So my gf and I are in college together. Big 10 school, both 21. One night we were just chilling, talking about random stuff, and she kept bringing up this guy—Luke. Turns out he’s the same Luke from my hometown who lowkey bullied me all through middle and high school: shoving me in the halls, mocking me in front of everyone, that kind of thing. I hadn’t seen him in years and had no idea he was at our college until she mentioned he’s in one of her classes, that she really enjoys talking to him, thinks he’s fun, and yeah—he even said he knew me.
It was obvious something was up, so I finally asked. She admitted she had a crush on him, thought he was hot and great to talk to. It stung like hell, especially because it was him, but instead of shutting it down, I heard myself say, “If you want to talk to him sometime… go for it.”
A few weeks later we’re at our usual bar and there he is. I told her I’d grab another round and stepped away on purpose, giving her the opening.
When I came back, they were already deep in conversation. I found a spot across the room where I could watch without being obvious and just stayed there.
For the next ninety minutes I sat nursing my drink, heart pounding, watching her light up in a way I hadn’t seen in forever. Full, head-thrown-back laughs at everything he said, playing with her hair, leaning in close so their knees almost touched. Eyes sparkling, whole body screaming attraction.
I couldn’t look away. Every giggle twisted my gut, but I was rock hard the whole time—humiliated and turned on in equal measure.
Finally she pulled out her phone, typed something, and handed it to him with a smile so he could add his number. He did, grinning, then showed her his screen so she could put hers in. They hugged goodbye—way longer than necessary—and she kept talking to him another 10 minutes or so until his Uber came.
After he left, she hung out with her friends at the bar for a bit while I headed home. She got back to her sorority house pretty soon after, and we FaceTimed—she acted totally casual, like nothing big had happened. “He’s fun, babe. We’re just classmates,” is basically all she said about it.
Her phone’s been blowing up ever since with texts from him, and she’s replying fast, grinning at the screen. He asked her to grab food, and tonight it’s actually happening—she’s heading out tonight for “just dinner” with him. Keeps insisting it’s nothing, but I’m sitting here with my stomach in knots and hard again, imagining how it goes.
It was obvious something was up, so I finally asked. She admitted she had a crush on him, thought he was hot and great to talk to. It stung like hell, especially because it was him, but instead of shutting it down, I heard myself say, “If you want to talk to him sometime… go for it.”
A few weeks later we’re at our usual bar and there he is. I told her I’d grab another round and stepped away on purpose, giving her the opening.
When I came back, they were already deep in conversation. I found a spot across the room where I could watch without being obvious and just stayed there.
For the next ninety minutes I sat nursing my drink, heart pounding, watching her light up in a way I hadn’t seen in forever. Full, head-thrown-back laughs at everything he said, playing with her hair, leaning in close so their knees almost touched. Eyes sparkling, whole body screaming attraction.
I couldn’t look away. Every giggle twisted my gut, but I was rock hard the whole time—humiliated and turned on in equal measure.
Finally she pulled out her phone, typed something, and handed it to him with a smile so he could add his number. He did, grinning, then showed her his screen so she could put hers in. They hugged goodbye—way longer than necessary—and she kept talking to him another 10 minutes or so until his Uber came.
After he left, she hung out with her friends at the bar for a bit while I headed home. She got back to her sorority house pretty soon after, and we FaceTimed—she acted totally casual, like nothing big had happened. “He’s fun, babe. We’re just classmates,” is basically all she said about it.
Her phone’s been blowing up ever since with texts from him, and she’s replying fast, grinning at the screen. He asked her to grab food, and tonight it’s actually happening—she’s heading out tonight for “just dinner” with him. Keeps insisting it’s nothing, but I’m sitting here with my stomach in knots and hard again, imagining how it goes.
