We’re not technically dating, and she made it pretty clear that she wasn’t ready for that, but why would she want to meet my mom if she wasn’t interested in me that way? Maybe it’s overly optimistic on my part, but I’m choosing to see it as a sign that she’s at least somewhat open to this thing between us eventually becoming more than just a friends-with-benefits situation.

“Well, I’ve been thinking about flying her out here for one of our games soon, so maybe you’ll get the chance.”

She seems flustered, and I notice her hand shaking a little as she tucks a loose lock of her hair behind her ear, but she smiles and nods. “That’s super sweet. I definitely want to meet her if you want me to.”

“She’s gonna love you, I can already tell. But then again, who wouldn’t?” Her blush deepens, but before I can say anything else, my stomach growls, distracting both of us. “I don’t know about you, but I worked up an appetite. Do you want to grab a bite to eat?”

She grimaces. “I want to, but I have some admin work to do that I promised the owner I’d have finished today.” My heart squeezes a little with disappointment, but then she quickly adds, “It shouldn’t take me long. You could wait for me, if you have the time to wait and wouldn’t mind.”

I beam at her. “I’ll wait for you as long as it takes.”

The words hang in the air between us like some sort of charge is keeping them suspended, and her breath catches as our gazes lock. I didn’t mean for what I said to hold so much meaning, but I can’t deny that I meant every single word.

“O-okay,” she stammers. “You can come into the office with me while you wait if you want. The work I have to do is super boring, so I can’t promise it will be entertaining, but I’ll be as quick as I can.”

“Works for me.”

She nods and heads for the office, so I follow her inside. There’s a sliding glass window that looks out into the main area of the studio, so I have some idea of what it looks like, but I’ve never actually been inside it before.

It’s much smaller than I thought it would be, with just a few file cabinets and a small desk set by the back wall. A computer sits on top of the desk, and Hannah pushes the chair back and sits down.

Her fingers glide across the computer’s keyboard as she enters her password to log in, and I stand in the doorway to the office with my hands on the frame above it, watching her.