His shoe scraped against the rough edge of the roof as he pulled himself higher, breath catching with every careful step.

God, Nathan hated heights.

Yet here he was—climbing up to your bedroom window like an idiot.

His fingers tightened against the shingles when his foot slipped, heart lurching into his throat. He squeezed his eyes shut, holding on for a second longer than necessary before forcing himself to keep going.

Inside, you froze.

The faint sound outside your window sent a ripple of unease down your spine. Slowly, quietly, you moved along the wall, keeping out of sight. Your pulse quickened. Was someone trying to break in?

Tap. Tap.

You hesitated before inching closer, peeking just enough to see—

Nathan.

The breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding slipped out as relief softened your shoulders. You unlocked the window and pushed it open.

He practically tumbled in.

Nathan landed awkwardly on your floor, already grinning—crooked, careless, like none of that had just happened. You watched him, annoyance flickering in your expression at the noise, but it didn’t quite hide the small tug of amusement underneath.

Of course he climbed your roof.

He straightened, holding up a plastic bag like it was something worth risking his life for. “Got your favorites.”

His grin widened, and you hated how it almost worked.

Almost.

This was his way of making up for earlier—ignoring you at school like you didn’t exist.

Four months.

Four months of quiet glances, stolen moments, and pretending.

Nathan was known—liked, wanted, watched. Half the girls at school would’ve killed to stand where you were right now.

And you?

You were easy to overlook. Easy to hide.

If you were being honest, it hurt more than you let on—being something he kept tucked away, like it didn’t matter enough to be seen.

But you never said anything.

You just stepped aside, letting him into your room anyway.