TWENTY ONE – BLAIR

Jake and I make Hunter hand over his phone so that we can download Tinder on it. Hunter obliges without putting up a fight. In fact, he seems glad that we’re taking matters into our own hands.

After helping him set up his profile, Jake and I teach him how to use the app. We even swipe right on a few women for him. Hunter appears indifferent to all of them, or at least he doesn’t seem to hate his options. Then Jake gathers everyone around for a quick round of never have I ever to finish off the bottle of tequila before we head out to the club.

Hunter’s mouth drops open just a little when Jessa and I drink in response to Cameron’s remark that never has he ever had a threesome. Jessa and I look at each other before bursting out laughing and explaining that it wasn’t with each other. Cameron looks like he’s proud of his girl, as he smirks and puts his arms around her. Jake and his other friends clap and cheer for us and give us fist bumps out of respect. Hunter closes his mouth and his expression is once again unreadable.

We leave for the club soon afterwards. It’s just past 1AM by the time we all get in and the dance floor is packed to the max.

“I want to dance with you!” Jake screams into my ear over the music. I nod, letting him lead me away from the rest of our group. We lose ourselves to the music, to each other, to the hot and sweaty bodies around us. Soon enough, we’re grinding our bodies on each other, and I feel his boner rubbing my ass from behind. We dance for a bit, then head upstairs to the patio for a break.

“Whew!” I shake my hair in the cool midnight breeze as we step outside. Then I spot Hunter, he’s leaning over the railing and a tall, stunning Asian girl is beside him. She has long black hair and a fit body that must be every guy’s dream. She’s wearing a short jean skirt, tube top and stiletto heels. She’s leaning into him and talking to him. He’s facing away from her, onto the street.

I want to say hi, but Jake grabs my wrist and leads me away, “Leave them be,” he warns me gently. “That’s Sarah, his ex.”

Why is Sarah here?

We head to a corner of the patio, away from Hunter and Sarah.

“Did Hunter ask her to come?” I ask casually.

“I doubt it. But we used to come here a lot together, as a group.”

“She’s really pretty.”

“Meh, she’s alright.” Jake pulls out a pack of cigarettes. “Do you smoke?”

“Not really. I mean, sometimes. Sure, why not.” I take one. Jake lights both of our cigarettes and we smoke side by side, facing the street. Hunter and Sarah are to our right, a few metres away. I look over, but they are engrossed in conversation.

“Be honest with me, is there something going on between you and Hunter?”

I’m surprised by Jake’s question, but I wonder if Hunter told him about our sleeping arrangement. I decide it’s better to be vague. “No, we’re just friends. Honestly.” I pause, “What makes you think there’s something between us?”

“I can’t quite put my finger on it. It’s just a feeling. But I guess I was wrong.” He moves closer to me until our arms are touching. He leans his head down on mine. The air is cool and dry, but the alcohol is making me feel warm from inside. Jake’s arm also feels warm against mine. “So are you dating anyone?”

“Not at the moment, are you?”

“Well, I wouldn’t really call it dating. But I guess you could also say I’m dating lots of people.”

I laugh, “sounds fun. And why haven’t you settled down with any one in particular?”

“I guess I haven’t met the right girl just yet,” he winks at me sloppily. He appears well past the point of tipsy. “What about you?”

“I guess me neither.”

“And you’re definitely not interested in Hunter?” Jake turns to look at me, wanting confirmation.

“No… I don’t know about him but I don’t think he’s my type.”

“Hunter is quiet and reserved. He likes good girls. Family oriented, responsible girls. I say 50/50 he goes back to Sarah. You’re too wild for him, Blair. He can’t handle you.” Jake chuckles and boops my nose playfully. My heart sinks a little at what he’s said. “So what’s your type?”

“Usually I go for guys who are charming and extroverted.”

“Hey, that sounds like me.” Jake grins at me.

“But I’ve never had a serious boyfriend.” I laugh, “isn’t that kind of sad?”

“Maybe it’s time you found someone special, Blair.”

Jake reaches over one hand to push my hair behind my shoulders. He places his hand on my neck and he rubs his thumb in my cheek. We were just having fun earlier on the dance floor, but I didn’t expect him to take things any further and certainly not this fast. I don’t know what to do, and so I let the alcohol act for me. I close my eyes and I’m just about to lean in for a kiss when Jake suddenly says “excuse me”, leans over the railing and throws up.

People around us turn to stare, and that’s when we catch Hunter and Sarah’s attention. Hunter joins us and he grabs Jake by the arm. Sarah stares at us from afar but doesn’t approach us, and leaves shortly after.

“Come on, let’s get you a cab,” Hunter says to Jake, he puts Jake’s one arm around his own shoulders, “Blair, do you mind?” I shake my head. I take Jake’s other arm.

We head back downstairs and out of the club. Luckily the flow of cabs coming and going is rather frequent and we’re able to hail one down for Jake quickly.

“How are you feeling, Blair?” He then turns to me after we’ve sent Jake off. A few drunk guys stumble out of the club entrance and Hunter grabs my hand and pulls me to the side of the building’s entrance, out of the way.

Hunter is standing in front of me, staring intensely into my eyes and holding my hand. I suddenly feel very exposed. I take a tiny step backwards, but there’s nowhere to go and the back of my shoe hits the brick building behind me. The impact surprises me and I stumble a little, pulling Jake with me as I’m about to lose my balance.

Somehow, one of his arms quickly ends up around my waist, and the other one is leaning against the wall behind me supporting the both of us from falling. I inhale and the space between us closes. My body presses against his. Instinctively, my hand runs up, from his waist to his chest. His muscular frame feels so good under the tips of my fingers, even over the cotton t-shirt he’s wearing.

His intense gaze is still on mine, and his mouth is so close that I could feel his breath on my forehead.

Maybe it’s the alcohol talking but…

Shit. Hunter is so fucking hot right now.

TWENTY TWO – HUNTER

Jake and Blair disappear as soon as we get to the club. I order a drink and head to the patio to avoid the horny boys and girls downstairs but it’s almost as crowded as the club.

I stand by the railing, staring out onto the street.

What am I even doing here? Aren’t I too old to be clubbing?

I sigh and ponder my life decisions.

