Lies Beneath the Cherry Tree

chapter 17

I wake up slowly, the morning light softly filtering through the curtains. For a moment, I just lie there, savoring the warmth of the blanket around me. Then, the memories of last night flood back, and my heart gives a small, excited flutter.

Turning my head, I see Nathan sleeping on the couch, his form curled up peacefully. He looks so different like this—relaxed, almost serene. I smile to myself, remembering how he kissed me last night but didn’t push for anything more. There’s something so endearing about his respectfulness, and I feel my feelings for him deepening.

Quietly, I slip out of bed, careful not to wake him. I want to steal a moment alone to process everything, but as I head downstairs, I notice a note on the kitchen counter in Sean’s familiar messy handwriting. “Had to leave early for football practice. See you later.” I shrug it off, tucking the note away. Sean has always done his own thing.

I’m about to start making breakfast when I hear soft footsteps behind me. Turning, I see Nathan descending the stairs, his hair tousled from sleep, and a sleepy smile on his face. He looks ridiculously handsome, even in his half-awake state, and my heart does a little flip.

“Morning,” I say, trying to sound casual, but there’s a warmth in my voice I can’t quite hide.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” he teases, his voice still rough with sleep. He walks over to me, his presence filling the kitchen with an ease that catches me off guard. “What are you doing up so early?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” I reply, but my words come out more playful than intended. There’s something about being around him that makes me feel lighter.

Nathan chuckles, shaking his head. “I thought I’d make us some breakfast. You sit down—I’ve got it.”

“Nathan, you don’t have to,” I start to protest, but he gives me a look that’s both stern and affectionate.

“Sit,” he orders, pointing to a chair. His tone is firm, but the smile tugging at his lips makes it clear he’s not really mad.

I can’t help but smile as I settle into the chair, watching him move around the kitchen with surprising ease. There’s something mesmerizing about the way his muscles flex under his t-shirt as he reaches for ingredients, how he moves with such quiet confidence. It’s strange to think that just a few weeks ago, he was the broody, distant guy who barely spoke to me. Now, he’s here, making me breakfast like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Nathan glances over at me every now and then, and every time our eyes meet, it sends a little thrill through me. He’s making sandwiches, his hands deftly assembling them with a kind of practiced skill that makes me wonder how many times he’s done this before.

Finally, he walks over, placing a plate in front of me. But before I can thank him, he leans down and presses a soft kiss to my forehead. “Eat up,” he says, his voice low and warm, the intimacy of the moment wrapping around us like a cocoon.

I pick up my sandwich, but it’s hard to focus on eating. My eyes keep drifting back to Nathan, admiring the way his hair catches the light, the way his jawline is just a little more defined in the morning. There’s something about him that’s so… magnetic. And the fact that he’s being so sweet, so attentive, only makes me fall harder.

Nathan catches me staring and smirks, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “What’s on your mind, Lyllea?”

I feel my face heat up, and I quickly look down at my plate. “Nothing,” I mumble, but the lie is obvious. He knows it, too, because he doesn’t look away, waiting for me to continue. I sigh, deciding to just be honest. “I guess I’m just… surprised.”