The Glue

by K. Webster

“I want more than sex,” I mutter, my voice soft and vulnerable. “I want a real relationship. With the both of you. Dinner, dates, all of it. We can start slow, but I’m not the type of guy who just fucks and runs. I’m not wired that way. I get attached.”

“We may have been broken, but we weren’t unfixable,” I tell her firmly. “We just needed some glue.”