A short girl with brown hair approaches me and taps my shoulder. I think that she is Blair for a second until I see her face. “Hi. Sorry, do you have a cigarette?”

“No, I don’t smoke.”

“Oh, okay. Um… do you want to dance?” She asks timidly.

“Sorry, I’m waiting for my girlfriend.” I just don’t feel like socializing tonight.

As of right on cue, I hear “Hunter!”

It’s Sarah. She’s drunk. She runs over and puts her arms around me. The short brunette walks away, slightly embarrassed.

Sarah gives me a wet kiss on my cheek. She’s too chipper. She clings onto my arm as she tells me about her night. I want her to leave, but I also don’t want to be alone, so I decide to let her stay for a while.

Sarah is going off about her work friend, Marcy, who she’s here with. She tells me about a project they’re working on and complains about their new boss. She doesn’t seem to remember that we broke up.

I sigh and look away for a second. I spot Blair and Jake to my left, a few metres away. They’re standing very close to each other, looking cozy as hell. I wonder what they’re talking about.

“Hunter? Are you even listening to me? Why are you staring at Jake and his girlfriend?” Sarah whines, pulling at my arm.

I pull my arm back. “Sarah, just stop—I’m not your boyfriend anymore. I don’t know what you want from me. Actually, why are you even here?”

The smile drops from her face. Maybe that was too harsh. “To be honest, I found you on Find My Friends… I thought maybe if we came here and bumped into you, we could hang out or something… like just as friends or something…”

I sigh. Somehow I’ve become the bad guy.

Suddenly, the entire patio grows a little quiet. I look around. Everyone is staring at Jake and Blair. It seems Jake puked over the balcony. Thank God for the interruption.

I rush over to them and offer a hand.

It was only after we put Jake into a cab that I suddenly remember I left Sarah upstairs without a word. Whatever, she’s probably long gone by now.

“How are you feeling Blair?” I check in with her, to see if she also needs a cab home.

Some random drunk dudes stumble down the stairs in front of the club and almost knock into Blair. I grab her hand and pull her to the side. I must have made her stumble or trip over something because next thing I know, she loses her balance and almost pulls me down with her. I quickly catch her by the waist and steady my hand against the building wall.

I feel her small body press against mine. She raises her hand between us, but it softly slides up the front of my body on the way up and it makes me shiver. If she stays that way for a second longer, I’m afraid my abs won’t be the only hard thing pressed up against her.

“I’m.. I’m good.” She stutters, looking away from my eyes. I clear my throat and let go of her. She adjusts her dress. For a small woman, her breasts are still quite sizeable, and her tight, low-cut dress certain shows them off. The moody lighting from the lamp post nearby catches on some glitter that’s found its way onto her collar bones. I stare at it for a moment and it suddenly dawns on me that she is so effortlessly beautiful and she’s somehow here, friends with a boring guy like me.

“Did Jake try anything with you?” I cross my arms. “You should be careful with him. He’s a fuck boy and he toys with every woman he’s ever met. You don’t want to get involved with that.”

Blair frowns, “How do you know I don’t want to get involved with that?”

“Why the hell would you?” I insist. “I can’t imagine any girl would want to get played like that.”

I seem to have triggered an inner rage within Blair. “I feel like you’re putting all women on a fucking pedestal. Not everyone wants the same thing okay?” She snaps back, “I’m not a good girl who wants the white picket fence bullshit. Why can’t I just want someone to fuck the shit out of me?”

My eyes widen and my mouth drops open.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing is wrong with that. But just not with Jake, okay? Actually, not with anyone. Except me.

I don’t know if it’s the alcohol, the pheromones in the air we’ve been breathing in all night, or that dress she’s wearing, but I can’t take it anymore. I’ve tried for so long to just be her friend. To sleep beside her without even touching her. To stand by and watch as Jake basically fucked her with his eyes all night.

I met her first, so she’s mine

. I know I’m being unreasonable, and maybe I’m even being irrational. She’s not even my type; I would never go for a girl like Blair in my life. But I’ve also never met a girl like her before. And somehow it all makes me want her even more.

I grab her hand and drag her a few steps away to the side of the building, away from the busy street.

“Is that what you really want, Blair?” Her back is against the wall, and I’m standing in front of her. I take a step closer. Our bodies are no more than an inch away from each other. She inhales sharply almost in a gasp. “Do you just want someone to bend you over and fuck you?”

She big eyes stare into mine. “Yes,” she replies, her tone still as steady and determined as earlier, but something between us has changed. The intensity of her rage has been channeled into something else—lust.

“Do you want someone to make you scream?”

“Yes.” She still has on a brave expression, but her voice is a little quieter. Her beautiful hazel eyes don’t leave mine for a second. She opens her lips to say something, but before anything comes out, my lips are on hers.

She kisses me hungrily, almost as if she’s been wanting to for as long as I have. I press her against the wall with my body. She stands on her toes to kiss me, while her hands move to the back of my head, grabbing me by the hair. I slide one hand in between the deep cut of her dress and caress her breast. I rub my thumb over her nipple and then I pinch her, lightly. Her mouth leaves mine for a second as she lets out a moan.

“Do you want someone to make you beg for their cock?” I whisper into her ear and kiss her neck. I take my hand out of the front of her dress and slide it down her body, looking for a different opening to her bare skin.

“Yes,” she whispers back. I reach inside of her dress from the front, just above her thighs, and I find her delicate, lacy panties. I push it aside and slide my fingers between her. My cock throbs in response when I discover how wet she already is. I move my fingers back and forth slowly, teasing the opening of her lips. She grinds her hips back and forth on my fingers. “Hunter, please, I’m begging you…” her voice trails off as her moans get louder. I look around, thankfully the entrance of the club is still quite rowdy, and the alley way is too dark to tell what I’m doing with my hands, people walking by would probably think we’re just making out.

I slip two fingers inside of her slowly and I feel her pussy contract, holding on to me tight, and I wonder how she would feel on my cock. I push in and out of her, moving with the rhythm of her hips. I try to push another finger inside, but my fingers are too thick and I can’t manage to get another in.

Fuck, she’s so tight.

