Sophia Thomas had always understood two fundamental truths about Daniel Harper.
Firstly, he was her brother Nathan's closest friend — the golden boy adored by all.
Secondly, she was utterly, quietly, hopelessly in love with him.
It all began when she was twelve. Not the whimsical kind of love that little girls would announce or scribble in their notebooks with hearts around their crush's names. No, it was a more subdued kind — the type that thrived in stolen glances and made her heart race whenever he entered a room.
Nathan was three years her senior, with Daniel being a year ahead of him. That made Daniel seventeen by the time Sophia first noticed him — tall, broad-shouldered, effortlessly charming in his well-worn leather jacket and easy smile. He epitomized everything the teenage girl yearned for: confident, handsome, and kind without any apparent effort.
But to him?
She was merely "Nathan's little sister."
That label followed her like a shadow during every encounter. At family dinners, weekend get-togethers, and even at Nathan's college graduation party, where she awkwardly lingered by the punch bowl while Daniel laughed and celebrated with his friends.
"Hey, Soph," he would say, tousling her hair as if she were still ten instead of fifteen. "Have you grown yet? Or are you still hiding behind your brother?"
She despised how much love she felt for the way he said her name.
However, tonight felt different.
Daniel had returned home for summer break, and Nathan insisted he should help tutor Sophia in math. She wasn't terrible at it — not really — but Nathan believed she required extra assistance to get into the honors track next year.
So there she sat at the kitchen table, notebook open, eagerly waiting for Daniel to step through the door.
The sound of laughter filled the room before she even laid eyes on him — deep and warm, wafting in with the aroma of summer air and cologne. Then he appeared at the threshold, dressed in faded jeans and a white t-shirt that hugged his shoulders just enough.
Her stomach flipped in that familiar way.
"Ready for some math magic?" he asked, flashing her a grin as he dropped his backpack onto the chair opposite hers.
Sophia nodded, swallowing hard. "Yeah."
He settled down, retrieving a pen and flipping open her textbook. "Alright, let's see what we're working with."
For a brief moment, a hush enveloped them, except for the sound of his pen as he skimmed the problems. He glanced up, brow knitted together.
"You got these wrong," he stated, pointing to a row of equations.
"I know," she confessed, staring at her hands. "I tried, but I couldn't grasp how to do them."
"Well, don't worry," he promised gently. "I'll explain it until you understand."
His voice was calm, patient — a stark contrast to the playful teasing tone he typically used around Nathan and their friends. Somehow, that made her heart race even more.
As he elaborated on the steps, she found herself observing him rather than listening. The way his lips moved, the soft crinkle at the corners of his eyes when he smiled. He was so close she could almost catch a whiff of his shampoo — clean and earthy.
"Got it now?" he asked, looking at her expectantly.
She blinked. "Uh… yeah. Totally."
He beamed. "Good. Let's tackle one together."
She picked up her pencil and leaned forward, transcribing the problem onto her paper. But midway through, she realized she hadn't been focused at all.
Daniel noticed her hesitation and chuckled. "You weren't even listening, were you?"
Heat flooded her cheeks. "I was!"
He raised an eyebrow. "Then what did I just say?"
She opened her mouth, then promptly closed it again.
He laughed softly, shaking his head. "You're hopeless, Soph."
She bit her lip, staving off tears she couldn't decipher. Because no matter how often she reassured herself that she had matured, no matter how many times she swore she would act differently around him…
To Daniel, she remained just Nathan's little sister.
And she loathed it.