door was already closing behind me. Jessica Miller wouldn’t ever change and the sooner I could come to terms with that; the sooner I couldn’t completely cut her off. But hope was a fickle thing. And for some reason, I had a sliver of hope that Jessica would awaken one day and see me as her son and not a wallet. This time needed to be different.

I didn’t care what she wanted.

I only knew one thing for sure:

Dr. Maya Sinclair hadn’t left my mind since the moment she walked into that exam room.

And now, I had no intention of leaving hers.