Her breathing is getting more erratic, with each breath punctuated with an “ah” or “oh fuck” or “Hunter” and I move my fingers faster in response, the palm of my hand stimulating her clit as I go in and out of her. I stop kissing her for a second.

“Do you want someone to make you cum?”

“Yes,” she groans, “I want you to make me cum, Hunter.” I speed up my pace even fast, moving my hand side to side on her clit with two fingers still inside of her. With my other hand, I reach inside of her dress again and twist her nipples lightly between two fingers. Blair’s mouth makes an “o”, her brows are furrowed and her eyes stare into mine with such pleasure and intensity I completely forget where we are. In that moment, it feels like we are the only two people in the entire universe.

She grinds her hips against me, and she grips my cock with one hand, grabbing at the head and rubbing me roughly as she grinds me without breaking our eye contact once. Her expression, her touch, her smell, are all so fucking erotic I’m almost afraid I’m going to cum in my pants.

Suddenly her expression intensifies and her body tenses then convulses on me. She arches her back as she burrows her face into my shirt and tries to muffle her scream as her nails dig into my shoulder, hard. Her walls squeeze my fingers so hard I feel like they’re going numb. Her orgasm is intense and drawn out. I can’t move my fingers at all, but her walls grab me again and again as they twitch and contract upon them.

We stay like that for a bit, Blair still letting little “ah”s escape from her lips against my shirt with each twitch. When I finally take them out and she watches as I lick her wetness off of my fingers. Her mouth finds mine again. She closes her eyes and kisses me softly and passionately this time. I want to take her home and continue what we started here for the rest of the night.

I break away from her kiss and grab her hand. Her small fingers fit perfectly in between mine. I don’t say anything and neither does she. I lead her back to the street and hail a cab.

I feel someone grab my free arm and pull me around so suddenly that I let go of Blair’s hand. “Hunter… home…” it’s Sarah again. She’s bare feet and barely coherent. She throws her purse and heels in my hands and heads straight into the cab I’ve just hailed.

“Where’s Marcy?” I’m slightly annoyed. Sarah doesn’t respond. She just collapses on her side, sprawling out on the backseat. I turn to look at Blair, she doesn’t looks annoyed nor happy.

“She’s my ex.” I explain, “I can’t just leave her like this right…” It’s an honest question. Maybe Blair will disagree and tell me ‘yes, you can!’

“No, of course not, you should take her home,” she insists. She ushers me into the cab with Sarah and closes the door behind us.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” I roll down the window to ask her. I don’t want our night to end just yet.

Blair gives me the okay sign with her hand and bangs twice on the car.

TWENTY THREE – BLAIR

The club is only a few kilometres down the street away from our apartment so I take a streetcar home. The streetcars stop running at 2 AM and there’s always a collective calm about the passengers in the last few rounds. The ambience is almost serene as everyone is usually drunk from a night out or exhausted from a night of work. But tonight, as I’m sat there, my stomach is in knots. There are so many thoughts and emotions running through my mind that I don’t even know where to begin to organize them.

I had had sexual thoughts about Hunter, but what he did to me just earlier was far beyond anything I was capable of imagining. The way he kissed me felt so raw and passionate; the way he touched me so uninhibited yet organic—as if he already knew exactly what my body wanted inside and out before we even made contact. I wanted him so badly, but yet I couldn’t bring myself to tell him not to go.

‘Don’t leave me,’ I wanted to say. But given Sarah’s state of being, that would be too selfish, even by my standards.

I get home, take a shower and crawl into bed exhausted and still frustrated. I stare at my phone and wait for him to text me. Something. Anything. It’s 2:14 AM.

I want to ask if he’s coming back to the apartment tonight. If he’s coming to my bed tonight. I want to ask about what happened earlier and what did it mean? But a part of me feels like I would be intruding.

Maybe Sarah has seduced him and they’re having sex. And then she’s going to get pregnant and then he’ll do the right thing and take her back. Just like how Jake said he would. Just like how Noah did with his ex.

The thought of it makes me sick to my stomach and my heart physically ache. But I’m not even sure why because he’s not even mine. I mean, all he did was give me the best orgasm I’ve had all year, maybe ever, but that doesn’t mean anything for us, does it?

I tap my phone screen again. 2:37. No new notifications. I open his contact info and my finger hovers over the call icon as I contemplate it. I sigh and slam it down on my bed again faced down.

I bury my head in my pillow and try to sleep.

I’m so fucking insecure it’s pathetic. Why can’t I just call him? I don’t know, okay? I don’t know.

…

When I wake up the next morning, the first thing I do is pick up my phone and check my notifications. Nothing from Hunter. I feel like screaming and crying and breaking down his door and fucking him—all at the same time. It feels like I woke up to a bad dream except this is real life. I feel embarrassed and dejected. And the worst part is that I have no right to even be feeling such a way.

And just in that moment, a text comes in from Hunter.

‘Hope you made it home safe.’

Well too late buddy, even if I didn’t make it home safe, it’s not like you can do anything about it now. Oh, and nothing about what happened between us last night. Maybe he just wants to pretend like it never happened? I feel stupid for even waiting for him to text, for even thinking that he would make the trip back for me.

I ignore the text for now. I can’t help but wonder where did he sleep? In his bed with Sarah? It is his house he went to last night, after all.

I feel like I’m being crazy where I have no authority to do so.

I make myself a coffee and knock on his door. No answer. I guess he never came home.

I go back to my apartment and suddenly feel the urge to not be anywhere near there anymore. I check my calendar. It’s only Saturday and I don’t need to give my next lecture until Thursday evening. I unlock my phone again and call my sister, Yuki.

“What?” She greets me abruptly and puts me on speaker phone. I hear her keyboard clacking away in the background.

“Yo what are you doing?”

“Working dude, what else do you think I’m doing?”

“Can I visit you for a bit?”

She stops typing and picks up the phone.

“Oh my god, are you okay? What is it, tell me?!”

“Nothing! I just need mini vaca with free accommodations okay?” I laugh, trying to play it cool with my sister who clearly knows me too well, “Can’t I just come see my big sis for no reason?”

“Ok… like when were you thinking?”

“Like, today?”

“Fine,” she sighs, “Let me know when you land.” Then she hangs up on me without saying goodbye.

