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Chapter 4

Chapter 4

After several failed attempts to find old friends online, I finally “ran” into one of them on the app. Well, friend may be too generous of a word. More like occasional acquaintance. Or f**k buddy, if someone wanted to get a bit more specific.

I met Paul a few years before I got together with Tim. It was a blind date, and although he was a really sweet, caring individual, we just didn’t have any sparks outside of the bedroom. So instead of getting further involved, we just decided to keep it all casual. Anytime we found ourselves single, we would hook up for several nights of incredible s*x. Other than that, I probably wouldn’t see him for weeks, or even months, at a time.

In my head, I didn’t want to do this. But in my other head, I really did. I didn’t know how else to distract myself, and though I could have called Bobby to go out or something, I just had to feel something physical.

I was surprised at how well he kept in shape, at least based on what his picture showed. In fact, it was as if he’d hardly changed at all.

That made me nervous beyond belief. Surely, he would see that I wasn’t exactly the same person as I was before. I mean, I could still do all the stuff that we used to do, but it didn’t come in the same bright, shiny package. What if he took one look at me and decided to go back home?

I quickly got to my phone and decided to text him that something suddenly came up, but a knock at the door stopped me cold. Dang it, I thought, just my luck. I took a quick breath and walked over to the door. I tried looking out the peephole, but a hand was over it, which I knew right away was Paul. He always did that to let me know that it was him. Said it made it feel like a special surprise each and every time.

It was nice to have some familiarity back in my life ever since it totally exploded. I took another deep breath to fend off any hiccups, and slowly opened the door.

As I exhaled, I could not believe what I saw. Yes, it was Paul, but not the Paul that was in the picture. Perhaps the shallow hopeful inside of me was hoping that he actually looked the same, but this Paul was a heavier version of the guy I used to know. I wouldn’t have minded so much if he had been truthful, but I honestly didn’t know how to feel.

“I know I lied, but I was worried you wouldn’t want to see me if you saw that I got fat,” Paul said, possibly picking up on my apprehension.

Sure, he was a few pounds heavier, but the smiling, handsome guy was still there.

“Still look good to me,” I responded. And he did. He was well-groomed, and the cologne he had on was a nice touch. Besides, if he still had the same skills he possessed when he was younger, then it was all still worth it.

“Does that mean you are going to invite me in?”

“Oh, of course, come on in,” I said, snapping out of my daze.

I led Paul to the couch and nervously sat on the other end.

“So,” Paul began, breaking the silence, “this one lasted a while, huh?”

“Yeah, ten years to be exact. But it’s over now.”

Paul began to slide over on the couch. “Yup, same here, though it didn’t last as long as yours.”

I decided to play Paul’s game and slide a few inches over myself.

“And here we are again.”

Our legs finally touched.

“Yup, here we are.”

Paul placed his hand on my thigh. He then ran it up to my chest and pinched my n****e.

“How about a kiss?”

Our lips met, but it wasn’t how I remembered. What was once unbridled passion now felt kind of strange. It was really hard to explain. But I decided to work through it and keep the momentum going.

I reached over and grabbed the bottom of Paul’s shirt, which I began to pull up. Before I could get it halfway, Paul reached over and pulled it back on.

“I’d prefer to keep it on, if that’s okay. And could you turn off the lights? I think it would be better that way.” I decided to oblige, if only because I was extremely horny at this point.

When I returned to the couch, we began to lean in for a kiss, once again. This time it felt like how I remembered, with our tongues swirling together in between each peck. Suddenly, the door burst open and the lights sprung back to life. It shocked Paul so much that he literally fell off the couch.

“So, this is why you asked me to leave, huh? So you could hook up again?” Tim asked as he walked in with Charlie. He just stood there with a disapproving look on his face.

“No, I left you because you decided to do it first without permission.”

Paul, who laid there motionless for a while, finally got up.

“I’m fine, by the way. But maybe I should go.”

“No, you aren’t the one who has to leave,” I responded, looking directly at Tim.

Charlie’s eyes began to get wide. “Paul, is that you? I knew that was you on the floor.” Charlie ran to give Paul a big hug and kiss on the cheek. Tim turned tomato red.

“Weren’t you just leaving?” he roared.

Paul broke away from Charlie and turned to me. “Why don’t you give me a call when you are officially single?” With that, he was gone, and now I could aim all my anger at Tim.

“What the hell do you think you were doing? You can’t just barge in here like that without calling.”

“I did call, but you didn’t answer. I can see why, though,” Tim said with a disapproving smirk.

“Don’t even think that you can come here anytime you want and tell me how to live my life. Might I remind you that you’re not exactly being saintly yourself.”

“That’s not true,” Charlie interrupted. “He hasn’t cheated on me once.”

“Well, I’m glad that he’s been faithful to you, since he wasn’t able to keep it in his pants while he was with me.”

Charlie turned to Tim. “Babe, you didn’t tell me you cheated on Greg.”

I threw my hands up. “Why are you guys here?”

“Oh, we just thought you might be lonely and wanted to go get a bite to eat.” Tim was so matter-of-fact when he said it, as if I should be thankful that he still thought of me. I wanted to tear into him right then and there, but I was already exhausted, and to be honest, kind of hungry. So against my better judgment, I got my coat and went with them.

When they brought me back home, Tim tried to weasel his way back in, but after I assured him I was going straight to bed, he backed off. I should have called to see if Paul was still up, but what he said still lingered in my head.

Why don’t you give me a call when you are officially single? What could he have possibly meant? I had thrown Tim out, so didn’t that mean it was over? Sure, we had talked on the phone a couple of times since then, but it was never romantic. And while I didn’t for a second think I was completely over him—it had been ten years after all—I knew I didn’t want him back at all. Right?