Tell Me What To Do

After dinner, Jane forces me to leave the kitchen while she does the dishes. I sigh and walk over to the coffee table, where she has several movies sitting out. I grab The Sixth Sense and put it in the DVD player before lounging on her futon once more. She walks out and taps her foot against the floor with her arms folded across her chest, but I just wave at her.

“Crosby you are in my seat,” she says, her voice full of warning.

“What are you going to do about it?” I smirk, shifting so that I’m even more comfortable in the seat. She glares at me, and then walks over. She stares at me for a minute, and then sits on my stomach before lying on top of me. I raise my eyebrows in surprise. She’s warm, and soft, and I have the sudden urge to wrap my arms around her and keep her there. Instead, I clear my throat and let out a nervous laugh.

“So now will you get out of my seat?” she asks.

“Nope,” I smile, and then reach over to grab the remote off of the coffee table. I hit the play button, and she grumbles darkly to herself.

“Fine, well then get up just for a second. I swear you’ll still have your seat,” she says before climbing off of me. I sit up, my legs still sprawled across the futon, and she nods in approval before nudging my right leg off of the futon. She curls up between my legs and leans against my chest. I swallow roughly, cursing my nervousness as her head leans back. Her eyes are sparkling with laughter as the movie starts, and I suddenly notice that she had turned off the lights before sitting down. I think she notices my Adam’s apple bob up and down, because she chuckles quietly, and turns her attention back to the TV screen. My arm is draped over the top of the futon, which is currently folded up so that it’s more like a couch, and it’s starting to ache from being up for so long. My mind races as I realize that it’s either deal with the pain, or let it fall and have it rest against her leg. I think she can read my mind, because she simply shakes her head, and pulls my arm down.

“Your arm will fall off if you keep it like that for too long,” she whispers, as the little boy runs to hide in the fort he made in his bedroom.

“Sorry,” I mutter, and I concentrate on keeping my arm completely still. As comfortable as she is leaning against me, and having my arm touching her leg, I’m nervous and almost uncomfortable. I don’t want to do the wrong thing. I’m way too attracted to this girl, aren’t I? We sit and watch the movie in silence, and I slowly become more and more comfortable with her weight against my chest. I notice with a blush that her fingers are idly tracing circles against my right knee, and I lick my lips. I’m not turned on, not really, but I feel my heart skip a beat or two every time I feel her skin brush against mine. She’s smiling to herself, although the part of the movie we’re at isn’t a part to smile at. I frown as the mother pours cleaning fluid into her daughter’s soup, but the frown vanishes as Jane tilts her head up towards me once more.

“Hey Sid?” she asks quietly.

“Yeah?” I ask. I hear my voice crack slightly, and I curse my nerves a hundred times over. She smiles softly, and squirms so that her face is unbearably close to mine.

“You’re pretty cute,” she whispers. I swallow roughly, and her eyes meet mine, even though she’s practically upside down.

“Uh…thanks. You’re…you’re pretty cute too,” I admit, my cheeks flushing. Damn it Sid, why do you have to act like a high school freshman on his first date? You could be so much more suave right now. Jane chuckles, and I feel her hand brush against the stubble growing along my jaw.

“Attempting to grow a beard again, huh?” she whispers.

“No, just too lazy to shave it,” I admit sheepishly.

“I like it. Not too much, not too little. Makes you look older,” she says quietly, and the next thing I know, I’m tilting my head down and kissing her. It’s a quick, fleeting kiss, just like a first kiss should be. My blood is boiling now, my heart is pounding, and I feel my eyes grow wide at my own instant of courage. Her eyes are wide too, but a smile is forming along her lips. She reaches up and her little fingers wrap around the back of my neck before she pulls me down towards her. She kisses me back, and it’s a little longer, and a hell of a lot sweeter than the first one. As she breaks away I smile, and she’s smiling back at me. She turns back to the TV, and I feel a sinking disappointment forming in my chest, but the smile grows right back as she laces her fingers through mine, and her thumb traces circles along the side of my hand. The moment seems to last forever, and by the time the movie is over, I’m ready to do a little song and dance I’m so happy. For the first time in a long time, a woman is finally making me feel something other than horny, and I love every second of it. Once the movie is over, she stands up and pulls me up with her.

“I need to show you something,” she says quietly, and drags me towards a door that I know leads to her bedroom. I feel a flicker of anxiety spark in my chest. I don’t want her to get the wrong idea, and she notices my hesitation.

“Sidney, I’m not going to try and seduce you. Trust me,” she laughs, and I allow her to pull me into her room.

It’s orange. Bright, obnoxious, tangerine fucking orange. I swear my eye is about to start twitching as I take in the Flyers paraphernalia plastered up on the walls. Some of it is from magazines, stores, and the like, but some of it was obviously painted by her. I stare at her for a minute, and she’s staring back at me just as hard.

“You…you…” I stammer.

“I’m a Flyers fan…” she says in a serious, quiet voice.

“I knew something about you was too good to be true,” I chuckle in disbelief.

“I wasn’t going to tell you Sidney…I really wasn’t…but then we kissed, and I just…I really like you, but I knew if you didn’t find out now, it could be really bad later…” she explains. I simply stare at the room once again, and I groan.

“I swear God is tormenting me,” I moan, and she laughs.

“Hey, you’re not the one betraying the team you’ve loved for over twenty years by kissing Sidney Crosby,” she smirks.

“Is it even possible to kiss yourself?” I ask stupidly. She lets out an amused chuckle, and her fingers wrap through mine once more.

“I’m going to give you a little time to soak this all in…if you can deal with me cheering for your rival team, call me. If not…well, I’ll give you a week. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll know that you’ve made up your mind. I really hope you call me though,” she says before stepping onto her tip toes and kissing me gently. I kiss her back, and then turn to leave.

“I hope so too,” I say quietly before leaving her apartment. As I walk out through the art studio, I notice one of the paintings is black, white, orange, gold, and blue. It’s titled “Clash of Interests” and the dark, stewing aura of the painting makes my stomach turn a little bit. Can I be in a relationship with a girl who’s supposed to hate me?