Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
T he woman behind the counter rolled her hooded eyes toward Roman and I wasn’t sure if she was going to serve him or vomit on him.
Unfazed, Roman placed our pot order. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d be party to that.
With our paper bag of goodies in hand, we wove through the abundant lounges and chairs until we found a couple of padded stools that looked like miniature, stuffed wine barrels at the back of the room. While Roman opened the bag and prepared our order, I wriggled my stool around so I could take in all the sights.
A young man to my right, who looked like he should be in senior school, was staring at his hand like he had a tarantula crawling on it. The woman beside him, with a ring through her nose big enough to lead a brahman bull, released a cloud of smoke from her mouth and flopped back to watch it float up to the ceiling.
Music filtered through the hum of the crowd. It was an awkward twangy beat that would suit any tacky Indian restaurant. Worse still, however, was that it shot me back seventeen years to a time in my life I’d rather forget.
“Hey, are you okay?”
Being the kind of telepathic sorcerer that he was, Roman somehow knew when one of my dreadful memories plagued me. I nodded a little too enthusiastically and immediately regretted that mistake.
He glided his padded stool over and draped his arm over my shoulder. “If you don’t want to do this, we can walk out right now.”
“I don’t want to do this.”
“Okay, fine. But let’s talk about it first.” He eased back, and the look on his face had my heart melting. “Want to tell me what you’re thinking?”
In that very instant, I saw another level of what it meant to have a true friend. Roman really did care for me. What happened to me affected him. That had to be the meaning of true friendship.
I was the luckiest woman in the world.
“Dais, I don’t know what’s upsetting you, but I want to. You can share anything with me.”
I sighed. For years I’d never wanted to share any of those rotten memories. But if there was one thing I’d learned since I met Roman, it was that he was a good listener. And that he cared. And that he had the most amazing eyes I’d ever seen.
Bloody hell, maybe all that potent smoke in the air is already affecting me.
I wiped my eyes and leaned into his shoulder. The warmth from his body told me that no matter what I said, it was going to be okay. “It’s just this music . . . it reminds me of something in my childhood.”
He nodded as if picturing what I was talking about, but his silence left me no choice but to continue.
“It was when I was twelve. We’d been at a new trailer park in the Adelaide Hills. It was only our third day there. Mother always made it her mission to get to know the neighbors quickly.”
Tarantula boy to our side suddenly shrieked and shot to his feet like his ass was on fire. Screeching, he dashed out of the teahouse. Not a single person raced after him.
Roman and I shared a what-the-fuck look, then he shrugged and squeezed my shoulder. “What were you saying?”
“Mother was always keen to meet the neighbors whenever we went to a new place. It wasn’t hard. Just pump up the music. Usually this type of hippy stuff.” I waved my hand indicating the twangy affront to our ears blasting from invisible speakers. “Anyway, she started dancing without shoes on the grass, and of course, she drew a crowd.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“Yeah. Mother knew how to be the life of a party. Especially when there were men around.”
A memory reared its ugly head. Mother dancing in a flimsy white shirt that did nothing to hide her nipples. Her blue feather earrings slanting this way and that as she spun and twirled to the hippy music. The smoke from her joint pirouetting above her. Four men standing around, beers in hand, goofy looks on their faces, no doubt hoping they’d get into bed with her come darkness.
“Hey.” Roman placed his hand on my leg. “You still with me?”
“Yeah.”
The middle-aged man in a tie-dyed T-shirt to my left puffed out a perfect smoke ring and after it disappeared into nothing, I turned my gaze back to Roman. “Anyway, her dancing always attracted a crowd. It was Mother’s pot-smoking and sex that kept them there. ”
“Oh, Dais.” He tugged me closer. “There’s something else. Isn’t there?”
“Yeah, later that night, after the music had died down, everything went quiet. But it was too quiet, you know?”
He nodded, but how could he know?
“In a trailer park, it was rare. There was always a TV on, or music, or kids crying or people yelling at each other. Anyway, I went in search of Mother.” I blinked up at Roman, hardly able to believe I was telling him this, yet at the same time glad that I was. Huffing out a sigh, I said, “That was the first time I found her passed out with a needle in her arm.”
