Page 8 of Ruining Hattie

HATTIE

A s I walk toward the entrance of the café, I second-guess myself for probably the thousandth time. Should I be here? I don’t even know this man.

Then I remember how he said it was lonely being in a town that wasn’t his own, and I get that feeling in my chest because I know that exact feeling. Still do, if I’m honest.

So here I am, going to meet a man I had a brief encounter with last week and don’t really know much about.

But we’re meeting in public, so really, there’s no harm.

I walk in five minutes early and find Bastion already seated in the lounge area. He spots me as soon as I enter, and the look of relief on his face when he raises his hand in hello lets me know I wasn’t the only one who was nervous the other might not show up.

I gesture to the counter, indicating that I’m going to order my drink, but he holds up a steaming mug. With a smile, I approach him.

He looks more at ease than he did last week. His hair is a little messy and his clothes show off that he must work out every day. He’s so attractive, and I hate that I wonder what he wants with me.

“I grabbed your drink already. Figured since I invited you here to meet me, the least I could do is pay for your hot chocolate.”

I sit across from him and set my purse next to me. “You remembered what I drink?”

He shrugs. “I remembered thinking how interesting it was that you had a hot chocolate this time of year, when most people would be drinking a coffee or tea. Or maybe an iced coffee.”

“I don’t like coffee.” I scrunch up my nose at the thought of sipping the bitter drink.

Bastion smiles and raises his glass. “Thankfully, I don’t suffer from the same affliction.”

I chuckle and lean forward to pick up the hot chocolate. “Thank you for the hot chocolate.”

“My pleasure.”

There’s a beat of awkward silence. As always with someone I don’t know well, I’m not sure how to fill it. Thankfully, Bastion saves me from having to figure it out.

“How was your day at work?” He brings his coffee to his lips and sips.

“Nothing exciting.” I shrug. “The usual.”

“Is that how you like it?” He tilts his head, and it causes a lock of his hair to fall down over his forehead.

“What do you mean?”

“Not exciting.”

“Oh, um… I’ve never really thought about it. I suppose I’m a bit of a creature of habit. What about you?”

He thinks my question over, and I like that he doesn’t just give me some pat answer. “My life was very eventful for many years. These days, I prefer most things to be predictable and easy. I think there’s still room for some excitement, though.” He winks.

It takes me a moment to understand his innuendo, and when I do, my eyes widen and I feel my face heat. “How… how about you? How are things going here in town? What exactly is it you’re doing again?”

He leans back in his seat and crosses his legs, resting his ankle on his opposite knee. “I won’t bore you with the details, but essentially I’m looking for somewhere to invest my money.”

I get the sense that whatever reason he’s here in town is private. I certainly don’t want to pry and have him thinking that I’m trying to figure out his financial situation.

“Did you grow up here in town?” Bastion asks before I can respond.

I shake my head and set the mug down when it grows too hot against my palm. “No, I grew up in Tennessee.”

“What made you move here?”

My mouth twists as I consider how much to tell him, but there’s no harm in him knowing all of it.

It’s not a secret or anything. “My dad was in a car accident about four years ago, and though he’s okay now, it took a long time for him to recover.

He still walks with a cane as a result of his injuries. ”

Bastion frowns. “I’m sorry.”

That old familiar ache in my chest when I remember that night returns—when I wasn’t sure that he’d make it, and then when I knew he’d survive, listening to the doctor describe the extent of his injuries.

“He worked really hard to recover, but it took a long hospital stay and a lot of surgeries and rehab afterward. Once he had the all-clear to return to work, he started looking for a new job that paid more than the one he had.” When Bastion gives me a questioning look, I explain.

“My parents were left with a lot of medical debt as a result of the accident. So when he was offered a good job here, it just made sense for them to relocate.”

“And you followed?” He lifts the mug to his lips.

“That probably makes me sound like a child, doesn’t it? I’d finished college by then.” I look down at my hands on my lap.

“It makes you sound like a woman who loves her parents very much.” There’s a slight edge to his voice. Maybe he doesn’t have a good relationship with his parents.

I meet his gaze. “They’re the most important thing in the world to me, so yeah, I followed. Got a job here, and I do what I can to help them pay the bills.” I shrug.

He blinks several times, almost as though he’s surprised. “That’s very generous of you.”

“I do what I can.”

Bastion nods slowly.

“So all that to say, I’ve only lived here for a few years myself.” I take a sip of my hot chocolate, cradling it between my hands.

“Do you like it here?”

I sigh because I’m not sure I know the answer to that question.

“I take it that’s a no?” He arches an eyebrow, which I’ve found is something he does quite often.

“It’s not that, it’s just…” Do I explain to this man, whom I enjoy talking to, how awkward I can be?

Is that going to ruin the entire thing that’s happening between us?

Is there something happening? I inwardly sigh.

I’m not meant to do things like I am right now.

Then I remember Taylor telling me to own who I am and not pretend to be someone I’m not, so I do.

“I’m sure you’ve noticed that I can be a little socially awkward. ”

He shakes his head. “No. You’ve been great company both times we’ve chatted.”

My face heats again, and I say a small prayer that Bastion can’t tell that I’m blushing. “I don’t make friends easily, so moving here has been somewhat… isolating.” I shrug, not wanting to make it a big deal.

“I find that surprising,” he says. “Have you tried joining any clubs or community organizations? What about church?”

I bring my mug to my mouth and take a sip.

“I do attend church, have most of my life, but if I’m honest, I miss my old church.

The people at my current church are wonderful,” I’m quick to add, “but most of them have been here their whole lives. I can’t help but feel a little like I don’t belong, no matter how nice they are to me. ”

“What about dating apps?”

I give him a horrified look. “I’ve seen enough videos online to know they’re not for me.”

“I probably shouldn’t have assumed that you don’t have a boyfriend. It’s just that you mentioned feeling isolated, so if you do… I have to say, I don’t think he’s a very good one.”

We both laugh. It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask him if he has a girlfriend, but I can’t bring myself to do it.

“No, no boyfriend.” Rich’s face flashes through my mind, and I push away the mental image. “Anyway, suffice to say this town is lovely. I think I would just enjoy it more if I could get out of my head and find a group of friends to enjoy it with.”

“Makes sense. Do you follow football?”

His sharp change in topic jars me for a moment, but I appreciate him offering me the out. “I do, actually.”

“So are you a Titans or Packers fan?”

I can’t help but laugh. We talk about football and our predictions for when the season starts in a few months, then we move on to discussing other things. Bastion tells me a story about him and his sister attending a party in high school.

The story makes me curious how old he is, but again, I don’t ask.

Before I’m ready, he collects our empty mugs to return to the counter, saying that he’d better be going. Something like panic grips my chest. It’s been so nice spending time with him, talking and connecting over regular things, and the idea of not getting to do it again feels crippling.

“Will you be back in town next week?” I ask, standing as well. I try to keep my voice casual, but I’m pretty sure I don’t succeed.

His smile makes his deep blue eyes sparkle with satisfaction. “I will.”

Oh no, he’s going to make me ask, isn’t he? My face heats, and though I feel awkward as heck, I know I’ll regret it if I let him leave here without asking.

“Would you like to meet up next week?” I hold my breath as I wait for his answer.

Holding both mugs in one hand, he steps forward and squeezes my elbow. “I’d really like that, Hattie. I’ll see you then.”

And with that, he heads over to the counter, leaving the empty mugs with the girl who works here, and walks out the door. Again, without a backward glance.

The spot where his skin briefly touched mine is still warm as I make my own exit a couple of minutes later.