Free Blurred Lines by Scott Hildreth Page B

he gazed blankly at the porch, I realized Blake was truthfully only the second man I had spent time with in my adult life; or at least time alone with. Although I had spent my entire life in the presence of a man, that man had been Stephen, and I had no experience beyond him. Being with Blake and doing nothing to speak of was more enjoyable than being with Stephen and doing anything. With Blake, for whatever reason, I felt I was able to relax. Maybe it was that he didn’t question me, make demands of me, or require an explanation of my whereabouts while he was at work.
    In the time we had spent at the coffee shop I realized I had no idea who I really was or what I enjoyed doing with a man. If someone were to ask me the question, I couldn’t accurately respond. Being in Blake’s presence was simple and required very little on my part. He seemed satisfied with me, my actions, and my responses to his simple questions. Even though I understood any man who was attentive to my needs would probably be perceived as being worthy of reciprocation on my part, Blake was different.
    Or at least I told myself so.
    He seemed mysterious to me. In hindsight, it was quite possible anyone would have seemed to be a mystery; but at the time, I was convinced Blake was someone I needed to figure out, and doing so appeared to consume me. The mysterious element combined with his expressed interest in me and his handsome looks were all I needed to convince myself prying further into his life was what I needed to do with all of my available time. And, as I was living off of Stephen’s money and didn’t have a job, time was something I had plenty of.
    “Maybe like ten minutes,” he responded as he lowered his hand.
    For me to hide my excitement was impossible.
    “Ten minutes is great,” I said excitedly.
    Without warning or excuse, I began walking toward the porch. After stepping onto the first step, I paused and turned toward the driveway. Blake was still sitting on his motorcycle. Once again rubbing his hands together, but much less aggressively this time, he gazed in my direction.
    He seemed confused.
    Based on what I was able to see, and only on what I was able to see, I would have expected Blake to be an aggressive man who possessed a take-charge attitude. He sat nervously on his motorcycle as proof that judging someone based on their looks alone wasn’t an intelligent decision. His appearance made him attractive to me, but his many nervous actions and uncertainty of how to proceed made him even more so.
    “Come on, the clock’s ticking away,” I said playfully.
    He stepped off of the bike and glanced around the yard.
    “Nice place,” he said as he slowly walked up the drive.
    “Thanks, I’m just leasing it,” I responded.
    “Still pretty nice,” he said.
    “Thank you,” I said as I stood on the bottom step and waited for him.
    As I reached into my pocket and fished for my keys, he stood on the back side of the porch, as far away from me as he was physically able. After opening the door and stepping inside, I waited as he glanced around at his surroundings and proceeded to slowly walk into the house. After raking his fingers through his hair, he peered into the living room and seemed to survey the furniture.
    “Where do you want me to sit?” he asked.
    I waved my hand toward the living room. “Wherever, it doesn’t matter.”
    His eyes shifted nervously around the room. “Are we going to sit together?”
    “If you want,” I said.
    “I wasn’t sure,” he shrugged.
    “I mean, if you want to, I’d like to,” I said.
    “You want something to drink?” I asked.
    “I’m good,” he responded as he stepped in front of the couch.
    I walked past him, sat on the far side of the couch, and patted the cushion beside me. “Sit down, I promise, I won’t bite.”
    “I’m not afraid of you,” he said as he sat down a few feet from me.
    “I was just joking. So, what are your policies about your clients? You know, like