Chapter 2 Two - The Encounter

The parking lot of the store is empty and I'm starting to wonder if it's even open.

The lights are on but maybe whoever was supposed to close the place down forgot to shut everything off. Still, I head to the door.

Once I'm under the covered walkway, I shake and wipe off the snow from my coat, wiggling a little when some flakes fall down my scarf. Shit, it's cold.

As I walk toward the door, it swings inward. Yes, open! I can't remember the last time I stepped foot into a grocery store. If I need anything, I have it delivered, or my maid brings my groceries when she comes every week.

When I think about not running my errands, I know it's frivolous, but it saves on a headache. It's not always easy walking freely around. If it's not the paparazzi taking your pictures, it's the tour busses pointing you out.

If one fan screams, they all come running. If one fan tries to act nonchalant while attempting to take a selfie, other notices, and then they want one, and the next, and the next.

I appease them all because it's in my nature to be a good guy, and I figure if I'm out and about and they ask nicely, why not? Most of my peers aren't this way and I get it.

Like tonight, I want to be the Bostonian who grew up outside of Fenway park, waiting for a foul ball or an elusive out-of-the-park homerun.

Still, to this day, I haven't caught one, but I have thrown out the first pitch there. I don't want to be the guy the tabloids slam every chance they get or bombard at dinner.

If someone is respectful and waiting for me outside, I'm happy to oblige most of their requests. Inside, the store is as quiet as the empty parking lot.

Someone is working at the customer service desk and I can faintly hear a machine, possibly cleaning the floors. I keep my head down as I walk the aisles, looking for the beer section.

When I finally happen upon it, I'm lost. When did so many beers become available?

"I need to get out more. Be more human," I mutter to myself. I stop in front of the IPAs and look over each brand and each flavor.

Every few bottles, I pick one up and read the label, checking for the alcohol content. The last thing I want to do is get blitzed out of my mind and have to stagger home.

The machine I heard earlier comes down the aisle I'm standing in. It is cleaning the floors. I keep myself inside the open door and continue to look at the beers.

Each time I think I found one I'll like, I spot another one and another one.

"So many choices." Is this a sign I should drink more?

Or should I go with the old standby of some domestic brand? Yeah, that's probably a good idea, but tonight, I want to branch out. I think I have it narrowed down to three beers.

I hold the three bottles awkwardly in my hands, while my knee keeps the cooler door ajar. I play Eeny, Meeny, Miney, and Moe in my head while trying to decide which one is going out with me. It shouldn't be a hard decision, but it is.

Natalie's [POV]

Of all the times for a massive snowstorm to hit Boston, it had to be on my only day off. Not to mention it's New Year's Eve. I blow out a breath and watch the steam billow from my lips.

Tightening up my heavy winter coat, I start walking down the street. I've trudged countless miles in the snow, but nothing as crazy as tonight.

It's deep already and it's still coming down. I have to admit though, it looks like a winter wonderland.

Usually, I'd drive to Emerson's apartment from mine, but there is no way I can get my little Honda out of the parking garage with all this snow.

Luckily, Emerson and her husband live only five blocks away, so it isn't a long haul. We were supposed to go bar hopping to bring in the New Year, but with the crazy winter weather, Emerson and Callum decided to have some friends over, which is fine with me.

Emerson and I met in nursing school and we've been best friends ever since. I was her maid of honor when she married Callum a couple of years ago and now that I'm divorced, he has been trying to set me up constantly.

I'm curious to see who he's lined up for me to meet tonight. So far, none of his previous setups have worked out. It's probably for the best anyway.

To be honest, I'm not ready to date again. Learning to trust someone is exhausting. The wind whips all around me and I suck in a breath.

The air is so cold against my face. I'm glad I didn't have to dress up and wear my heels, which is why I settled on wearing the pair of skinny jeans with a black sweater I bought myself for Christmas along with a new pair of snow boots.

Trying to hike through snow in heels would probably have landed me in the hospital. That's the last place I want to be since it's where I work.

Being an ER nurse is an adventure and I love it, but I'm glad to get away for a night. After my divorce, I took on extra shifts to keep myself busy. I can only blame myself for not having a social life.

I can stop the extra shifts any time I want to, but I've gotten so used to working them. Since Alec was the one who stepped out on me, I was granted half of everything, but I settled for our penthouse instead.

I didn't want anything of his, but our home was right by the hospital. I'm able to walk to work every day, which I love being able to do.

Unfortunately, I'm a twenty-eight-year-old divorcee and I have to live with that title. I'm embarrassed to admit it when my patients ask if I'm married. I feel stupid every single time.

I met Alec when I first started working at the hospital and he was just out of medical school.

The man was smart and funny which is what attracted me to him, but sadly, he wasn't smart enough to keep his dick in his pants.

I caught him and another nurse playing doctor in one of the empty patient rooms.

After that, Alec had the sense to transfer to a different hospital. There is no way I could work near him after what he did. All of that happened a year ago, but now it's the beginning of a new year.

Thank God for that. I think I've been asked about a million times what my resolutions are. The answer's simple make better choices.

Easier said than done, I know, especially when it comes to chocolate and working too much. I need to make better choices in general, in all aspects of life.

However, I think I'm going to hold off on that until after New Year's Day. It's the first New Year's I've ever had off work.

I want to make the best of it and drink to my heart's content and eat whatever I want. I even packed a bag of clothes so I could stay over at Emerson's.

The last thing I want to do is walk home in the middle of the night in frigid temperatures. My phone rings and I fumble to get it out of my coat pocket.

I look to see who it is, and Emerson's name is on the screen.

"Hey," I answer.

"Hey, girl. You on your way?" The snow feels like it's getting deeper.

"Yep. My legs are getting a workout. I hate to see what it's going to be like when I try to walk home tomorrow morning."

It usually only takes me about ten minutes to walk to her apartment building, but I've only made it past one block, and it's been over ten minutes. Emerson giggles.

"Callum and I will walk with you. I, for one, will need the exercise. You wouldn't believe how much food I have here. We're going to be pigging out all night." My stomach growls.

"Can't wait. I'll probably eat more than I drink."

"You and me both. I'll start my diet in a couple of days."