Two girls he had been seriously involved with had seen me naked.
There was no schedule in the cube -- I shamelessly slept with who was available and would leave one girl to see another based on who texted me first. Sex became passionless and all I could do was make sure all of us weren't in the same room at the same time.
The outcome was bleak
Sammy and I were together -- in the roughest sense of the word -- for a month before I clumsily ended the relationship by moving 200 miles away. She wasn't particularly sad and, I believe, declined to see me on the day I left the city. Kate and James ended up getting engaged, but broke it off a few months afterward because she stole money from him.
In the end, I stopped talking to everyone involved. I stopped caring and stopped putting forth effort, because all it took was a few smacks from my friends to realize what I was doing was beyond stupid. It really did end up being one of those things I don't regret at all happening, because this experience added to my ever-growing list of personal red flags that I can bury in my "that happened once" graveyard.