Page 38 of The Twins

“You could be my friend,” I suggest, knowing that what this man would want from me is much darker than a friendship.

He doesn’t hesitate. “I could.”

“But you want my body?” I pray he doesn’t hear the jitter of my voice.

“Are you open about your… sexuality?” Mr. David asks, and I force back my inappropriate giggle. Vegas wouldn’t think this conversation is funny. He’d either be disgusted, or he’d partake in it, ready to derive his pleasure later. My brother is free like that.

“Are you?” I ask in return. The tingling sensation on the back of my neck doesn’t distract me from the awkwardness of this conversation. “I haven’t explored my options. I have fantasies, but they’re a mixture of things. I’m not tied down to anything.”

“I’m gay, but—”

“Nobody knows,” I conclude. It explains Mr. David’s seemingly perfect bachelor life, although it’s a cliche if I’ve ever seen one. He nods. “Why?”

“It’s none of their business,” Mr. David replies, his voice a little too defensive for my liking.

“Did you mean it?” I swallow. “When you said I’d be a good boy if I came back.”

“You’re a good boy, regardless of my statements,” Mr. David proclaims, and it feels good. It’s a treacherous and addictive reply, the one he gave me.

I have cataloged it in the back of my head for later usage. I won’t be forgetting that line any time soon.

“I’m a pervert for luring you into my bedroom like this,” Mr. David backtracks, and he shifts on top of his bed, his face contorting in pain. He backs away and onto the pillows next to him, sending some of them flying to the ground.

“Hey there. While I agree with your self-proclaimed title because you really are a pervert, Mr. David, I would suggest you calm down before you hurt yourself some more, and then you’ll be in this situation for much longer than you can tolerate. We don’t want that, do we? Everyone appreciates your fine exterior out on the prowl, charming the neighbors. San Ricardo’s ugly when you’re not out there making it gorgeous,” I say, blushing all the way through my sentences. Something is stirring inside of me. It’s dangerous and unwanted. I’m about to begin a new chapter of my life, leaving behind San Ricardo and my family. I don’t need to form a bond with my perverted neighbor.

But I do.

And the regrets?

Missing in action.

“Can you go full pervert on me for a moment?” I ask, sincere and not joking at all.

“You wouldn’t like that. You’re too pure for that,” he says, lowering his gaze. His lashes are thick and long, too addictive for my own good.

“Isn’t that what all perverts say? That was perfect. But I want something dirtier than that. Challenge me!” I urge him in delight, amused by his tortured face. The guilt I usually feel in front of others for being me is absent from our exchange, and he isn’t bothered by our strange conversation.

“Join me on this bed.” I kick off my shoes, and I move over to his side of the room, settling on the bed like I’ve been here before when I never have. “I’m not going to do anything you haven’t verbally agreed to.”

I nod. “Can I lie down next to you?”

“Sure.” His loop-sided grin ends me. “As the pervert of this relationship, I’m supposed to ask for dirty things. You’re not supposed to be this easy on me.”

Out of spite, I take my place next to him, and I make myself comfortable. He throws his arm around me, pulling me close to his warm body. “Is that okay?”

I nod, inhaling the sensation of intimacy.

“Say it.”

“Yes, it’s more than okay.”

“Your parents will already kill me if they find out I invited you to my bedroom. You’re too young, Remo. It’s not healthy what we’re doing—”

“But we’ll do it, anyway?” I intervene.

“No. We must try not to.” His words are final, but I haven’t met a no I can’t bend. I’m adorable, and I mean well. He can’t possibly hurt me, can he? My parents are next door… How stupid am I? Predators hurt kids when their parents breathe the same air as them.

“You froze up,” Mr. David comments in observation.

“This is a bad idea, isn’t it?” He nods. I place my hand on his chest, and I take a deep breath. “All the best ones are. Not that you’re the best thing that’s—”

He clears his throat. “You must find yourself a partner of your age. I can help you.”

“But I want to be your good boy. You made it sound easy. I can do anything you ask for,” I beg.

Mr. David strokes my arm absentmindedly. “Being in love, sacrificing yourself, isn’t easy. It shouldn’t be.”

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