You know that feeling when the more you get to know someone, the more you want to know.
Her name was Jennifer. But she told me to call her Jenn.
The kind of name that makes you feel like you’ve known her forever.
We were already kickboxing partners, but one afternoon on my lunch break, I ran into her outside a boba spot near my job.
And it turned out she worked right around the corner… in tech, too, but with a different company.
She smiled like it was fate, and I couldn’t help but think maybe it was.
She paid for my lunch that day.
I told her she didn’t have to. She smiled and said, “I wanted to.”
And I don’t know why, but I was a little more than flattered. Like… warm all over.
We sat outside, just talking. I noticed things I hadn’t before.
Her dragon sleeve was covered with bold, black-and-gray ink wrapping around her right arm with delicate detail.
The tattooed hand was on her left.
She told me she worked weekends at a tattoo shop for fun. “It keeps me balanced,” she said, brushing it off like that wasn’t the coolest thing I’d ever heard.
I loved spending time with her.
Not the way I love being with friends. Not exactly. It felt… different.
Like a window opened, and fresh air rushed in.
I found myself craving more and more of her stories, of her laughter, of the way she looked at me like I wasn’t hiding.
And somewhere between conversations about life and late-night playlists, I realized I wanted to know everything about her.
Where she grew up. Her favorite food. Why she doesn’t date men.
What her first heartbreak was. What makes her smile the way she does, even when the world is heavy.
She never made me feel uncomfortable. She never even crossed a line.
But something inside me was shifting, and I didn’t know what to do with it.
Was it just a harmless admiration?
Or was it something I was finally ready to admit?
I don’t know, but if you have any advice or helpful tips to help me or anyone else navigate these feelings, I’d love to hear them in the comments, or you can share your story in the forum.