Chapter Twelve
Mari
I came here for the tattoo convention, I tell myself. I did not come to Amsterdam to get caught up in a messy liaison with my ex.
And yet, when Roos texts asking to see me that evening, I find myself immediately agreeing and suggesting she come to my hotel.
Sure, I am comforted by the fact that meeting Roos at the hotel means there’s next to no chance of Lex showing up again, but I’m not even sure that would have put me off completely.
Because I’ve found myself thinking about Roos constantly since I left her apartment.
Roos, and, if I’m being honest, Lex.
As I walk through the long rows of exhibits and stands, my eyes are constantly pulled in one way or another at someone’s ink or piercings or simply what they’re wearing.
All this visual stimulation – my favourite kind – is no match for memories of Roos in my arms last night.
And the sight of Lex standing in front of me.
I swing from feeling hot and horny as I recall a noise Roos made or how her hands felt on my hips, to enraged and incensed with Lex for showing up, and showing up looking so fucking good.
Xir shaved head, xir dark brown eyes, xir sleeve sneaking out of xir achingly cool knitwear. Fuck xem. Fuck. Xem.
When I finally exit the huge conference space the convention is being held in, I take in a series of deep breaths as if to cleanse myself of these thoughts of Lex. I don’t have time to assess whether it’s worked or not because my phone buzzes in my back pocket.
I smile at my friend Dion’s text. I have absolutely no clue what he’s talking about – other than he is absolutely not asking for a friend – but it sounds like a fun development in his life.
I text back.
I sigh as other people leaving the convention walk by me. I haven’t yet made my move towards the Metro station, and considering Roos can’t see me for a few more hours, I’m in no rush.
I stop typing. Dion knows Lex. He knows our history. If I mention xir name, he will only confirm what I know to be the smart thing to do. He will tell me to run a mile, from xem and from Roos. But I don’t want to. I don’t want to not see Roos again.
I finish and send.
I text before adding,
Dion texts back.
I reply before pocketing my phone. It’s true.
I do miss Dion, who has become my closest work buddy and one of my best friends in recent years, but I don’t miss him or the studio or even my mum and Dove in the way I think I should.
It’s like I’m fully present here in Amsterdam.
I’m fully here in this city – mind, body, and soul – and despite all the chaos of the morning, I feel alive.
I feel untethered, free and full of possibility.
Maybe it’s simply because this is my first time travelling alone for work. Maybe it’s because of meeting Roos and how she makes me feel. Maybe it’s even because I have now faced one of my biggest fears – seeing Lex again – and I have survived it.
I open my bag and rummage around in the inside pocket.
I pull out the card for Pink Elephant, a tattoo studio here in Amsterdam.
I got talking to the soft-spoken owner in the coffee queue earlier, and I was blathering on about how much I like the city and how I wish I could stay a bit longer, and he smiled knowingly.
When I finally stopped and came up for air, he gave me his card and said if I ever did end up staying, I could contact him about renting a chair in their studio.
At the time, I’d stared at the card and felt moved by his politeness, thinking that that’s all the offer was, but now I wish I’d asked more questions and shown more interest. I vow to look out for him again tomorrow and, failing that, go visit the studio myself before I leave.
Not that I’m seriously thinking about staying. I mean, that would be ridiculous when Lex lives here. As soon as I think it, I feel full of rage again. Letting xem stop me from doing what I want is what’s really ridiculous.
Because fuck Lex. Fuck xem.
After another deep breath, this one coming and going more easily, I walk to the Metro station and head back to my hotel for a bath and change of clothes so I can be clean, fresh, and looking my best for Roos.
*****
I nurture the swirl of butterflies in my stomach as I walk down to the lobby ten minutes before Roos is supposed to arrive.
I deserve this excitement. I deserve this vibrant attraction to someone.
I deserve to feel good, full stop. I’m surprised when I see Roos already in the small bar-lobby area, sitting elegantly in a high-back armchair, her long legs crossed.