I quickly pack a few things in a carry on and head to the small downtown Toronto airport.

TWENTY FOUR – HUNTER

My headache the next morning is a sure sign that I truly am too old to be drinking shots on a Friday night. I groan and turn to my side to pick up my phone from the coffee table. 9:51 AM.

I open up my texts. Shit. My message to Blair didn’t send last night. I click on the little red exclamation mark to resend it.

“Morning,” Sarah says sheepishly as she’s coming down the stairs. “You could have slept in our bed, you know.”

“It’s fine.” I run my hands through my hair awkwardly and sit up on the couch.

“So… do you have any plans for today?” She walks into the kitchen and puts the kettle on. “Do you want tea?”

“I’m fine, thanks. I’m just heading to Jake’s to pick up my bike, then I’ll probably just head home.”

“Oh yeah, was that girl he was with last night his girlfriend? She’s pretty cute.”

“They’re not dating.” I say, a little flatly. “She’s my neighbour. We were drinking at Jake’s and all ended up going out together.”

“Hmm.” Sarah sets her tea down on the coffee table and sits down beside me. “So… have you given some more thought to what I said last time we saw each other?”

“Well, the thing is, Sarah,” I sigh, thinking about how I should let her down, “I think you should move on. I really don’t see a future with you together.”

Sarah nods, holding back tears, and apologizes again. A part of me still loves her and cares about her and wants to comfort her, but another part of me wants her to be strong and stand on her own. I can’t keep giving her false hope about us getting back together.

…

I knock on Blair’s door when I get back to the apartment. There’s no answer. iMessage shows that she read my message, so she must be awake already. I call her, but it goes straight to voicemail.

‘Where are you?’ I press send, and then start typing out ‘Do you want to talk about last night?’ But I decide against sending it and I delete the words from the message box.

I head into my place and put on the TV while I do some chores around the house. I’m neither paying attention to the TV nor to the chores. My head is filled with Blair. Not just having sex with her, but crazily enough, thoughts of just holding her hand, cooking for her, making her laugh, kissing her, and sleeping beside her invades my head as well.

Nearly five hours later, my phone rings.

“Hi Hunter,” Blair shouts into the phone. “You called?” There is a lot of noise in the background. Traffic, people, horns.

“Yeah, I just wanted to know if you got home okay.”

“I did. Well, I’m not home right now, but I did.”

“Where are you?”

“Oh. Um. I’m in New York.”

“What?!” I thought, but out loud. “I don’t remember you mentioning…”

“Yeah, I kind of just… left this morning. It wasn’t planned.”

Does this have anything to do with what happened last night? How could it? I’m thinking too much into it…

“Oh, okay… when will you be back?”

“Wednesday night probably.”

“Okay,” I say. I pause, looking for the courage to ask about what I really wanted to talk about, “so last night—”

“Oh my God, yeah, we were sooo drunk.” She laughs.

So that was all it was to her eh, a drunken encounter.

“Yeah,” I say quickly, “Well, enjoy your time in New York. I’ll see you when you’re back.”

“Hey, now that we’ve got your Tinder profile all set up, you should also enjoy yourself.” She says in a playful voice, “Hmm? You know what I’m saying?”

We say our goodbyes and hang up. Well, at least that clarifies what she thinks about last night. She clearly thinks it was a mistake.

I collapse on the couch, exhausted from a day of distraction-oriented meal prepping and cleaning. I open up Tinder and start swiping.

TWENTY FIVE – BLAIR

I love New York in late summer. By early September, the tourist rush has ended and the bright-eyed summer interns have left the city. A kind of calm sweeps over the city once again as the trains become emptier during the days. The heat dissipates by mid afternoon, and the real New Yorkers become less judge-y and annoyed.

I stare out the window of the Newark to Manhattan express train absentmindedly as we make our approach into Penn Station. There is just something so indescribably exhilarating about this city. The sense of anonymity and liveliness I find in the city always inspires me to be bold and hopeful. And I’m really hoping that confidence will stay with me even after I depart.

It’s just past 4 in the afternoon when I arrive at Penn Station. I only have a small suitcase with me, so I take the F then J to Williamsburg. My older sister, Yuki, lives in a small studio loft in the quickly gentrifying Brooklyn neighbourhood. We are only a year apart in age, but sometimes it feels like we are from completely different generations.

Ironically, despite her job as a software engineer at the United Nations, Yuki lives totally analogue. She recently bought an iPhone 12 mini to replace her iPhone 4 that broke, and she uses it purely for work purposes. She doesn’t use apps… She prefers calling and email to texting… Her entire wardrobe is from Uniqlo… She listens to Jazz… on records… You get the jist of what kind of person she is.

By the time I arrive at her door, it’s early evening.

“Hmm,” I stare at the new keypad on her door that had not been there the last few times I came to visit.

I try 1994, the year she was born, and the door opens.

“Jesus Christ! Didn’t I tell you to call me when you land?!” Yuki screams at me from the second floor of her loft, where she is working from at her desk. “You scared the shit out of me. I thought I was getting robbed.”

“Well maybe you shouldn’t have such an obvious passcode then, you stupid bitch.” I shout back.

We share a bout of silence for the next hour or so as she wraps up with her work. I lay on her couch and get sucked into IG’s aimless infinite scroll. I stumble across a recommended profile that happens to be Hunter’s and can’t help but look through his past photos.

His last post is over a year ago, an indication of how active he is on IG. He has so many photos with Sarah, going back years. So many years of memories and history.

There are photos of them on vacations together, with friends, at weddings, holding hands, holding each other. I can’t help myself but to keep scrolling and scrolling. I finally reach the end. His very first post, from almost 8 years ago.

A photo of young Hunter and Sarah sitting at a bar table together. His arms are around her shoulders. She is in a stunning black dress and he is in a blue dress shirt and a pair of casual pink shorts. His wavy brown hair, a little longer than it is now, covers half his face. His face has a scrunched up expression and he is turned towards her. She is smiling coyly at the camera in a way that girls who know they are hot do so. And there is only one word to describe his stance—love.

The caption reads: never leave my side bb <3

For some reason the photo makes me feel a little sick to my stomach, but I can’t stop staring at them. I zoom in on his face to take a closer look. He is just so handsome and I cannot deny it.

