Page 4 of Callan

I put the kettle back on the stove, and set the mug, a plate of almond cookies, a honey jar, and a teaspoon on a tray before taking everything to the coffee table in the living room.

The noise continues, and it’s comical and annoying at the same time.

It’s like they’re doing acrobatics up there.

I say‘they'because I’m convinced it’s my neighbor and her new man.

I may have seen her more than once these past few weeks since I’ve lived here.

A pretty brunette with a tiny waist, appetizing curves, and eyes made of fire. She could sell that shade of fiery crimson she’s wearing on her lips to a congress of nuns.

It looks good on her.

She has sass and wears skintight clothes and fuck me heels even when she strolls down the icy sidewalks.

She likes to fuck, and makes no secret about it.

I wouldn’t say no to some bedroom activities, but I try to control my needs by keeping myself busy with decorating my place.

“Are they really getting it on?” Kayla asks, her eyes wide with questions.

I study her expression from behind the rim of my mug.

“Do you think they’re doing something else?”

I sip and quickly wince as the hot liquid scalds my mouth.

“Fuck,” I murmur, putting my drink down and grabbing an almond cookie. “They’re getting it on like clockwork. He comes in the evenings. Sometimes later than that. At around midnight. Maybe he’s working late. Who knows? Or maybe she’s not available. I don’t know what their deal is.”

Sagging back, I chew pensively on my cookie.

“Are they living together?” she asks.

A smile tugs at my lips.

“You’d think, right? But no. They have sex. That’s it. They’ve been hooking up since I moved here. Sometimes it’s quiet in the evenings. Maybe she’s going to his place. I don’t know. Most of the time, they’re doing it here. Just wait,” I say, flicking my forefinger up.

It’s like witnessing a ceremony of sorts.

It doesn’t take long, and their playful foreplay is replaced by silence.

“He’s kissing her or peeling her clothes off,” I mumble while her mouth falls open, a crooked smile dangling from her lips.

“You’re good at this,” she says in admiration.

“I’m just an unemployed girl waiting for a phone call. I have nothing else to do. Listen…” I say, already hearing the woman’s moans ringing through the walls.

I hate this moment.

They barely register with Kayla before my neighbor starts singsonging, her crying moans louder and louder.

“She’s quick too,” she says, nodding in awe. “He must be some kind of wizard.”

“A wizard he is. Hopefully he’s insured his wand or he’ll end up with some worn out stale baguette.”

We both laugh, but our laughter is not loud enough to cover the noise booming upstairs.

And then… My finger goes up again.

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