“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
Tentatively, Brandon pulls the door open and ushers us inside with a hand on my lower back—that act sends tingles spreading through my body.
The outside world is muted as we step inside this classic Philadelphia pizza spot. As soon as the hostess is back, we’re taken to a cozy two-seater table along the window. The worn brown table shows years of love with scrapes from silverware and rings from cups without coasters. Moments afterwe’re settled in, a server comes over with two waters before leaving us to look at the menu.
“So what brought on the dietary choice?” Brandon asks after we’ve both decided what to get.
“Honestly, I don’t know,” I tell him when he looks at me like I’m odd. “I just hated the bleh feeling after eating, so I decided to give it a go and I ended up liking it. But I’ll still indulge from time to time and it looks like today is that day.”
“I’m honored. Plus, it tells me a little more about you.”
“You should be,” I say with a soft smile and hope the lighting in here hides the blush I feel spreading across my cheeks. “So, the marketing? What’s that all about?”
Our waitress chooses that moment to pop back over to take our orders: a small pepperoni and veggie pizza for me on gluten-free crust and a medium meat-lovers pizza for Brandon.
“I guess I should ask if you know what I do for work?”
I grimace and shake my head.
“I’m a video game developer,” he tells me.
My head rears back in shock. “That’s so cool.”
“Thanks. Are you a gamer?”
“Not since elementary school, when I would play Mario Kart.” I almost add onwith Liam, but catch myself. Although I’m sure Brandon knows I wasn’t freely playing the game. Sure, Liam wasn’t as obsessed with video games as James was, but like every teenage boy, a video game console was a staple in his room.
“Fair. Well, the reason I asked about marketing is because I have a game launching soon. And part of the launch schedule is marketing. Unfortunately, I’m terrible at it,” he explains to me, and in that, I see a hidden nerd who’s also afraid of sticking himself out there.
“How soon is soon?” I ask and play with my straw wrapper.
“Six-ish months,” he replies with a shrug.
“What’s in it for me?” I implore, even though I know I’ll say yes.
Brandon takes a sip of his drink, surveying me as if he didn’t expect me to bargain. “Seeing my smiling face every week.”
“Tempting.”
The waitress comes back over to our table to drop off our food. The smells hit me and I have to stop myself from moaning.
I weigh Brandon’s offer. Apart from the two summer classes, the lack of piano lessons, playing piano when I get the motivation to do so, and working at the TapHouse—most of my days are free. So why am I hesitating to say yes to his offer to help promote his game?
My routine, mainly. It keeps me from spiraling. One of the things my therapist has encouraged me to do is to slowly disrupt my routine. This—being around Brandon for more than a few hours doing something not in my daily routine—would be the disruption I need. On the one hand, maybe working on the marketing for his game will help me get out of my musical rut. I mean, I’m a creature of habit, but maybe this could work.
But something else is holding me back. Something I’ve never been able to put a name to. Is it feelings? It’s not a crush. What I do know is that all rational thought seems to fly straight out of the window whenever he’s near and I’ve yet to decide if that’s a good or bad thing.
“So have you overthought it yet?” Brandon asks as he wipes off his hands and mouth.
My pizza falls out of my hands and I look up at him with wide eyes. “Huh?”
“Overthought why it’s a bad or a good idea that you should help me with marketing.”
I feel my head turn as he accurately reads me. “I’vethoughtabout it,” I correct with a smile, emphasizing the word.
“And?”