Seeing his face close up brings me back to the previous night again. The feeling of my hands in his soft curls as his breath was hot against my body. The feeling of his wide frame against me, of his thick digits inside of my slick warm pussy and of the explosion inside of me when I came on them. The feeling of his rock hard member against my thigh. Oh how I wish I could take it raw in my hands, my mouth, and deep inside of my core. It’s a shame I hadn’t even gotten the chance to see it. The mystery of what’s beneath those jeans makes me yearn for it even more.

“What the hell are you doing?” Yuki’s voice beside my ear suddenly scares me and I drop the phone on my face.

“Ahh!! What is wrong with you oh my God!” I retort, but in reality I feel like a teenager who is caught watching porn. “When did you even come downstairs?”

“Literally just now. So why are you cyber stalking some dude like a freaking psycho?”

“Ugh,” I roll my eyes and sit up, “I wasn’t stalking him, okay? I just came across his page.”

“Right.” Yuki grabs her wallet from the coffee table. “Come on, I’m starving.”

We make our way to a little hole in the wall taco place that has the tiny corn flour tacos with two shells. You know that they must be authentic if they come with two taco shells. Yuki orders for us and we grab a seat outside.

“So how’s mom?” Yuki asks as we sit down.

“I don’t know, good? I swear you talk to her more than I do.”

“Maybe.” She rests her chin in one hand propped up on the table. “You should really go see her more. You’re so close by.”

“Why? So that she can nag me some more about my bad career choices? Or when I’m going to get married?” I swear the thought of visiting my mother has me going through PTSD symptoms. Especially with such a successful sister, everything I do in life seems to just pale in comparison.

Yuki laughs, “I know right. Can you imagine if she knew about your boyfriend.”

I laugh too, “Nope, I cannot and do not want to. Anyway, I think things are done between us. And please don’t refer to him as my boyfriend. That’s kind of fucked up.”

“Yeah, whatever. I’ll believe it when you have a new guy.”

“Well… there’s this guy.”

“Who, the one you were stalking?”

I tell Yuki about Hunter, about our weird sleeping situation, about how attracted I am to him, about the previous night, and how he left me at the club afterwards.

“So you’re basically just running away. And that’s why you’re here.” Yuki with her infinite wisdom states as-a-matter-of-factly.

“Well, no! I mean, there’s nothing to run away from, technically…”

“I think you’re afraid of rejection. If you really like him, you should go for it. Tell him how you feel.”

I know in the back of my mind that she’s right, but I can’t admit it, not even to myself. “I don’t think it’s that. I mean, I’m not even sure I really like him. I mean, I like spending time with him?” I sigh. “I don’t know. I don’t know!”

“Yeah, you like him.” Yuki says, in between bites of her carnitas taco. “That married guy really fucked with your head. He’s got you all twisted about what a healthy relationship should be like. It’s about high time you ditched him.”

I take another taco from our platter and eat it in silence, contemplating the advice of my ever so wise sister.

My phone lights up with a notification.

Instagram: New Message
Hunter_Ki: did you miss me 😉

Hunter has never texted me anything flirty before. His texts have always been functional—what do you want for dinner? Or what time are you coming over? When I see his message, my heart skips a beat in giddy excitement. In a way that it only would when a text comes in from a subject of infatuation.

Then my heart skips two beats as it dawns on me that I probably liked one of his posts. Which is why he messaged me from Instagram.

Shit shit shit. What did I do?

More importantly, shit shit shit, I think I might actually like this guy.

TWENTY SIX – HUNTER

I’m on the couch, half an hour into In the Mood for Love and already three bourbons along.

I’m on Tinder, swiping along, though my heart isn’t really in it. I have a few matches and a couple messages already.

Kimberley: ‘What’re are you up to, cutie?’

Manda: ‘Hey, you :)’

I click on Kimberley’s profile. Kimberley, 25. ‘Accountant by trade; yogi by heart. Love hiking, cycling, and great food!’

Manda, 22. ‘My beauty is a blessing and a curse.’

Manda seems too immature. I ignore. And Kim seems a little too active for me, but I reply anyway. She’s pretty.

‘Watching In the Mood for Love and drinking alone. Hbu?’ Too gloomy?

‘Sounds like a movie that’s best enjoyed with company ;)’

Touché. I take another sip of my bourbon as I wonder what to reply to that. I do want some company but there’s really only one person on my mind today.

I hit her back with ‘Not just any company ;)’ I mean, at least I’m being honest.

‘Be there in five! Just kidding—but seriously let’s hang out some time x’

‘That sounds like a treat, babe.’

Our conversation seems so shallow. Is this what online dating is like these days? Just shallow back and forths leading up to the meetup and then maybe sex, with someone who is literally a stranger?

I check my notifications and I see one from a couple hours ago, when I must have been cooking dinner.

blairbear liked your photo.

My heart flutters a little bit in my chest when I see her name on my phone. But I don’t remember giving her my IG… I open the app and see that she liked the very first photo I posted. Did she do that ironically to make a point or was it a mistake? Either way, she had to have scrolled that far down to do so.

I click on her page. It’s private. The combination of Tinder and bourbon has put me in a bold mood.

‘Did you miss me ;)’ I hit send before it’s too late to take it back.

‘Am I supposed to?’ blairbear responds within a few minutes.

‘I don’t like to tell women what to do.’

‘Because you so frequently find yourself in a position where you get to do that…’

‘Every so often. But not as often as I’d like…’

‘Please, do share, when would you like to?’

‘Well, sometimes when I’m laying in bed at night the thoughts do cross my mind.’ I don’t even know what we’re talking about anymore, but I can’t deny the sexual tension between our exchange. I just want it to keep going.

‘The thoughts of telling women what to do.’

‘Yes. Among others.’

‘Like what?’

‘Take a guess.’

‘What you’d like to do for them?’

‘Yes, there are lots of things I like to do for women.’

‘With your hands?’

‘I’m a handy man.’

‘Handy or handsy?’

‘Handy’

‘I’ll admit you’re great with your hands.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah I love what you do for me. The precision with which you use them.’

‘And what is it that I’ve done with my hands that has deserved such praise?’

