31. Porter
PORTER
Will has been making it impossible for me to put space between us. It’s taking every ounce of self-control I have, and every minute I’m closer and closer to forgetting all about my attempt of self-preservation.
It isn’t doing me any good anyway. I’m still miserable.
I hate the distance, hate that I let myself catch feelings when I know we’ll inevitably have the “look, it was fun, but I don’t do relationships” talk.
Maybe that wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world though, then I could simply rip the bandage off and start moving on.
Except I don’t want that.
It’s fucked up, but by ignoring him, I still get his attention on me, and I like having Will’s attention on me. It makes me feel special, important, wanted.
All the things I’ve craved since my less-than-ideal childhood.
Which is exactly what got me into my first mess with Robbie.
I should’ve known the popular guy suddenly paying attention to me and inviting me to hang out with him in private was a red flag, but I didn’t care because it felt nice to have attention on me.
Some incredibly delusional part of me thought Robbie asking questions about my life meant that he cared.
Looking back, I think he was trying to figure out if I’d tell anyone what we were doing, but when I was eighteen, sneaking around was exciting.
I thought he was nervous to come out to anyone because things between us were so new.
I convinced myself that if he knew he had my support and that I wanted to date him, he would agree and be ready to come out to the world.
Obviously I was very wrong.
Things are a little different with Will, but even though I was aware of what was happening this time, I still chose to do it because I liked his attention, and unlike Robbie, he hasn’t promised me anything.
After I blew off his second text about getting together, he hasn’t shown up at my work or on campus again, hasn’t texted or called asking to hang out. So maybe my lack of responding and availability are finally enough to make him give up.
He’s probably hooked up with someone else by now, and he’ll forget all about me soon.
Meanwhile, I haven’t been able to stop fantasizing about our hookup and how much I’d like to do it again.
I thought a few days away from him might help me remember that I’ll be fine without him, but I’m clearly struggling.
Not seeing him has only made me obsess over my crush more.
I know Will doesn’t do repeats, but at this point I think I’m so desperate for his attention that if there was any shot at hooking up even one more time, I’d jump to take it.
I know another night with him wouldn’t solve my crush problem, but if I’m going to be miserable either way, I might as well hope for more sex.
I pull the strings of his stolen hoodie I’m still wearing around the house and sigh.
I should probably give up my attempt at space.
I do miss spending time with him, and it’s nearly the end of the year anyway.
Maybe after a full summer apart, the sting would finally ease enough that seeing him on campus for one more year wouldn’t feel like constant torture like it does right now.
There’s a knock on the front door, and I force myself off the couch to go open it. It’s probably Carrie even though Josie isn’t home yet. I pull the door open, ready to invite Carrie in and hang out with her until Josie gets back, but I freeze when I realize what I’m looking at.
Will is standing in front of me with a giant bouquet of flowers.
What the fuck is he doing here? And with flowers? Those couldn’t possibly be for me, could they? No one has ever once in my entire life bought me flowers.
“Uh, Will, hi,” I mutter after I manage to pick my jaw up.
“Can I come in, P? Please?” he asks, looking nervous like he’s expecting me to refuse him.
“Yeah.” I step back, suddenly self-conscious as I realize I’m wearing his hoodie. I wish I could find some confidence, turn on my playful, bratty side and make a joke, but right now, I’m feeling far too vulnerable with truly no idea what he’s going to say.
The flowers are confusing, though.
“I got these for you.” He holds them out toward me before setting the glass vase on the counter.
“They’re beautiful, thanks.” I want to ask why he got them for me, but decide to let him lead the conversation. He’s always enjoyed being the one in control between the two of us anyway.
“Listen, P,” he starts, walking toward me before hesitating as though he isn’t sure I want him to.
“I don’t know what’s going on between us, but I hate it.
I miss you, and if I did something wrong, I need to know so I can do better.
And I’m sorry if I’m being naive right now, but I can’t figure out what I did to make you pull away from me.
I’m pretty sure that’s what’s been happening though, and I don’t want to lose you. ”
Wait, what? He doesn’t want to lose me? He misses me?
Is this really happening right now?
I honestly have no idea what I was expecting, maybe for him to ask me not to tell anyone about what happened between us, or an explanation about how he was only curious before but after fooling around, he’s sure he’s straight now and thanks for my help.
He isn’t Robbie, I remind myself for the thousandth time.
I stare at him for a long moment trying to process what he just said. “Wait. You really don’t regret hooking up with me?” I ask, hating the vulnerability in my tone.
“What? No, of course not. I want to do it again.”
I suck in a sharp breath. “But you don’t do repeats…”
“Shit,” he mutters. “Is that what this is about? I know I’ve said that before.
Fuck, I’ve been beating myself up for not setting clear expectations with you, but I guess I just thought because we were friends it was different.
Honestly, I was too caught up in the moment to think about it beforehand, but I should have said something after. I definitely want to do it again.”
“So, you want to keep hooking up?” I clarify, repeating what he’d just said to make sure I’m fully understanding.
“Yes. If you want to, of course.”
I want to, the thought screams in my head, but can I actually be fuck-buddies with Will? Can I handle hooking up with him when I know he isn’t looking for a relationship? Especially when his acts of friendship tend to be very thoughtful and generous as his baseline.
“Will this change things between us on campus? Will you still buy me lunch and stalk me between my classes?” I ask before I think through this any further.
“I hope it doesn’t change anything between us because I’d still really like to do those things,” he answers hopefully.
Well, fuck. I really have been miserable attempting to put space between us. I missed him terribly, but maybe I don’t need to miss him anymore. He’s saying he wants to keep being friends, and he’s saying he wants to repeat his hookup with me.
That shouldn’t make me feel special, but it does, and I am ninety-nine percent sure I’m going to agree.
Fuck.
I told myself I’d never put myself in the position of hoping for more with a straight guy again. But Will is still Will. Even if he’s making an exception to his no-repeats rule, he doesn’t do relationships. That’s a completely different realm, so I know exactly what this is.
Even if I know a relationship is what I’d really want, I think this week has made it clear being apart from Will doesn’t make me happy.
I’ll take being with him physically rather than not at all.
It’s far too late as far as my feelings are concerned.
So what difference does it make if I need to get over him now, while we’re still in class together, or if I do it in a couple of weeks?
Maybe we can even keep it up for the rest of the semester and have a clean break when I go home for the summer.
Plus, this way I’ll get to keep hooking up with him, and how am I supposed to say no to guaranteed orgasms with the hottest man I’ve ever known?
I’m not that strong.
“Wow, Will. I must be really irresistible if you’re breaking your rules for me,” I finally tease, putting on my bravest front in an attempt to cover up how nervous I am right now.
“Completely,” he agrees with a relieved smile. “I couldn’t stay away.”
My heart soars at that, but I know this is just about sex for him.
He said it clear as day. So I maintain my light tone deciding I’m doing this.
I’ll deal with the emotional fallout of him not returning my feelings when he’s done with this new arrangement.
“Clearly. A week away from me, and you’re showing up with half a flower shop. ”
He smirks, biting his lip. “There’s a card.”
I walk over to the vase, where I finally notice a card attached to the bow tied around it.
P,
I dare you to teach me more
– W
Here goes nothing.