Sophia Thomas had always known two things about Daniel Harper.
First, that he was her brother Nathan's best friend — the golden boy everyone adored.
And second, that she was hopelessly, quietly, desperately in love with him.
She was twelve when it started. Not the kind of love little girls declared out loud or scribbled into notebooks with hearts around names. No, this was something quieter — the kind that lived in stolen glances, in the way her heart thudded louder whenever he walked into a room.
Nathan was three years older than Sophia, and Daniel was another year ahead of him. That made Daniel seventeen when Sophia first noticed him — tall, broad-shouldered, effortlessly cool in his worn leather jacket and easy smile. He was everything a teenage girl dreamed of: confident, handsome, kind without trying too hard.
And to him?
She was just "Nathan's little sister."
That phrase followed her like a shadow every time they were together. At family dinners, at weekend hangouts, even at Nathan's college graduation party where she stood awkwardly by the punch bowl while Daniel laughed and toasted with friends.
"Hey, Soph," he'd say, ruffling her hair like she was still ten instead of fifteen. "You growing yet? Or are you still hiding behind your brother?"
She hated how much she loved the way he said her name.
Tonight, though, was different.
Daniel had come home for summer break, and Nathan had insisted he help tutor Sophia in math. She wasn't bad at it — not really — but Nathan said she needed extra help if she wanted to get into the honors track next year.
So here she was, sitting at the kitchen table with a notebook open in front of her, waiting for Daniel to walk through the door.
The sound of laughter reached her ears before she saw him — deep and warm, trailing in with the scent of summer air and cologne. Then he appeared in the doorway, wearing faded jeans and a white t-shirt that clung just enough to show off the shape of his shoulders.
Her stomach did that familiar flip.
"Ready for some math magic?" he asked, flashing her a grin as he dropped his backpack on the chair across from her.
Sophia nodded, swallowing hard. "Yeah."
He sat down, pulling out a pen and flipping open her textbook. "Alright, let's see what we're dealing with."
For a moment, there was silence except for the scratching of his pen as he skimmed the problems. Then he looked up, brow furrowed.
"You got these ones wrong," he said, pointing to a row of equations.
"I know," she admitted, staring at her hands. "I tried, but I didn't understand how to do them."
"Well, don't worry," he said gently. "I'll explain it until you do."
His voice was calm, patient — nothing like the teasing tone he used around Nathan and their friends. And somehow, that made her heart beat faster.
As he explained the steps, she found herself watching him more 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 smell his shampoo — clean and woodsy.
"Got it now?" he asked, looking at her expectantly.
She blinked. "Uh… yeah. Totally."
He grinned. "Good. Let's try one together."
She picked up her pencil and leaned forward, copying the problem onto her page. But halfway through, she realized she hadn't been paying attention at all.
Daniel caught her hesitation and chuckled. "You weren't even listening, were you?"
Heat rushed to her cheeks. "I was!"
He raised an eyebrow. "Then what did I just say?"
She opened her mouth, then closed it again.
He laughed softly, shaking his head. "You're hopeless, Soph."
She bit her lip, fighting back tears she couldn't explain. Because no matter how many times she told herself she'd grown up, no matter how many times she swore she'd be different around him…
To Daniel, she was still just Nathan's little sister.
And she hated it.