“Oh, jeez.” His eyes bulged. “Daisy, I’m so sorry.”
“No need to be sorry.” I shrugged again. “She survived. She always survived. It was ironic that now though even with the hospital needles injecting her with life-saving medicine, that she wasn’t going to survive.”
“I can’t imagine what you went through.”
I shrugged. “I didn’t know any different. And I survived too.”
He pulled back, nodding. “Now I understand why you are so worried, and like I said, we don’t have to do this. But I promise you, it’s not going to be like that. It’s not going to lead to anything else. It’s just a bit of fun.”
He studied me with those gorgeous honey eyes, and I knew I could trust him to look after me.
“If you want to stop, I understand.”
Did I want to stop? On the one hand it made me hypocritical to bitch about my mother’s drug habits when I was considering partaking in it myself. On the other, I was my own person, and by not doing it because of her stupidity, then she’d won. It wasn’t like I planned on making a habit out of it. “No,” I finally said. “We’re here now.”
He nodded and bumped his shoulder to mine. “You know what? We’re going to give you a whole new memory about marijuana.”
I smiled but wasn’t as certain about his plan. “That’d be nice.”
“Anytime you want to leave, you let me know.”
“Actually . . . do we have to do it here?” I glanced at cow-ring chic. She was still staring at the ceiling. Tarantula boy hadn’t returned, and it was impossible to tell if she’d even noticed he was missing.
“Of course not.” He shoved the bits and pieces into the paper bag and grabbed my hand.
Before I knew it, we were back on our bikes, riding through the canaled streets of Amsterdam with him leading the way. Folks were everywhere. On bikes. On foot. On trams. On the boats that floated along the canals. Young tourists with telltale accents giggled and spoke way too loudly. Elderly locals with their designer dogs held hands as they strolled along.
We reached Vondelpark again, and after ten minutes riding along the busy bikeway circumnavigating the gardens, Roman turned onto a narrow path. The farther we went, the more the silence engulfed us. It was hard to believe we were in the middle of Amsterdam.
As if he’d known it was there, Roman rode right up to an empty bench by the lake and stopped. The setting was absolutely perfect. The sun was shining. The lake was shimmering. And a cute family of ducks was swimming back and forth. Mid-city parks didn’t get much better than this.
A giant tree above us provided enough foliage to ensure my pale skin wouldn’t be glowing red by the time we got back on our bikes.
We sat, and I shared my gaze between the serene ducks scooting across the water and Roman lighting up the first joint. He held it toward me .
“How do you know it’s mine?”
“I don’t.”
I tugged my lip through my teeth. “You go first.”
His face grew serious. “Okay.” He drew on the joint, creating a glow of embers at the end, and after a plume of smoke left his lips, he handed the joint to me.
I took it from him and eyeballed the innocent-looking stick while he lit up his own.
Poised with the joint in his hand, he turned to me. “Ready?”
I shrugged. “I guess so.”
He waited until I put the joint to my lips before he did the same. I sucked the smoke into my mouth and coughed up a lung as I exhaled. “Bloody hell.” I coughed some more. “It’s like eating the mower catcher.”
“Oh, come on, it’s not that bad.” He motioned for me to try again.
I did. Putting the joint to my lips, I inhaled again. The second attempt wasn’t as brutal and I was surprised that the cherry flavor was not only present, but it was also pleasant.
Without his prompting, I inhaled on the joint again. He did the same.
So, here we are—an Aussie chick who is about to get booted out of Europe and an Italian man who is hotter than hot, smoking a joint while watching the ducks swim around the pretty lake in the middle of Amsterdam.
If I’d tried to picture this six months ago, it would never have happened. Hell, if I’d tried any time in my life, I would never have reached this scenario.
A tiny bell tinkled in my ear. Thinking a fairy had landed on my shoulder, I glanced that way. The bell tinkled again, and I frowned, unable to establish the source of the sound. “Do you hear that?”
Roman blew out a cloud of smoke .
A giggle burst from my throat. “You’re a dragon.”
“Huh?”
The giggles took over, and I laughed until tears streamed down my face.
