FOUR - HUNTER

Blair opens the door to her apartment and turns on the lights in the living room. I can tell she’s not wearing any makeup, and despite her messy bed head bun, I still can’t deny that she look stunning.

“Excuse the mess please, I’m in the middle of a project...” she warns as she retreats to the bedroom to change.

I step inside, and boy is messy an understatement. Her apartment has the exact same layout as mine, except reversed. The front door opens up to an adjoining living and dining area. To the left of the living room is the hallway and there are what looks like one bedroom and a washroom, just like my place.

Blair’s dining room is covered with newspapers, and in lieu of any dining furniture, there is a shelf against the wall overflowing with paint supplies and tools and beside it, a table which was also covered in art supplies and tools. There are two antique chairs in the middle of the newspapers and art supplies scattered on the ground everywhere.

The rest of the apartment isn’t too messy, but it is clear that this girl lacks a clear division of life and work. Judging from how old she appears to be and the state of her apartment, maybe she’s a college student at OCAD, the art and design university nearby. Is it okay for an old geezer like myself to be hanging out with college students?

A minute later, Blair emerges from the bedroom, still wearing the same shorts and tank top, but just with a bra underneath. I’m grateful she’s removed a large part of the temptation for me to stare at her chest.

These thoughts that cross my mind suddenly feel juvenile. What’s wrong with you Hunter? Have you never seen boobs before?

“Come on, I know a great Thai place just around the corner,” Blair says and we both step out of her apartment. “Do you like Thai food?” She closes the door behind her and starts heading down the stairs.

“Thai’s good. Um, aren’t you going to lock the door?” I’m still standing in front of her apartment, at the top of the stairs.

“Oh. Right.” Blair lets out an adorable laugh as she walks back up and squeezes in between me and the door to lock it in place. Her high bun atop her head almost touches my nose and I catch a hint of her fruity shampoo.

As we walk down the stairs, I wonder if I should ask about the man I saw earlier who came out of her apartment. But before I think up a way to phrase the question, Blair breaks our silence first.

“So are you new to town?”

“No, I just moved from midtown. I used to live near Eglinton station.”

“Ah, don’t people usually tend to move further away from the city over time?”

“Are you calling me old?” I scowled.

“Oh, no, no, no not at all!” Blair’s expression stiffens and I can tell I’ve made her nervous that she’s offended me, which she hasn’t. “I mean, you’re likely not much older than me. I just meant, oh I don’t know, that people generally move uptown with each successive move…”

“I’m just kidding, Blair,” I nudge her arm playfully as we’re walking side by side. “But I’m 33, which must be at least 10 years older than you, no?”

“Wow, I’m flattered,” she turns and touches my arm lightly but with sincerity, “I turn 27 in a few months, but it’s nice to know I still look like I’m in my early 20’s.” She beams and lets out a hearty laugh. I suddenly realize how refreshing it is to be around someone who laughs all the time. Blair seems like the type of girl who has a personality everyone around her gravitates towards. And her striking natural beauty certainly doesn’t hurt. I realize that she looks mixed like me, perhaps East Asian and Scandinavian, judging from the combination of her exotic light hazel eyes, ashy light brown hair with her Asian cheekbones.

The restaurant is only a 2 minute walk, literally around the corner from our apartment, as Blair promised.

It is already past 9:30pm and only one other couple is in the restaurant, clearly on a date judging from the way the girl was giggling and squirming in her seat.

I wonder what they were thinking about us. Do we look like friends? Lovers? Strangers?

Over dinner, she tells me about the neighbourhood, the best bakery nearby, the best takeout place, the best date spot, the parks nearby. I try to take it all in, but my head isn’t in the right space.

I feel guilty about the instant attraction I felt towards Blair. My nearly decade-long relationship with Sarah literally just ended. Well, actually, I’m not even sure if it has ended or not since we didn’t even really talk about it. I assumed that it was over when I moved out, and I think she assumed the same?

There was still the issue of selling the house and splitting up our finances. I told her that I would keep paying for my portion of the mortgage until we could find a suitable buyer for the house. Which I anticipate won’t take long in the Toronto housing market.

Even though Sarah and I haven't been physically or emotionally intimate in a long time, I still feel strangely attached to her in a way. We did spend 8 years together, after all. She was my family, the person I came home to every night, and it won't be easy to replace that place in my life. I don’t think I will ever stop loving or caring about her as a person.

Anyway, Blair doesn’t even seem like a girl who is my usual type. I mean, I obviously wouldn’t mind taking her to bed but lust must be all it is. Even before Sarah, I always dated girls who were soft spoken, level-headed, well put together, and live quietly responsible lives. They usually came from upper-middle class families. The ones who have jobs in accounting, banking, consulting, law or medicine.

We finish dinner before the other couple despite arriving later, and I offer to pay as a thank you for the neighbourly tips, but Blair refuses.

“No honestly, it was no trouble, and I don’t want to feel like I owe you one.” She insists, putting down $15 for her portion of the meal. I sigh and give in, adding another $15 on top of her bills.

As we walk out of the restaurant, the thought of the man who left her apartment earlier enters my head again. Not that I was even thinking of making a move but I was just curious.

“So you live together with your boyfriend?”

She turns to look at me, a little surprised by my question. “No, I... no I don’t,” she laughs, “what makes you think that?!”

“It was just, I saw a guy leaving your apartment earlier, I just assumed...”

“Oh! Him...” her voice trails off and suddenly she looks slightly uncomfortable.