51. The Top

Hunter

Hunter woke up with the sun shining on his face. He’d purposely left the shades open all night just for that moment. Loving getting both the morning sunrise and the evening sunset in his bright, airy penthouse that overlooked the ocean, he enjoyed the constant muffled sounds of the waves creeping their way through microscopic gaps in the floor-to-ceiling glass. He let out a yawn with a long stretch before jumping out of bed and making his way to his breezy balcony.

Much different from the noisy, busy streets of New York he had grown used to over the last decade, he loved that Hermosa Beach was a bit more low-key than other beaches in Los Angeles. There were a few people out and about on the side streets, getting their Saturday off to an early start.

Holding onto the balcony railing, he lowered his head down above his knees, stretching out his neck and lower back, feeling his hips move with a few cracks and then smoothly from side to side. The yoga studio he had happened upon a few months prior had become his new escape. I need to go before the noon sun becomes unbearable.

When he stood back up, he noticed his neighbor, standing on the balcony of the building next door, waving at him with a smile. Also in his underwear, drinking a coffee as he overlooked the ocean. He was a few inches shorter than Hunter with olive, tanned skin, and jet-black hair. Hunter couldn”t help but notice the tan line around his hips and ass, contrasting against his hairy chest and arms.

The man would often sunbathe all afternoon on his balcony, oiled up in a way that reminded Hunter of a Thanksgiving turkey. That didn’t stop Hunter from fantasizing about coming inside his neighbor’s plump, muscular ass and watching his cum drip down his thick, tan legs. As if knowing he was being watched, he would sometimes roll his tight swimsuit down, showing off his lovely crack. Hunter assumed he lived alone.

“We’ll have to finally meet one of these days,” his neighbor called out. “It’s been over a year, hasn’t it?”

Hunter grinned and lifted his hand in a polite wave before heading back inside, steering clear of handsome men with dark hair in little clothing.

He jogged for five miles along the beach road and back again. As he stopped to open his mail on the way back, he noticed a flier for a three-day traveling farmer’s market a few streets down from him.

He went home, made his smoothie, cleaned up the kitchen and hit the shower. He didn’t do cocaine anymore, although he kept weed on hand for nights when he couldn’t sleep. It was past noon when he began folding and putting away a load of laundry from the day before. Preferring to get his chores out of the way early, so that they didn’t weigh on his mind all day.

The phone rang, to his surprise, since no one called him much. “Hi, Hunter, how are you doing?”

“Hi, Mom. Good, just got back from a run, about to grab some food.”

“Alright, I was just checking in. How’s the place?”

“Place is great, view is incredible, as always,” he said, looking out his window.

“How’s work?”

“Work is good, lots going on there.”

“Have you met anyone? Have you tried one of those dating apps?”

He chuckled. “No, I haven’t met anybody. Not in a rush to meet anyone. I’m great, Mom. Don’t worry. How are you?”

“Same as ever. Flying out to Martinique next week.”

“Nice. With uh—Paul?”

“No, Paul is long gone. New guy, Travis.”

“Travis? That sounds like a young name.” Hunter called her out.

“He’s … youngish, I guess.”

“Younger than me?”

“God, no, Hunter. What kind of woman do you think I am? Anyway, I won’t keep you. Call me once in a while. I love you, darling.”

Hunter was always amused by his mother and her bold lifestyle. “I love you, too.”

The Farmer’s market closed in an hour he didn’t want to miss it like he had the last couple of weekends.

He walked around the market, picking up fresh fruit and vegetables for his smoothies and dinners for the upcoming week. He loved the young, relaxed vibe of California. Much different than the concrete jungle he had spent so many years in. A sweet and earthy aroma caught his attention and then a familiar voice found his ear. He turned to find a woman bent over in loose cream pants beside a crate of soaps.

“Let’s start packing up,” she said to another young woman nearby. Hunter slowly got closer, curious to see who the woman was. When she stood back up and turned around Hunter was met with the same warm, brown eyes he had thought about so many times over the years.

“Hi,” she said, smiling at him and his heart skipped a beat. “Can I help you with anything?” Her long braids flowed down the front of her shoulders and back and half were rolled in a bun at the top of her head. She looked more beautiful than he had remembered, and she didn’t even recognize him.

“Max?” he asked, with lips parted in expectation. She turned her head slightly and squinted her eyes before letting out a gasp.

“My god!” She brought her hands to her mouth and eyebrows rose toward her forehead. “Hunter!” She threw her arms around him tightly and he dropped his bag to the floor to hug her back, lifting her off the ground. “I can’t believe it,” she said, still pressed against him.

Hunter put her down on the ground. “Are you—what are you doing here? This is your booth?”

“We’re selling candles and—whatever, what are you doing here? I can’t believe it,” she repeated, wiping happy tears from her eyes. The tears brought him back to that moment by the lake that frigid winter night. Despite how close he was with anyone else, Maxine knew him. The real him. The him no one else saw, the him he had kept hidden from the world for so long.

“I moved here last year, just a couple of blocks down.”

“The oils, too, Professor?” the young woman behind the table asked her.

“Yes, please,” Maxine said, swatting her hand behind her as if to silence the woman. “I’m in Anaheim, not far from Disney.”

“That’s forty minutes away.” He smiled. “Max, we should grab a coffee or something. Lunch? Anything.”

Maxine looked back at the booth and then over toward the beach worriedly. “I have to pack up here in the next twenty minutes.”

“Do you need help?” he asked, looking around at the candles, soaps and oils.

“No, no it’s fine. But how about—in thirty minutes? I can meet you at that cafe on the corner. The one that overlooks the beach.”

“Sure. Of course. I go there all the time,” he said. “It’s great to see you again.”

“I—yeah, it is. I’ll drop these off at the van and then I’ll see you there as soon as I’m done.”

Hunter reached in and hugged her again and her body softened in his arms. “Don’t disappear again, I won’t let you out of my sight.”

“No, I won’t disappear, I promise.” She smiled. “Twenty, thirty minutes—tops.”