“What?” His eyes wedged closer together. “What’s so funny, Daisy Chayne?”
“Ohhh.” I slapped his chest. “Why’d you have to ruin it?”
“What?”
“Calling me Daisy Chayne.”
“Oh. I thought that was your name.”
I cocked my head. “Der. It is.”
“Huh. So, what’s wrong with it? I think it’s cute.”
“Cute?” My jaw dropped. “Oh, my god. Don’t tell me?—”
“Tell you what?” He puffed on his joint.
I sucked on my cherry-flavored joint, and when he did that thing where he wiggled his nose, I forgot what I was going to say. “Huh? What?” I frowned and it felt like my forehead was going to fall down over my eyes.
He giggled and it was the cutest thing ever. “You’re so funny.”
“So are you.” I had another puff and when I blew out the smoke, I watched it drift high into the sky. My head fell back and hit the back of the seat. “Oweeee.”
“Oh, shit. Are you okay?”
Roman’s eyes rolled to me and it looked so weird, I began giggling. That giggle became a full-blown laugh that had me slipping off the bench. “Shit.” I grabbed onto Roman, and the two of us fell onto the grass with him landing on top of me.
I laughed so hard I was going to pee my pants. I shoved my hand between my legs but couldn’t stop giggling.
Roman leaned over the top of me. The intensity in his eyes had my giggling jolting to a stop. “What?” I blinked up at him, worried about why he’d got so serious.
He lowered his lips to mine .
A groan tumbled from my throat as the softest lips I’d ever felt squished against mine. I drove my fingers through his hair, pinning him in position. I opened my mouth, letting him know that he could explore more if he wanted.
He did, and oh, what an exploration it was.
His tongue was warm yet probing, dancing a beautiful duet that had my insides curling and my pussy throbbing.
I glided my hand up his back, then curled beneath the edge of his shirt, seeking his warm flesh. My fingers examined the muscular plains of his shoulders, feeling every delightful dip and curve. His scent was incredible, driving all the delicious shudders through me.
My eager fingers wanted more and traveled down beneath his belt, into the back of his shorts, and clutched those mounds of flesh that I’d admired many, many times.
His derriere was glorious, way better than it looked.
Roman had my breast in his hand, and all I wanted to do was tear my clothing off.
I wanted him naked and on top of me, in me.
“Break it up, you two. That’s only permitted after dark.” The voice boomed from nowhere.
It was megaphone-loud and I yelped at the intrusion. Over Roman’s shoulder, I saw the scowling face of an elderly man with a disastrous comb-over. He looked like a potato head.
“Oh shit.” I yanked my hand out of Roman’s shorts. “Roman, we have company.”
“Huh. What?” He scrunched up his face.
I pushed him off me and he flopped back like a giant rag doll. Sitting up, I glared at the old man and his equally old female partner.
“You can’t do that until it’s dark.” Potato Head pointed at the sun .
“Yeah? Well, excuse me . . .” I waggled my head. “. . . but this is a private party.”
His eyes bulged. Hers did too and the two of them scurried off like a couple of chipmunks with a fox on their tail.
The second they were gone, I burst out laughing. I never did anything like that.
Damn, it felt good.
A truckload of laughs dumped their shipment on me, and I laughed so hard I really was going to pee my pants. “Shit.” I crossed my legs.
“What?”
“I have to pee.”
He glanced around and when he looked at me with bulging eyes, I burst out laughing again. “Oh shit.” Squeezing my legs tighter, the giggles took hold. “Shit.” I couldn’t stop, yet I had to. I was on the edge of a major catastrophe. “Where’s the restroom?”
Roman remained silent.
I rolled toward him. “Hey, you okay?”
He raised what was left of his joint to his lips, inhaled deeply, and then said, “Hell yeah. I could not be better.” When he smiled through a cloud of smoke, he had achieved his mission. I now had a new memory about marijuana to replace one of the horrible old ones.
He rolled his head toward me. A dopey grin was on his face. “You should kiss me again.”
I squinted at him. Had I heard that right?
“Kiss me.” He puckered his lips like a giant goldfish. A sexy goldfish. If that was such a thing.
