I knew it was wrong—knew I should be anywhere else—but I didn’t care. I was thinking with the head between my legs instead of the one on my shoulders.

Chloe made me fucking crazy. I had been attracted to her since the moment I first saw her. As I got to know her, it only made me want her more. But she was Quinn’s. I thought it was just like every other crush I’d ever had and it would fade, or some new, hot chick would eventually grab my attention.

Our instant flirting cooled briefly after I’d met Jenna, but picked right back up when I returned to Portland. I told myself it was normal to want to fuck my best friend’s girl. And since she was hot, any straight guy would want to—anything to make myself feel like less of a douche bag.

I’d even followed Jenna halfway across the country when our relationship was already dead, just to get away from Chloe. I’d known it was a mistake, but I needed to get away. I had thought maybe Jenna would be the one to make me forget about my desires for Chloe, but I was wrong. It didn’t do a damn bit of good. Not only did it not help with Chloe, but I had to catch that bitch in bed with Tom from our CrossFit gym.

When I’d moved back to Portland, it was like I’d never left, except my feelings had grown stronger. I’d tried to keep my distance, but Quinn was my best friend, and Chloe was always around. Who would’ve thought that was because she wanted me, too?

I’d almost said no to the threesome—almost told her and Quinn to find someone else to play in their twisted sex game, but curiosity had gotten the best of me, and when she had said ‘please,’ her lips pouting and her perfume in the air, I couldn't say no.

When she didn’t respond to my text, I knew she probably wouldn’t show up for coffee, but I had to try. I needed to get her alone, and this was my only chance. Her defenses were down, I’d seen the little cracks in her armor, and I was going to use that to my advantage.

It was supposed to be a one-time deal, but I'd gotten a taste, and now I was addicted. It didn’t matter anymore that she was Quinn’s.

My thoughts drifted to my best friend. In junior high, my mom had sent me to live with my grandma after I’d gotten caught smoking pot. She was a single mom and said she couldn’t handle a delinquent. I’d moved in the middle of the school year, and everyone was assholes, except Quinn. He’d droned on for hours about sports, but I was just happy that someone was talking to me. He became my brother.

I tried not to think about what would happen if he ever found out about this. I knew it’d mean the end of our friendship, but fuck, was she worth it? The image of fucking her the other night flashed across my mind. I needed more, and sharing her in a threesome wasn’t going to cut it.

I didn’t know what I had expected, but being thrown out of her apartment wasn’t it. All the irrational, possessive feelings from our first threesome came rushing back. I was ready to argue with her, fight her over this, but I wasn’t leaving, not like this.

I looked around the apartment, trying to figure out where this was coming from. When my eyes fell on a picture of Chloe and Quinn from their wedding day, all the anger dissipated and the guilt from before returned. I was a fucking asshole. I wondered if Tom ever felt guilty about fucking Jenna. Probably not, the fucking prick. I couldn’t compare myself to Tom anyway. Compared to me, Tom was a stand-up guy. Jenna and I were over … their affair had just made me face the truth. Quinn and Chloe weren’t anywhere near over. As far as I could tell, they were in for the long haul. Until now.

I deserved to be thrown out on the street like some cheap hooker. After Chloe turned on the shower, I got dressed and helped myself to a beer. I didn’t give a shit that it wasn’t even eleven o’clock yet. I walked down the hall and stood outside the bathroom door. I heard a sniffle from inside and knew she was crying. I wanted to break down the door, wrap my arms around her, hold her tight, and tell her everything would be all right. But I was pretty sure that was a lie.

My cock started to get hard again at the thought of her on the other side of the door, naked and wet. I stood there longer than I should have, imagining us in the shower together, then the water stopped running. I flinched. Shit. She didn’t want me here. I moved away from the bathroom door, drained my beer, and pulled the door open, taking one last glance at the bathroom door before I left.