Unholy Unhell, am I ...in-crush?

NOT a sex post. So please, feel free to stop reading now in case my dealings of emotions don't tickle your fancy.
Anyway, I've been friends with a particular guy for a few years now, we were never really close friends, but he's always been very good to me in the line of respect and friendship.
Since summer's been here for a while, we recently started hooking up, at least about a month ago and that's all it's really been if you take away the friendly conversations we have on the reg. I feel bad for referring to him in the blog as my "boytoy", but realistically, I can't call him anything else while refusing to mention his name. I feel like sexbuddy or fuckbuddy is a little harsh, and technically, so is referring to him as boytoy, but whatever. It is what it is.
Anyway, I guess it's fair to say that because of our friendship, I've always cared a lot about him because even though we never really talked on a regular basis, definitely not as daily as we do now, he's always been there for me and entirely understanding of my situation. OR rather, he's been entirely understanding of my many situations when I randomly decided to vent to him.
I never, however, thought I would really like him more than a friend because he's always been such a good friend to me. Even when we started hooking up, I knew I cared about him significantly, but I never thought I'd harbor any feelings for him that were outside the "friendship" we already had.
I can't admit to having strong feelings because I don't, but I'll be honest, I do like him a lot. I don't think this is going anywhere, given both our situations, and because we've really only been seeing each other to maximize the fun out of our summer as friends, I can't picture us dating. However, I think I'm crushing, and for now I think it's cute because he gives me butterflies.
With that being said, I think I'm done my frivolity. No more random, drunken make-outs with guys AND girls alike. And no more of the other things that my best friends know of... yeah.. even if he chooses to do his own business as a casual philanderer, I'll keep it clean for the rest of the summer until this is over because I respect him a ton.

A night like any other night: sexually torn but knowing exactly what I wanted..

Saturday night (last night) was a fairly eventful night for me, to say the least, but I wouldn't say it was eventful in my favor. I had fun, don't get me wrong, but I was frustrated because I was literally torn between who to go home with. At the end of the day, it was a no-brainer, literally.

So, after about 6 months since I saw him last, my baby-daddy came down to Brampton to see our son for father's day weekend. Being a late Saturday, my baby-daddy's best friend and I decided to take him to a local bar after pre-drinking at my house, and so a night of drunken endeavors ensued thenceforth.

Went to Fionn MacCool's, the talent wasn't great, but hey, it was a fun night.
I spotted one of my childhood bestfriends and bought us both shots because it was his birthday last week. He insisted on buying me shots later on and like anyone else would, I took him up on the offer. Two cocktails, three glasses of beer, pornstars and two liquid cocaine shots later, I found myself conversing with a girl who randomly knows I'm in love with greek pasta salad about dancing like a hooker, having a pretty ravishing mack-sesh with the childhood bestfriend that I friend-zoned 7 years ago, then to be kissed by the greek-pasta girl... a couple times...and kind of enjoying it, then trying to establish whether I was cabbing home or cabbing to the boytoy's house after the bar and being absolutely torn between who I ought to go home with--rather, who I ought to sleep with that night..
I ended up taking a cab back to my house with the baby-daddy and his best friend, and after what only now seems to have been an awkward 10 minute cab-ride conversation about how both my baby-daddy and I filmed our sex with our most recent exes and then conversing about something regarding pig roasts before getting out of the cab, I went straight into my house ate some medley of shellfish, and passed out on my bed, sandwiched between my son and my new kitten.
It was remarkably relieving.

I think at the end of the day, living a life like mine, this triple-role lifestyle as a young mom, a business student, and a 20-year-old night-time slut, your priorities start to shine through when you decide to go straight home and into bed so that your son has you to wake up to every single morning. When sobriety hits, you become extremely relieved when you take in the fact that you didn't go to your buddy's house for a night of freaky drunken sex knowing that it would have resulted in a walk of shame up to the front door of your house at 5 AM, hoping you don't make noise because everyone knows you weren't at a bar until 5.
Yeah, I can thoroughly say that I'm glad that has never happened to me before. I'm happy to say that I don't think it ever will simply because even in my drunken state, my number one priority is making sure my son isn't affected by the ten-thousand different personas I need to be just to live my life and really enjoy it.