“I’m envious. I’ve never been great with numbers.”
I can’t help but smile. “I’ve always liked numbers. They just make sense to me. I like that math has one answer and it’s straightforward. You just follow a series of steps to find it. There’s little room for error.”
“I’m more of a people person myself.”
A small laugh slips from my lips. “Now that’s something I’ve never been good at.”
Bastion tilts his head. “What?”
“People. I’ve never been good at figuring them out, their motivations. I tend to take people at face value.” I shrug. “It’s burned me before.” I swallow back the shame when Rich’s face flashes in my mind.
Bastion leans back in his seat and crosses his legs so that his ankle rests on his opposite knee. “Do tell.”
My eyes widen. Not a chance am I telling this stranger about Rich. The only person in this world I ever told about what went down was Taylor. “I’d rather not.”
He raises both hands. “Fair enough.” Bastion reaches for his coffee again. “So what passes for fun around here?”
I shift uncomfortably and reach for my own drink, just to give my hands something to do. “I’m not sure I’m the best judge of that.”
After he sips his coffee, he sets it down again, while I continue to hold my mug with both hands in front of me.
“Why do you say that? You’re what…” His eyes rake up and down me, and I glance away. “In your early twenties?”
“Twenty-four,” I say, mustering the courage to meet his gaze again.
“I’d think you’d know where all the fun places are around here.”
I wish my chest didn’t pinch at the reminder of how empty certain parts of my life are. Bastion has unknowingly shot an arrow right at the tender part of me.
“Remember the part about me not being good with people?”
He nods.
“A by-product of that is me not having much of a social life,” I say.
He nods knowingly, lips pressed together. “Most people are overrated anyway.”
When he winks at me, rather than looking away this time, I smile.
“What exactly brings you to Wisconsin?” I lean back into the couch and shift to my side, tucking my legs up on the cushion, but I still momentarily when something like anger flashes in hiseyes. It’s only for the briefest of moments, there and gone so quickly I’m not even certain I saw it in the first place.
“I’m considering some investment options in the area.” Before I can dig any further into what that means, he says, “I’ve seen a bunch of advertisements around town for some Lake…” He shakes his head as though he can’t remember the name.
I fill in the blank for him and tell him what the tourist destination has to offer. We chat for a while longer about nothing of much consequence, but I notice that the more we talk, the less awkward I grow. I’m sure that’s not uncommon, but it’s unusual for me to be this comfortable, this fast.
Maybe there’s hope for me yet.
Bastion finishes his coffee and picks the empty mug up off the table and shifts to the edge of his seat. I try to ignore the disappointment pushing against the inside of my rib cage at his impending departure.
“I need to be going, but I’ll be in town again next week. Would you care to meet up?”
Something in my subconscious screams at me to say no even though I’ve enjoyed our conversation. But at the same time, the flicker of excitement that rushes through my veins every time I cause his lips to lift in a small smile feels somehow addicting.
When I don’t immediately answer, he says, “If the idea makes you uncomfortable, I apologize. It’s just that it can be lonely being away from home. I thought we had some good conversation, that’s all.”
He understands what it feels like to be alone too. My chest squeezes.
We’re in public at a coffee shop. It’s not as though he’s asking me to meet him in his hotel room. There’s no danger here. What’s the harm in enjoying this small amount of spontaneous adventure life has thrown my way?