‘Every night I think about them… About what delicious meal you will cook for me next.’

I laugh aloud. She got me. I look down. Fuck, I’m rock hard again.

‘Well, I look forward to the next time I can please you with my hands. I’m off to bed, good night, Blair.’ A partial truth. I’m not off to bed, but off to make myself cum again to thoughts of her.

TWENTY SEVEN – BLAIR

I spend my short few days in New York riding the subway aimlessly to odd destinations. Nothing beats the lull of the off peak hours MTA when it comes to a perfect reading nook. I go from Brooklyn all the way to Fort George on the A one day. Then I walk around for a couple hours and find myself a spot in Inwood Hill Park to read some more.

I go to Astoria Park another day, a quiet residential park with an absolutely idyllic view of the East River. I take a nap on the grass and pretend I’m a New Yorker.

I spend another day at the Whitney, the only museum I’d gladly buy an annual membership pass to despite not even living in New York.

Hunter doesn’t text me again for the rest of my trip. I don’t know what to text him either, so I don’t. I try to put our last conversation out of my mind so as not to be faced with disappointment for whatever may come next with us. If there is even an us at all.

In the evenings, Yuki and I have dinner together and catch up on the minute things that have happened in our lives since her last visit to Toronto for Christmas.

Yuki uses “good” to describe how she’s doing. Not great, not excellent; just good. She has been working so hard at the UN but hates that she has to keep finding new contract positions as the full time ones are so far and few in between. She loves New York but feels like she’ll never achieve financial stability let alone financial freedom here with her job. She contemplates moving back to Toronto, but I have a feeling she won’t.

I tell her about my work and studies at OCAD, about how my furniture restoration business has been growing steadily, I tell her a little about Hunter and my fears that he will ghost me like Noah did. I tell her about my anxieties about the future. About how I don’t know if I want to pursue a career in academia, but don’t know what else to do with my degrees.

Yuki assures me that it’s normal to have fears about the future but that at the end of the day I have to pursue my passions. It’s good advice except I don’t know what I am truly passionate about.

And to be honest, a lot of my anxieties about my future feed into my anxieties about love. Our society holds a somewhat taboo attitude toward people who don’t have “regular” jobs, and people who are 9 to 5’ers are the ones who are praised as the upper echelons. Maybe I’ll never be one of those people. I have always had a creeping feeling that I don’t really fit in anywhere. And that scares me. How will someone love me, a woman soon approaching her 30s, who doesn’t even have her life figured out yet?

Yuki doesn’t have all the answers for me. But she voices her support for me either way.

These thoughts follow me all the way on the plane ride home. As I land in Toronto, I feel as if I were in a daze the past few days. New York already feels like a distant memory. The clarity and boldness I had hoped to gain from the trip were amiss.

. . .

Before I know it, I’m back home, excepted I’m not home. I’m standing in front of Hunter’s door, freshly showered.

It’s 11:13 PM on a Wednesday night. I’m wearing a set of sleeping attire I must have carefully chosen unconsciously—a high waisted pair of short shorts that my ass would hang out of if I bent ever so slightly over and a lose lacy tank top that’s almost see through, both easily excused by the hot summer air.

I’ve knocked on his door dozens of times, but this time feels different. My heart is pounding outside of my chest.

I hold my hand up to knock when I hear a woman’s voice from inside of his apartment. My heartbeat increases. I put my ear up to the door and listen. She is laughing and saying indiscernible things, but the voice is unmistakably a woman’s. I retreat back to my apartment immediately, embarrassed.

What did I think I was doing? Who did I think I was? All because he had sent me ONE (probably drunken) text saying he missed me.

I plop down on the couch with my legs crossed and open up our texts. The last one was “Where are you?” From before I left for New York.

I contemplate, “Hi.” And I finally hit send.

“Can you come save me from this date?” He replies within seconds. A wave of jealousy and relief hits me at the same time.

“You’re on a date?” I hit him with a shocked emoji, pretending as if I didn’t know.

“Please. We’re at my place.”

I have never been so excited to get off my couch in my life.

TWENTY EIGHT – HUNTER

Within a couple minutes of my SOS, there is a knock on my door.

I’m on the couch, watching a dreadful documentary about dolphins on Netflix. I mean, the documentary itself would not be that bad had it not come with the expectation from my date to make a move on her at some point in the middle of it. I slide under the weight of my date, Kim, on my shoulders. “Man, who could that be on the Wednesday night.” I hope that I don’t sound too fake.

I almost sprint to the door, or at least take very long and quick strides towards it. Kim is truly enthralled by the dolphins.

I open the door and I see her. Her amused smile is a beam of sunshine that reminds me how gloomy the past few days have been without her. To say that I’ve missed her would be an understatement. Somehow, through the short time we have been friends, I’ve gotten used to her presence as an integral part of my day.

But it’s more than just a part of my life. Sarah was just a normal part of my life when we were living together. But Blair is something I look forward to everyday. I get excited when I see her name pop up on my phone; I feel happy when I cook and feed her; and I feel rested sleeping next to her at night. I truly did not realize what I would be missing until she left me.

Her damp wavy brown hair falls down her back and the front of her lose tank top. Her arms are crossed, pushing her breasts up almost like a push up bra, and I blush at the sight of her cleavage like a god damn teenage boy.

“Hi Hunter,” She speaks and I lose my mind at the way my name rolls off her tongue. “Sorry to bother you, but my printer has been acting up again. I really need to print out some handouts for my kids tomorrow.” I know she’s probably not trying to be seductive but why does the way she’s batting her eyes at me give me beginning of a porno vibes?

“Oh, no worries. Do you want me to take a look at it?” I lean one arm against my door frame, towering over her petite presence. I stare down at her, but try not to let my eyes wander too low.

“Please. If it’s not too much trouble, I mean, seeing as how you’re so… handy.” She winks.

My cock twitches in response.

I turn around to Kim. “Kim, sorry to end our night off early…”

Kim is now turned away from the dolphins and shooting ocular daggers at Blair. “I don’t mind waiting…” she whines.

“Hi, I’ll just give you guys some privacy…” Blair gives a little sheepish wave at Kim as she ducks her head and then goes back to her apartment.

