Twisted Together by Mandoline Creme Page A

things.
    My
roommate shrugged into his ears. “Alright.”
    I
hadn't readied myself for that .
“I—what? Just... just like that, you're on board?” How
rich is he!? I'd
seen his car, his clothes, his brand new phone. Had I wildly under
guessed his generosity?
    “ Here's
the thing,” he said, arching against the wall with a long yawn.
The muscles along his sides flexed, rippling like rough seas. “You
need money, something I happen to have a lot of. I can make your
problem go away. But,” he sighed, tossing the envelope at me
abruptly, “I want you to help me in return.”
    I
barely caught the paper, surprised by the weight of it when I did. It
was the size of a postcard, the writing on the front lovely and
curled. “Uh, sure man. That's fair.” I
think. “What
do you need my help with?”
    He
twirled a finger in the air, still watching me far too intently for
my comfort. “Open that, read it.”
    Things
were going off the rails. I'd thrown together my plan to ask for a
loan in seconds, now I was handling a curve-ball so big I couldn't
see around it. Gingerly, I tore open the letter. The paper itself
felt expensive, prompting me to set the ripped envelope on the coffee
table like it was worth something. “This is...” Unfolding
the card-stock, my eyes skimmed down the glossy print. “An
invitation to a party?”
    “ The
Gold Swan Event,” Kris explained, stepping towards the couch. I
watched him briefly, his approach making my neck prickle. I returned
to reading the letter, listening to him speak in that soft way of
his. “It's run by some very important people. Most notably, as
far as I'm concerned, my father. Ever hear of Vanilla Pinings?”
    My
eyebrows vanished into my messy bangs. “Who hasn't?” They
make the best ice cream ever! “But
uh, I'm confused. I still don't get why—”
    “ My
father,” Kris cut me off, “wants me to take over this
company. I don't. I'm not like him, could care less about all this
greed. I want to travel and—well, never mind. The thing is,
Vanilla Pinings is a very 'family' oriented company.”
    He
was standing over me on the couch, I caught a whiff of his warm
scent. Swallowing uneasily, I offered the invitation to him. “So...”
    “ So,”
he whispered, taking the paper from me, “I have a plan for
removing myself as an option from that whole mess. A plan I need your
help with.” He fixed his fierce blue eyes on me, freezing me in
place. My fingers were gripping my own thighs in a vice. “I
need you to be my date to this event.”
    The
twinge of pain from how big my eyes went cut straight to my brain.
“Your what!? ”
    “ My
date.”
    “ I—that's...
dude, I'm not... you know...” Waving my hands, I struggled with
how to explain myself while not offending him. “I like girls,
uh, only girls.”
    Kris's
laugh startled me, his hands smoothing his hair. “I'm not gay,
Jack.”
    My
tongue felt like it was two sizes too big for my mouth. “Then
why...?”
    “ I
need my father to think I'm gay. That way,” he explained, “he'll stop considering
me for this 'family oriented' job. Then I'm free of that shit for
good.”
    With
the talk we were having, I was suddenly conscious of how near to me
his bare skin was. Casually as I could, I inched sideways along the
couch. “You want me to go to this event with you as your date,
just to fool your dad. That's it?”
    “ That's
it.”
    “ And
I'll get the money I need?”
    Kris
flashed me his porcelain teeth; they were as straight as he claimed
to be. “Exactly. One evening pretending we're a couple. We have
a deal?” He extended a hand, long fingers expectant, waiting.
    Maybe
I should have thought about it further. Maybe I should have decided
there were better ways.
    But
what, really, could be easier than playing pretend for one night?
    Reaching
out, I gave his hand a hard squeeze. “Deal.”

    ****

    The
event, according to the invitation, was tomorrow evening. I thought
the most I'd need to do was make