Tell Me What To Do

Jane didn’t leave my apartment the next day, and when I walk in the door, she’s still there. She’s humming to herself and cooking something that smells great. My stomach growls loudly, drawing a laugh from her. I like hearing her laugh, so I decide to tell her what I did the previous day while she was at her art show.

*Flashback*

“Who the hell are you?” a gruff voice asks as the door to the shoddy house on the outskirts of Philadelphia opens a crack. I can see a beady, brown eye peering out from behind the chain lock.

“My name is Sidney, and I’m a friend of Jane’s. I’d like to talk to you for a second sir,” I say calmly. The door shuts, and for a moment, I’m afraid he’s shut the door in my face. Instead, the door opens up and I take in the sight of the man who raised Jane. He’s fat, with balding, greasy brown hair and a moustache that makes him look like a rapist. I try not to scowl at him.

“So what do you want?” he barks, and I sigh heavily.

“I know what you did to Jane, and why you did it, so I just…I want to make sure that it never happens again,” I say quietly.

“And what exactly are you going to do to make sure it doesn’t?” he growls, his eyes narrowing.

“Jane gave me your ‘bill’. I’m paying the entire thing, plus a few hundred dollars interest on the condition that you never set foot in Pittsburgh again. If you do, I’ll call the police,” I say, feeling a whole lot more confident all of a sudden. I hand him the check, and he looks it over briefly before nodding and tucking it into his pocket.

“Alright Crosby, you’ve got a deal. Now get the hell off my porch before I give you a souvenir too,” he snarls, slamming the door shut.

*End Flashback*

“So how’d your art show go?” I ask, leaning against the counter. Her art show was yesterday, but I was in Philly making sure her creep of an uncle didn’t bother her again.

“Wait a second Crosby! You did what?! You paid my uncle off?! But…why?” she stammers, dropping the spoon in her hand.

“Because he was a freak, and I wanted you to be able to continue doing your art in peace. Now maybe you can buy yourself that paint you need. Now, tell me about your art show,” I say, shrugging off her shock. She stares at me, bewildered, for a few more moments before picking up the spoon and returning to the stove.

“It went pretty well actually. I was the highest selling artist there. One guy paid nine hundred dollars for ‘Coffee With a Friend’. Oh, I shortened the name a bit. There were four people who wanted it, but this guy was willing to shell out the most, so I gave it to him. So yeah, I definitely will be able to buy that paint now,” she says, and I can hear the smile on her voice. I wrap my arms around her waist and kiss her on the cheek. She freezes suddenly, and I’m even a little surprised at how bold it was, but I shrug it off. She puts the spoon in the pot, turns the stove off, and then turns around. Her eyes meet mine, and I swallow nervously. There is something dangerous glinting in those gorgeous green eyes of hers, and I go to remove my arms from around her waist when her lips crash into mine. I raise my eyebrows in shock, but kiss her back just as passionately. Our tongues collide, and we seem to melt together. My heart is racing a mile a minute, and I wind one of my hands into her thick hair. I can feel her pulse racing against the skin of my wrist, and she tugs lightly at my hair. I groan quietly and she breaks away, a devilish smile tracing her lips.

“Uh oh…does somebody like their hair pulled?” she smirks. I flush, and shake my head.

“N-no. Absolutely not. Of course not. That would make me some kind of freak!” I stammer, and she laughs.

“Sidney’s got freaky turn-ons! Sidney’s got freaky turn-ons!” she cries dancing around the kitchen. I clap my hand to her mouth and shush her, remembering all too suddenly that Max lives next door. Of course, my phone rings almost immediately, and I groan again, but not in a good way this time.

“Yes Max?” I ask, pinching the bridge of my nose after I pull my phone out of my pocket.

“What’s this about freaky turn-ons Sid?” Max says, and I sigh heavily.

“Nothing…she was joking,” I mutter.

“Oh my God! SIDNEY’S GOT A GIRL IN HIS APARTMENT!” Max screams, and I can hear him through the wall as well as the phone. Jane and I both blush as we hear a few more triumphant yells from the apartment beside mine.

“Max, who else is there?” I groan.

“Marc, Tanger, and Geno,” Max says casually. Fantastic…absolutely perfect.

“Hi there. I’m assuming this is Maxime Talbot, and I’m just going to say this to you mon ami…my friend slept with you a few weeks ago, and from what she says, you’re not one to talk about those freaky turn-ons. So please, leave Sidney and his creepiness alone,” Jane says after snatching the phone out of my hand. I stare at her for a few seconds before cracking up. I hear a chorus of “oohhh!”s from the other room, and Jane smiles triumphantly.

“Alright bro, you win. She’s a keeper by the way. I like her attitude,” Max says as I take the phone back.

“Thanks Max,” I say before hanging up.

“That was something else,” I laugh, tucking the phone back into my pocket.

“Yeah, but I wasn’t joking. Max has probably slept with half of the females in Pittsburgh under 29, and apparently he’s a freak in the sheets,” Jane shrugs, and I grimace.

“I do not want to think about Maxime and his…sex tendencies,” I mutter. Jane chuckles and pulls me towards her by my wrists.

“Now, where were we?” she asks before kissing me again.