I imagined a sexy goldfish and burst out laughing. “Shit, if I don’t pee soon, I’ll wet my pants.”
“I’d like to see that.”
“Ewww. Gross.” Scrambling to my feet, I scanned the area. A clump of bushes near the lake offered my only cover. Impatient bodily functions required desperate actions. I grabbed his hand. “Come on. I need your help.”
“To pee?”
“No. To keep a look out.”
It was a mammoth effort to get him upright. With our arms around each other, we giggled and staggered to the bushes. “Turn around.”
“Awww, but I wanna see.”
“Oh, no you don’t. Look that way.” I pointed at a dog that was racing across the field in the distance.
He turned in that direction so quickly, he stumbled sideways and in weird slow-motion, he did a wobbly crab-walk toward the lake. Every misplaced step took him closer to the water, and I should have done something like tried to stop him, but my arms and legs wouldn’t move. All I could do was giggle and cross my legs harder. Roman managed to stop in a patch of reeds just shy of the water’s edge. He turned to me, gave a double thumbs-up signal, and I burst out laughing again.
Oh God, this was not good.
Waddling to the bike, I grabbed the small packet of tissues that I always carried. I’d been to enough toilets in Europe to know that toilet paper was a luxury, not a given. When I turned to Roman, he was leaning sideways, giving a great impersonation of the Leaning Tower of Pisa, except he was the leaning tower of perfection.
By the time I got to the clump of bushes, I was in agony. Yet I was still giggling. In fact, I was laughing so much I could barely pull my leggings down. Jiggling from foot to foot, I hooked my thumbs into the elastic at my waist but when I glanced at Roman, he was looking my way. “Hey, no peeking.”
“You’re so mean. ”
The second he turned I yanked my leggings down. I only just made it. The relief was instant.
I pulled myself together and breathed a sigh of relief.
That was close. Way too close.
By the time I returned to Roman, the adrenalin rush that had shot through me was now mingling with my marijuana brain, and I felt like I was in a weird fog.
He grabbed my hand. “Come on. We gotta find food. I could eat a dozen triple-cheese, triple-pattie burgers.”
I scrunched up my face. “Is that such a thing?”
“I don’t know, but it should be.”
I poked my tongue out. “Sounds like a heart attack on a bun.”
“Sounds like the best meal in all of Europe.”
Wow, he was tall. A giant.
He ran his tongue over his cherry popsicle lips.
I blinked up at him and frowned.
Did Roman kiss me?
We did! We kissed each other.
But would he remember it in the morning?
When he gazed down at me, the look in his eyes told me that he absolutely would.
He stepped closer. Oh God, this is it. He was drawing me in like a magnet—a smoking hot magnet. “Daisy.”
“Uh-huh.” Words had no hope of forming. Roman was going to kiss me again. Butterflies in my stomach danced and spun.
“Did you have fun?”
“Huh?” I blinked up at him.
“Did you have fun?” He exaggerated the words like he was talking through inch-thick glass.
“Oh.” I wanted to slap myself. Why, oh why did I expect something more? I forced the fog from my brain and nodded. “I did. ”
“Good.” He squeezed my hand. “I told you, you would.”
We grabbed our bikes and pushed rather than rode them along the path. And just like any normal friends would do, we chatted about all sorts of stuff, our primary focus being food. It was like it was the most normal thing in the world to do.
Except it wasn’t normal.
Nothing was normal anymore. Roman had kissed me.
But I wanted more. So much more and it was all wrong.
I felt like a bloody fool. Suddenly I had absolute clarity like I was looking at my surroundings with all my senses working at two hundred percent.
He was an incredibly handsome, single man in the prime of his life. I was an older unattractive woman with no assets, no aspirations, and soon I’d have no job and no home.
Oh, God.
Even though I already knew it was coming, the enormity of that concept slammed into me like a wrecking ball. Everything in my life was about to make a shift of seismic proportions, and there was not a single thing I could do about it.
Roman smiled at me and that wrecking ball slammed through me again.
He was the only thing that was good and right and whole in my life.
And after that kiss, I wasn’t sure I could live without him.