I tell Kim a string of lies, i.e., how I’m pretty beat and i.e., I will call her later. Why is it so hard to reject pretty women?

When I’m alone again, it crosses my mind that Blair is also alone. Just steps away. I pick up my phone and call her.

“Hi,” her digitized voice is huskier, but still just as sweet.

“Hi.” I wonder if I should ask her to come over. “Thanks for that.”

“At your service, any time.”

I laugh and wonder if she means it. “So you’re home now.”

“Yeah, how did you know? I mean when you asked me to come save you?”

“I heard you come in earlier. You know how thin these walls are…”

“Ohhh yeah.” I can also hear her nodding in agreement through the phone. I imagine her adorable hair bobbing on her head as she shakes it up and down.

“So tell me about your trip—“

“So tell me about your date—“

We say at the same time. Blair giggles. “Why don’t I come over?”

“That would be nice.” It would be.

“For the night?”

“I’d like that.” I would.

Blair is in my apartment again within a few minutes. She has the usual sleepover pack with her—her phone, charger, and keys.

My stomach churns nervously in anticipation. She joins me on the couch and crosses her legs under each other, facing me. She twirls a strand of hair between her fingers. There’s an obvious air of tension between us due to what happened last Friday night and the messages that transpired over IG. I think we’re both unsure of how to navigate the new dynamic.

Well, I know how I want to navigate this—I want her more than I’ve ever wanted anyone before. I want to reach out and invade her personal space. I want to rip the annoying items of clothing off of her scantily clad body and instead cover it with kisses. I want to throw her onto my bed and do unspeakable things with her.

But I have to admit that it’s not just physical. I want to know everything about her—her dreams, her hopes, her fears. I want to stay up all night talking and skip the next day like I’m 16 again. Go day drinking in a park and eat Cheetos for lunch. I just want to be with her. And that scares me.

I’m facing her too, leaning one arm on the back of the couch. She’s close enough for me to hear her soft breathing. She looks as beautiful as always. Her hair is still a little damp at the ends and leaving streaks of wetness on the front of her shirt. I can see the outline of her nipples underneath.

“So how was New York?”

“Oh it was wonderful, Hunter! I got to spend some time with my sister, Yuki.”

“You sister? What did you guys do there?”

“Yeah, I went to visit and stay with her.”

“Ohh.”

“And nothing,” she laughs, “we just ate. I read a lot. On subways and in park benches. Oh, we did happen upon a little theatre performance at a park.”

I give her a questioning smile, “that doesn’t sound like something people go to New York specifically to do? No broadway shows? Times Square?”

She shrugs and gives no explanation. “So you’ve had a productive week, I take?”

“Not at all.”

“Kim seems cute.”

“Oh, God.”

Blair laughs, “what?”

“Nothing, I just didn’t really click with her. Also, why does everyone talk about Netflix and chilling on Tinder? It’s a terrible first date idea. You can’t get rid of them if you’re not getting along.”

“Oh sweetie,” Blair reaches out to touch my forearm. I tense slightly under her touch. “Netflix and chilling is not a first date idea, it’s a hookup idea.”

I run my hair through my fingers and sigh. “I’m so out touch when it comes to dating again, you’ll have to teach me some things.”

“You want me to teach you how to date other girls?” Blair’s expression is unreadable. I want to say that she’s confused or maybe even a little hurt, but maybe that would be presumptuous of me.

She’s staring me down through her long dark lashes and it intimidates me a little. It’s just a simple question, but it feels so loaded. “Well, not really.” I admit.

“So what do you really want, Hunter?” Another loaded question.

TWENTY NINE – BLAIR

“So what do you really want, Hunter?” My heart is pounding a million miles a minute as the question slips out. His eyes are boring intensely into mine. I’ve been dying to know the answer since Friday.

I shift in my seat awkwardly as I await his reply and a tank top strap slips down my shoulder. Hunter’s gaze moves to the fallen strap. I suddenly become aware of how erect my nipples are and I sit up a little straighter, hoping that he realizes too.

Hunter reaches out toward my arm in what feels like a slow motion shot in a movie. He hooks one finger under the fallen spaghetti strap and slides it back up to my shoulder again as his eyes come up to meet mine again. His finger gliding across my skin sends shivers down my spine.

“Shit, Blair. I think you know exactly what I want.” His eyes are all over my body now, and I can see them undressing me piece by piece. I’m physically aching, desperate for his touch.

I lean over slightly, “I’m not sure. Why don’t you show me?” I whisper.

When his lips touch mine, my heart does five hundred million somersaults inside of my chest. He tastes like honey crisp apples. The kiss is soft and slow, unlike the hungry kisses we shared previously. He wraps one hand around my waist, pulling me closer.

Instinctively, I move on top, straddling him on the couch. Beneath my damp core, I feel him swelling up. I kiss him harder and bite his lip as I move my hips move back and forth on his enlargening member. He groans. We’re so close, and what feels like every possible inch of our bodies are touching, but it still doesn’t feel close enough.

I slip my tank top over my head and he does the same with the soft cotton t-shirt he’s wearing. He stares at my exposed breasts for a second, before taking one into his mouth and the other into his hand. I moan as he flicks my nipples between his tongue. After a few moments, his mouth travels up again to meet mine.

“Come on,” He stands up, holding me up by my legs and with my arms still wrapped around him, carries me into the bedroom. Beneath me, I can feel the flex of his strong frame as he holds me up.

He throws me onto the bed and takes off my shorts. All I have on is my underwear now. He is still covered up, which seems awfully unfair. I’m lying on the bed, propped up on my elbows. He stands by the side of the bed, and admires my naked figure for a moment. “You are so beautiful, Blair… you have no idea how much you turn me on…”

I giggle. I look at his shorts, holding in a huge bulge inside. I sit up and reach for the waistband but he grabs me by the wrist.

“Not yet.” He flips me over. “Get on your knees,” he commands. I do as I’m told, but my knees feel weak. I get on all fours and wait.

He grabs my hips and slides me toward him so that my knees are almost at the edge of the bed. I am pulsating and throbbing inside between my thighs at the thought of his hard cock. I turn my head around, wanting to catch a glimpse of him before he enters, but I see instead that he’s on the ground on his knees. He pulls my underwear down and out of the way in one swift motion and his lips and tongue start doing with me as they please.

