What Happens When You Connect With Your Missed Connection

“Did you come?” The pressure to lie mounts. This is an intimate moment — egos have been destroyed over things like this. “Yes.” I am being dishonest for selfish reasons, but something about the way he asked was more vulnerable than I was comfortable with — raw, even. This was not the time to try to correct what might have been years of not knowing any better.

Dick eased himself onto all fours before moving into the big spoon position behind me. “Got an ass on ya, eh?”

The heat of summer and our exertion makes our skin stick together. I’m mildly disgusted by the wet sound his palm makes when he places it flat on one ass cheek, giving it a little squeeze before moving his hand up onto my hip.

It’s not that big, I want to say. But I don’t, because I’m catching on to the fact that if I’m quiet long enough, we’ll both fall asleep without honesty going and fucking things up.

My friends are leaning forward on their stools, rapt with attention; chins cradled in their palms while they listen to me. It reminds me of all the times we met up so they could ask about Shane, giggling when I mocked him and then eagerly encouraging me to go out with him again. They don’t say anything — waiting for a punch line or maybe a one-liner — but I didn’t think to craft one before leaving the house.

“So there you have it — he took me out, we had sex and… now I dunno.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know? What’s there to know?” Even in the dark I can see the look Amy is giving me over the top of her glasses, and I feel like I have to explain myself, yet again. I’m still struggling with the fact that what I want — a very attractive boyfriend — is not something I can have.

“It’s just every time I go out, every pretty girl I see is out with some troll she clearly picked up underneath a bridge. I want a hot boyfriend!” The alcohol-infused honesty makes her laugh, but she counters with a point of her own.

“Don’t you get it? We’re all dating ugly dudes because they’re nice. Hot dudes in this town are fucking jerks.” I’m startled by how starkly she’s put it, though after spending my summer wilding out, it’s obvious that she’s right. Any attractive man who’s lived in New York for a few years is a dangerous creature; used to sleeping with women that will tolerate poor behavior and even worse post-fuck follow-up.

“I have intimacy issues. You know this.” I am trying to brush off the topic, but Amy is not letting it go so easily.

“Yeah, well mayyyybe the best way to get over them is to keep seeing this guy!”

“Yeah!” Dawn chimes in. She’s always the first to laugh when I put a guy down, and just as excited when she hears I’m off to make the same mistake again.

“You’ve only been out with him a twice!” Amy continues. “You gotta at least give this guy a chance.” Her tone is serious and I pull a face, annoyed by the implication that more dates with Dick are exactly what I need.

“He’s just…nice, you know? I don’t like nice.”

“Yeah, trust us, we know you like assholes.” She’s looking at me over her glasses again, clearly talking about Anthony. “But it’s time for that shit to end, dude. You’re a babe, you should be seeing someone that is actually NICE to you.”