She stands up immediately upon seeing me, and I take in the full sight of her.
She’s wearing a short black skirt, or maybe it’s a dress that continues under her hip-length wool jacket, and brown ankle boots that only make her legs look longer and slimmer than should be anatomically possible.
Her hair falls down over her shoulders in loose blonde waves, and she’s wearing an adorably cute purple beret on top of her head, slightly tilted to one side.
God, she’s beautiful.
“Hi,” I say as I stand in front of her.
“Hi,” she says with a shy smile that tells me she feels something possibly close to what I’m feeling right now for her.
“Do you want to…” I look around. “Have a drink?”
She shakes her head, but her smile grows. “Can we go up to your room?”
I am starting to think I could fall for her directness alone. I’ve always been a sucker for someone who knows exactly what they want and asks for it.
“Of course,” I say, and I slip my hand into hers. I squeeze her fingers before leading her out of the room and towards the lifts.
We stand in silence until the lift arrives, and then I gesture for Roos to step inside before me.
As soon as the lift’s door closes, we turn to each other. There’s a single charged second of eye contact before her mouth comes crashing down on mine, and I push her body up against the mirrored wall behind her.
We kiss with nothing but pure greed and hunger. I grab handfuls of her and come up disappointed each time when they’re full of fabric and not her body. She cups my face and holds me in place while her tongue dives into my mouth again and again and again.
The ding of the lift arriving at my floor breaks us apart, and we share another look, this time a very sheepish one, our chests rising and falling together in a quick rhythm.
And then I move, dragging her by the hand out of the lift and down the short corridor to my room.
I unlock the door, open it, and practically throw Roos inside.
She doesn’t go far because as soon as the door is closed behind me, her hands come out and reach for me.
And then there are more hungry kisses and greedy gropes as I take her jacket off and she kicks off her boots.
Her hands come up to the sweater I have tucked into my high-waisted jeans, and she stops.
“Can I… Is it okay to touch you on your chest?”
“Today, you can touch me anywhere,” I tell her before tucking my mouth into the crook of her neck. “Please.”
“And can you…” She sighs as my teeth graze her smooth, warm skin. “Can you take control?”
I freeze, my mouth still and my breath held. I pull back so I can look in her eyes. “You want me to top you?”
She nods feverishly. Her eyes are fully dilated, and there’s a cute pink blush in her cheeks. “Is that okay?”
I suck in a slow, measured breath. It’s not what I want.
I was hoping she could turn me inside out again like she did last night.
After a day of small talk and networking and forcing smiles and often half-hearted compliments, I need somebody else to take the lead, to make the decisions, to make me feel.
“I’m not sure…” I begin, but then I see the shadow of disappointment in her eyes, and I stop.
“Why don’t we take a breather?” I suggest instead. “Let’s sit down and just talk a bit. It’s probably what we should do first anyway, after what happened this morning.”
Roos’ shoulders sink with relief, and she smiles. “Yes, that’s probably a good idea. I don’t really know what came over me. I just saw you, and I…”
She doesn’t finish that sentence, but she doesn’t need to. “Same,” I tell her. “I just wanted you so much.”
The blush on her cheeks spreads, and she really does look like the name she chose for herself. A beautiful pink rose blossoming right under my gaze.
Leading her to the bed, we both climb on and rest our backs against the headboard, our legs extended and in less than two seconds, entangled.
“Before we talk, or do anything,” Roos reaches for my hand, “could we maybe agree not to talk about Lex. I just… I don’t want to. It’s too confusing right now.”
Xir name is like a thorn in my side, puncturing the floaty feeling I’ve been riding high on since I saw Roos downstairs.
“Fine with me,” I say and bring Roos’ fingers up to my lips. Maybe this is how Roos and I survive this – by just pretending xe doesn’t exist. “If it were up to me, I’d never want to talk about xem ever again.”
Roos blinks at me, her face momentarily void of any decipherable emotion, and then she smiles again. “Okay,” she says in a soft voice. “Now, tell me about your day.”