Tattooed On You

III: Tension

"I mean it, Mia. He is so yummy. In every sense of the word. The eyes, the arms with the tattoos, the stubble, the damn accent. It's just...ugh." I sigh dramatically while switching the phone to my other ear so I can lay on my side.

"So, let me get this straight. In just twenty-four hours you didn't meet one, but two of the most perfect guys, and now you want to use one so you won't fuck the other?" I can hear her chew on something, and if I had to make a guess, I think she's eating chocolate toffees.

Gosh, how I miss eating chocolate toffees in bed with her. Even when she eats them before dinner which results in hunger-lack.

"I mean, it's not using. If I have sex with John, he'd be getting some too," I disagree, even though I know that in theory, she is right.

My way of thinking can't be healthy.

"Okay, but can I just point one thing out real quick?" She rushes, to which I hum. "You don't want to do anything with Hero because he is your roommate and you're afraid it will lead to trouble where you live. But John is your colleague. What happens if you get into trouble with him? When I said distraction, I didn't really mean bang a co-artist in the back of the tattoo shop, Jo."

Damn it, she's right. In between all the delicious guys and hormones that reacted to said guys, I completely ignored that I'm supposed to work with him. Not bang him.

"He's only in London for three months. By the time it has time to blow in my face, he's long gone," I weakly respond.

I'm trying so hard to rectify my way of thinking, but I know it's useless, and by the sound of Mia's sigh and light chuckle, she knows exactly what I'm trying to do.

"As if you're ever gonna last three months after what that dickhead did to you. You're rebounding, Jo. You've done so since Sha-"

"Don't say his name, Mia. Don't. We agreed," I interupt her roughly, the nagging feeling already creeping up my spine at just the first three letters.

"You think you'll ever get over him?" She softly asks, hasitant.

I wish I could say I am over him. I wish I could ask her why the hell she thinks I'm not over him. But I already know. He hurt me in a way I've never been hurt. Hurt that goes beyond the broken heart. And I'm not over that. Maybe I am over him, but the hurt he left behind... I doubt I'll ever be over that too.

"Maybe John will help me get over him," I try again, mostly to lighten the my mood and to silently tell Mia to drop the subject.

"For the love of every hot men on this planet, Jo. If you loose your job, I'm not paying your rent and I'm not taking you back in either."

Now Mia, I know that's not true. She would never.

But Jesus, why is being single this complicated for women while I'm living with three guys that make it seem effortlessly easy? They have girls on call for fuck sakes.

"I hate hormones, being horny, and being a woman," I mumble as I sit up. I throw a glance at the clock next, noting that it's almost seven. "Mia, I have to hang. I promised to cook tonight."

"Ah, so it's the famous chicken burgers with feta and sweet potatoes to impress them?" Mia giggles.

She knows me too well.

"As I should. Talk later?"

"Talk later, bimbo," she confirms, and after our traditional bye, bye, hiya we hang up the phone.

I've send a message in the group chat this afternoon, offering to cook dinner tonight, and as expected, all three of them were down. Morgz said that he would be home around eight, so he asked if we were okay with waiting. After we all agreed, I got the groceries I need after I was done with work.