“Ahh!” I let out a gasp as his soft lips meet my wetness.

“Fuck, you’re drenched.” He remarks between kisses on my clit and my opening.

My core starts to feel hotter and tighter. I grind my hips against his face and he willingly accepts me, pulling me even closer with his arms wrapped around my legs from the inside of my thighs.

With every slip of his tongue inside of me, I feel as if I’m being pushed closer and closer over the edge. I’m calling out with complete lack of control. Pleading with him with affirmations of “yes”, “that feels so fucking good”, “please”, and “don’t stops” as I grab his sheets for dear sanity.

“Please, Hunter, I want you inside of me. I need you inside.” I plead, as I feel my peak closing in.

I turn around and he stands up, allowing me to finally touch him.

I pull down at his shorts, taking his boxers with them. A huge rock hard cock springs out. I gasp at his size, my pussy throbs in anticipation of him filling me up.

I take him in my hands and then my mouth.

“Fuck, Blair,” he groans, as he twitches inside of my mouth. “I can’t anymore…” he pushes me off and onto the bed on my back again.

“You can’t what?” I smirk at him.

“I can’t wait a second longer to fuck you.” He gets onto the bed, hovering his body on top of mine.

I reach down and take him in my hands. I guide him toward my wet opening. “I’m on the pill,” I assure him. He lets me lead him towards me as I open up my hips to give way.

As he fills me up slowly, I let out a shaky gasp. My mouth drops open and my brows twist together in wild pleasure without breaking eye contact with him once. He takes in my expression and savours it as he maintains his speed. My warm and wet pussy squeezes him over and over with every additional inch that enters me. Hunter lets out a grunt when he’s reached the end, deep inside of me.

Then, he slides out completely, pauses, and then enters me again. I let out a scream of pleasure as the feeling of his swollen tip pushing into me again almost sends me over the edge.

He interlocks his fingers in mine, pinning me down into the bed with my arms above my head, and repeats. Pulling out completely, pausing, then entering into me again. He does this again and again, going a little faster each time until he’s no longer pausing anymore or pulling out of me. Instead, his cock is slamming into me now, over and over. I’m screaming and swearing as I feel myself climbing higher.

“Ah! Ah! Just like that, baby,” I rock my hips into his, wanting to feel the full thrust of his cock deep inside.

“Baby, I’m so close,” Hunter presses his forehead against mine as he continues to destroy me inside.

I pull his face down towards me. I close my eyes when his lips crash down on mine and give myself over completely to his cock, to his muscular chest rubbing against my breasts, to the growing heat inside of my core until I couldn’t take it any longer.

“Hunter, ahhh, I’m cumming,” I wrap him tighter with my legs as he pumps into me harder than he ever has. I scream as Hunter lets out a loud groan and begins to spasms after one last pump, leading me into an internal explosion of contractions one after another with him still deep inside of me. With my every squeeze, I feel him twitch in response and emptying every last drop of him deep inside.

After a minute, he pulls himself out, and a slow flow of hot, white fluid drips out of me.

After a quick shower, we’re back in bed again. The way my body fits in his arms feels perfect. I giggle.

“What is it?” Hunter looks down at me.

“I don’t know, I’m just happy.” I start laughing and I don’t know why. Hunter gives me a look as if I’m weird. “Why are you looking at me like I’m an alien?” I couldn’t stop laughing, and soon enough he is laughing with me too at absolutely nothing. The ridiculous of the situation makes me laugh even harder.

When we finally settle down, I have tears in my eyes from laughing so hard.

Hunter switches off the bedside lamp and we both soon head into a deep sleep.

Just as I’m slipping from consciousness, Hunter whispers, “I think I really like you.” I hope that I didn’t imagine it.

THIRTY – HUNTER

It’s a Tuesday night. Blair and I are making smash burgers.

My phone buzzes on the kitchen counter, less than a metre away from us. Wifey ❤️. I still haven’t gotten around to changing Sarah’s name on my phone yet.

Blair is standing next to me, washing the lettuce. She must have seen the caller ID but she pretends that she didn’t.

“Sorry, could you put her on speaker?” I motion at the phone with a patty in hand.

“Um, are you sure?” Blair gives me an uneasy look, “I can give you some privacy…”

“I’m sure.” I want her to know that I don’t have anything to hide.

Blair wipes her hands on a paper towel and picks up Sarah’s call.

“Hi, Sarah?”

“Hey, I just wanted to let you know that the townhouse is going to be listed tomorrow. I’m going to stay with my parents for a week or so while they’re doing showings.”

“Yeah, sounds good. Let me know if you need me to do anything.”

“I don’t think so.” Sarah pauses. I hear her sucking in a breath of air. “How are things going with you?”

I look at Blair. She has her head down and is picking at the lettuce leaves that are perfectly fine and in no need of picking.

“I’m well. Just making dinner.”

“My friend said she saw your profile on Tinder.” She blurts out.

“Oh.” I’m a little taken aback. This is not where I expected the conversation to go. “I mean. Well…” I’m not sure how to respond.

“I mean, it’s okay, I know we’re not together anymore. You don’t have to explain anything to me.”

Okay, so why did she bring it up then?

“Yeah.” I pause. “I don’t know. Just experimenting with some things here and there.”

“I hope we can still be friends. Can we?”

“Yeah, I mean of course we still are friends.”

“Okay good. I’ll see you on Saturday then?”

“Yeah. Anyway, let me know what happens with the house.”

“Alright. Good night.”

Blair ends the call. “So what’s Saturday?” She tries to ask casually, but she can’t hide that she’s a bit bothered by presumably Sarah’s call showing up as Wifey and her wanting to be friends.

“Oh, I was going to invite you to come with me. Cameron’s having a little get together at his place.”

Blair pulls out her phone and shows me a group chat. I see a text from her friend, Jessa, ‘BE HERE SAT 8PM X’ followed by Cameron’s address. “Can you imagine if they’re announcing their engagement or something?” Our eyes widen as we give each other a bewildered look and then we crack up.

There’s no way, right?

We eat. And then we fuck. And then I fall asleep to the lull of her gentle breathing and the smell of berries in her hair.