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Next Morning

Sunlight poured through the tall windows of the Morales rental house, casting a golden glow over the kitchen. It was exactly 8:00 AM, the morning after Matteo’s restless night filled with unwanted thoughts about his brother’s girlfriend. Santiago had already left at dawn for his ergometer test at the boathouse, closing the door quietly behind him. The house was unusually still, a silence that should have felt comforting.

Except it wasn’t empty.

Sadie Collins sat sideways on a tall barstool at the granite island, barefoot, her toes curled around the rung as if she belonged there. She had settled into the house quickly, almost like a stray cat finding the sunniest spot. A stack of worn organic chemistry flashcards was spread out in front of her. She ate vanilla-scented cereal between turns, the quiet broken only by the soft crunch.

She wasn’t hiding today. No oversized Stanford sweatshirt covered her. Instead, she wore a simple white ribbed tank top that hugged her hourglass figure, showing the gentle lines of her shoulders and collarbones. Santiago’s large grey sweatpants hung low on her hips, the legs pooling around her ankles. The contrast made her look small and comfortable. Morning light highlighted the lotion on her skin and the freckles across her nose beneath her glasses. She looked relaxed, content, and a little dangerous.

Matteo came down the stairs, his dark hair messy from sleep, still wearing the same black tank top and faded jeans from the night before. He felt exhausted, but the self-loathing inside him was worse. With each step, he repeated to himself: She’s Santiago’s. She’s off-limits. She’s the annoying pre-med roommate. He walked into the kitchen, hoping to find it empty.

Instead, he walked straight into the visual minefield.

His dark brown eyes landed on her before he could stop himself, her shoulders, the line of her collarbone, the way her tank top fit. He noticed the faint outline of her nipples through the cotton in the cool air. A rush of adrenaline hit him, his body reacting before he could control it. The scent of her vanilla lotion and cereal filled the air. He clenched his jaw tightly.

She is Santiago’s. She is off-limits. She is the annoying pre-med roommate.

He forced himself to look away, focusing on the stainless-steel espresso machine as if it could save him. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the counter, the cool stone pressing into his palms. Even from three feet away, he felt every movement she made. He fought the urge to turn and look, breathing deeply, the air thick with guilt and longing.

Sadie didn’t notice. She never did. She simply flipped another flashcard, the glossy cardstock whispering against the granite, and took another bite of cereal. Spoon softly against the bowl. “Morning, Matteo,” she said casually, voice light and melodic, still not looking up. “Just a heads up, the espresso machine is acting weird. You have to hold the lever down for an extra three seconds, or it sputters like it’s mad at you.”

He barely heard her words. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her lean forward to reach a highlighter. She stretched across the island, her back arching naturally. Her tank top pulled tight, showing a bit of her stomach as her sweatpants slipped lower on her hips. The movement was innocent, but it left him shaken.

Matteo’s breath caught in his throat. He felt himself react, the denim of his jeans suddenly uncomfortable. Heat rushed to his face and neck. He gripped the espresso machine handle tightly, his knuckles white. Every part of him wanted to look at her again, to imagine touching her, but he forced himself to stay still.

She is Santiago’s. She is off-limits. She is the annoying pre-med

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