Steve lets out a beleaguered sigh as he imagines the severe taunting that his best friend will give him for this. They may not actively dislike each other anymore, but they sure haven’t stopped roasting each other to hell and back.

He looks over at Maeve and wonders if he overreacted, or if he’s too much in his own head. Maeve is more mature than most people he meets that are around his age.

“It just seemed like an important line for me to draw,” he says, trying to explain. He spends so much time around kids, both in Hawkins and here, but Maeve isn’t a kid. She’s far from being a kid, and it isn’t fair of him to treat her like one.

He sighs and scrubs his hands over his face before looking over at her again, feeling the corner of his mouth quirk into a smile.

“Not anything?” He asks, shifting a bit closer to her. She smells so good. He wants to kiss her again, but he wonders if maybe he missed his chance. “What if I took you to dinner? Someplace casual. Paper napkins only.”