“Looks like it, my friend.”
“Well…uhm…hmm…I can’t just hang out naked with you.”
“Sure you can,” I began. “Unless you can walk through several feet of snow on nonexistent trails, that is. Trust me, your gear as well as your car are buried in snow.”
“Shit!” he muttered, slowly stepping toward the table. “May I?” I nodded and watched as he tried to sit while encased in a blanket, swathed tighter than a mummy. “Do you…would you…?”
“Have some clothes for ya?” I answered.
“Do you think I could borrow something?” he asked shyly. He was cute when he was nice and looking like a lost little boy. “I can pay you for them,” he added, which I found to be a weird statement.
“Would that be at current market value as used, or would it be at high-demand prices considering you’re fucked right now?”
“You’re an asshole,” he stated.
“That’s what you said yesterday,” I acknowledged. “Kinda mean considering I saved your life, dontcha think?” My cute little guest was at a loss for words as it sank in that I had actually saved his life. “Wanna retract that?” I asked.
Blake Jensen studied me carefully, unsure how to proceed after I pointed out the facts, not to mention he had to know he was stuck here with me for a minimum of a day or two, depending on the weather. His smooth face blushed slightly. I wanted to reach across the table and move the strands of hair partially covering his left eye that had escaped his well-maintained hair part. My eyes trailed down his lean neck and to shoulders that were covered in smooth, milky skin. He appeared delicate and soft with a dash of boyhood still evident on his masculine face. He was pretty and manly at the same time. He possessed a square jaw with high cheekbones I wanted to touch.
“Thank you,” he said softly. I leaned forward like I hadn’t heard him, cupping an ear exaggeratingly. “I said thank you,” he repeated.
“I know,” I teased. “I liked hearing you say the words.”
“Why are you such a…?” I held my hand up to remind him not to name-call. “Thank you,” he said a third time. “I’m not good at this stuff,” he added.
“What stuff would that be?” I inquired. “Being civilized?” He frowned. If looks could kill I would’ve been shopping for a coffin. “You’re cute when you’re angry. Anyone ever tell you that?” I asked, standing and taking the three steps to the counter. I grabbed two mugs and held one to him. “Cream and sugar?” I asked.
“Yes,” he answered. “I like sugar,” he added, watching me spoon some into his mug.
“Gotcha.” I kept spooning until at five teaspoons he raised a hand. “You’d think you’d be sweeter,” I quipped.
“You’d think,” he chuckled, graciously accepting the coffee.
“Then why aren’t you?” I asked rejoining him at the table and training my eyes on him. He was quiet but I knew he was thinking about the question. “Never mind. I was just being a prick,” I added after the awkward silence.
“Maybe because my boyfriend died a year ago tomorrow?”
That wasn’t the answer I’d expected.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN: Blake
Iwasn’t sure exactly how it happened, but I told Dirk the entire story from start to finish. How I’d met Mark at a party a friend had for a housewarming. I spoke of the fear that Mark wouldn’t call even though he had asked for my number that very night. He hadn’t offered his and I hadn’t asked either so I was worried he was just making conversation.
Mine and Mark’s three years together poured out of me over two pots of coffee. Dirk laughed when I wrote sugar on his grocery list stuck to the old fridge in the corner.
“Mark cheated,” I admitted. “Many times actually.”
“I’m sorry, Blake.” He’d begun to call me by my first name as we shared our stories. I admitted to him that I’d nicknamed him Cadet Dirk. “Better’n asshole,” he’d responded.
“We were living separately when he died,” I said. “Mark told me he was crashing on a friends couch, but who knows really?”
I wasn’t sure when I’d accepted the hand he stretched across the table after one particularly painful recollection. “You must have been so confused,” Dirk said. “I mean, the death, the tough relationship issues,” he began. “Wow. How do you reconcile that in your heart?” he finished.
“I wish I knew,” I confessed. “My life has been a death march through time ever since.”
That was when Dirk moved to the chair closest to me, scooting alongside me, facing me. “What was this hike about?” he whispered. “I mean, look at your lack of prep, Blake.”
My eyes filled at his question. I wasn’t sure even I knew the answer. “I’d like to say just another escape hike like the dozens of others I’ve taken,” I said. “I can’t shake the gloom, Dirk. I’d hike Mars but I doubt that’d help either.”
