I’m not sure how I was expecting the night to go but I certainly wasn’t planning on that.
After a friend cancelled for drinks last night, I was perfectly content to go home, put on my pajamas, and drool over Casey Abrams on American Idol. I hadn’t been home all week and I was looking forward to some couch time. But then I received a text message from my buddy Scott asking if I wanted to go for drinks and I didn’t want to say no. We’ve tried making plans for weeks and we were never quite able to coordinate.
Tonight was our night.
We met up at Mulligan’s, a small Irish pub in Hoboken, and caught up on life, work, and all the in-betweens. I hadn’t seen him in ages and I wanted to hear about his most recent breakup, which was still weighing heavily on his mind. At one point in the conversation he mentioned he just wanted to get out and have sex with everyone.
And I told him I understood this, never thinking for a moment that he had ever considered having sex with me. I mean, we were strictly platonic and I had just been pimping out some of my friends to him.
After we’d had enough to drink, I asked if he wanted to come back to my apartment since it was on the way to the light rail. He offered me a cigarette and we stepped out into the night clutching our weathered umbrellas and avoiding the large puddles on every street corner. Once we made it inside, I set up some tea and we dried off. We listened to the rain and Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros. I took a seat next to him on the couch.
Our small talk took a slightly different edge when he placed his hand on my kneecap and told me how small it was (I didn’t know how to react to that either). I blushed and reached for my tea and he leaned over to kiss me. It was passionate. It was unexpected.
His hands climbed the small of my back, caressing my skin, traveling between my thighs.
I pushed away.
“I’m sorry, Scott. I just… wasn’t expecting this…”
“I wasn’t either,” and he reached for the back of my neck to pull me in closer to him. He was a good kisser. But he could tell I wasn’t entirely comfortable. I had known Scott for years. Cute, fun, intelligent, and witty Scott. We’ve always had great chemistry. What the hell was wrong with me?
He got up to leave and I pulled him in closer for one final kiss. But instead his hands roamed further. “Look at this yoga booty,” he said before picking me up and taking me into the bedroom.
He threw me onto the unmade sheets and we ripped our clothing off. I was starting to warm up to the idea of sleeping with Scott. It’s just sex.
And sometimes that’s all we ever need.