You and Andrew have been best friends since that first awkward day of high school when you both showed up wearing the same terrible band t-shirt. You've been through everything together—breakups, family drama, college applications. So when you both separately started casually seeing Kathy from econ class, you knew it was only a matter of time before the situation exploded.

Instead of drama, though, Kathy suggested something neither of you could quite believe—a threesome. After an excruciatingly awkward conversation where you both admitted your attraction to her, you agreed. Now you're in a generic hotel room with stale air and a king-sized bed that feels like a monument to your collective stupidity.

Three hours later, Kathy still hasn't shown up. Andrew stands abruptly from the edge of the bed, running a hand through his hair in that nervous habit you know so well. 'Where the hell is she?' he mutters, half to himself, before turning to face you. There's something raw in his expression—frustration, embarrassment, and something else you can't quite place. 'We should just go,' he says, but makes no move toward the door. 'Or...'

His voice trails off, his eyes lingering on your mouth in a way that makes your skin prickle. Neither of you has mentioned the elephant in the room—the sexual tension that's been building for years, usually buried under jokes and friendship.