The Friend Hookup You Don't Talk About

Dec 2012. Winter holiday. He kept asking until I gave in. All I wanted to do was to smoke a pipe or two with the guy, but he had to insist. So I gave in. I got tired of saying no. I took a shower with him. He washed hair. After drying off, he laid me down on the bed and got me off with his mouth. Then I made some excuse about having to leave early and did just that—with him and his hard-on waving goodbye at me from the doorway. 

Serves him right for expecting more from me. 

I should have known better too. I had the threesome with him and his girlfriend almost two years ago, and they almost broke up because of me. So stupid. So very, very stupid. I knew he wanted these pants again, but I accepted his invitation to hang out anyway because pot. Really—who declines free pot. Not I. 

I hadn’t contacted him since. The friendship’s been tainted now. 

Fast forward to May 2013, and he texted me a few nights ago, asking if I’d be in town. I will, once I come back from my Indonesia trip. I told him I’d be here in July. Shit. I should have lied. I’m too nice still.

What will I do when I meet him again (because I will; it’s inevitable). 

Something needs to happen between then and now.