Need You To Need Me

Kevin had spent weeks playing nurse to Jamie while she puked her way through the flu, wiping sweat off her brow, keeping soup warm. Her grateful smiles felt good. Too good. Now she was healthy again and already clicking "apply" on job listings like she was ready to ditch him. Panic jabbed him in the ribs. He needed her needy, not paying rent on time. He started small. "Oops, forgot" to hand her the phone charger the morning of an interview. Forwarded the recruiter’s address with one wrong digit. Every little hiccup made Jamie sigh, flop on the couch, and call him her hero again. Then he aimed lower. Wiped her résumé file and blamed a ghost in the printer. Whispered that this market was brutal; she should rest one more day. By Friday she felt too jittery to leave the apartment. Kevin slid a fresh cup of chamomile into her hands. “Poor thing,” he cooed, and she drank every word. Gratitude pooled in her eyes like warm honey. One tear turned into a clumsy kiss. The next night the kiss lingered. She tasted like peppermint toothpaste and surrender. Kevin peeled her pajama shorts off and found her already slick, a tight little secret blooming under his fingers. He pushed her onto her stomach, spread her thighs, and drove in slow, every inch a quiet victory. Jamie gasped his name like she owed him rent she could only pay in moans. Afterward she lay there, legs splayed, soft and trusting, convinced the only steady thing in her life was the man who had made every other option disappear.