Twist Me by Mia Monroe

 

One

Grey

“I really think we should go, Grey. He’s asked you like three times.”

Reaching over to my tray, I grab a paper towel to wipe the area I just finished on Mac’s arm. The cache of Alice in Wonderland characters cascading down his arm is gonna be fucking amazing when it’s done. I want to get the details on this hat just right, but he won’t stop talking to me about Mitsu’s workshops.

“I told you there’s no reason to go. I’m not participating.”

“I want to go. Besides, you should go because he’s your friend. You know, like support. Like you do for me all the time.”

Mac’s words hit me square in the gut. He’s right. I should go because I’ve been asked numerous times. It’s clear that Mitsu wants me there. It’s just that…

“You know how I feel about close quarters and lots of people. Plus being tied up? Are you kidding me?”

Mac tilts his head, giving me the look he’s given me repeatedly over the years since we met, or I should say re-met, at a volunteer event for an LGBTQ+ youth center. We didn’t talk much in high school, but that’s only because we didn’t know we had so much in common before I changed schools. Now, as adults, he’s my best friend.

“He won’t make you participate if you don’t want to,” Mac says. “Remember when we were talking a few weeks ago at the holiday party? He was totally chill about it. He just wants to show it to you. He wants you to experience it, even just visually.”

Of course I remember the party. The heat of his hand on my lower back had burned through me like a hot iron, but instead of pain, I’d felt something I couldn’t describe. I didn’t back away. Didn’t flinch. I let him touch me, and it’s unnerved me ever since.

“He likes you, Grey.”

“I know.”

“I mean he likes you, likes you.”

I roll my eyes, gesturing for Mac to sit back so I can continue working. He does, and I ignore the comment for several minutes while I continue shading the top hat.

“Have you even thought of trying?” Mac asks.

“Trying what? Shibari? No.”

Mac gives me an exasperated look. “No. Talking to Mitsu.”

“I talk to him a lot.”

“For fuck’s sake. You know what I mean. He likes you.”

“He doesn’t. Not like that. It is one hundred percent platonic. I don’t even think he’s into guys. In fact, I’m not sure he’s into anyone. He never talks about dating or suggests it. Doesn’t talk about anyone in his past. Maybe he’s asexual or something.”

“Maybe. He just seems so taken with you.”

“I think it’s your imagination.” I wipe the spot again, analyzing the coloring, then return to do more shading. “Mitsu is way out of my league. I wouldn’t know the first place to start with a man like him. What could I offer him?”

“You. Your big heart, your compassion, your friendship. You’re an awesome person. Mitsu obviously thinks so too. Don’t you notice the way he looks at you?”

Yes, I’ve noticed the way he studies me like I’m a new species he just discovered, but Mitsu looks at lots of things that way. He’s an observer. He watches and listens more than speaks. And yes, I like it when he looks at me. I love it when he lowers his voice so only I can hear, like he’s creating a world with just the two of us in it. And yes, I pine for every opportunity to see him again. I just can’t imagine it’s anything more than curiosity or friendship he seeks. He’s this enigma of a man—almost otherworldly—as if he only exists in my mind. He offers little about himself, but I would dance with the devil himself to know everything there is about Mitsu. And I know why I won’t go to the workshop. If I can’t tell Mac, who can I tell?

“I’m afraid somehow he’ll get me to do it,” I admit, finally happy with the hat. “He has a way of tapping into my psyche that no one else ever has.”

“Why is that bad?” Mac asks gently.

“What if I panic? What if I ruin everything?”

Mac nods. “Fair concerns. Maybe you should just tell him, though, so he doesn’t think you’re not interested in it or in him. It’s obviously really important to him.”

“You’re right. I owe him that, at least.”

“And you don’t have to get into things you’re not ready to talk about.” Mac nods, smiling as he speaks. “You can just tell him you’re a massive control freak.”

We both laugh. “I am not.”

“Kind of. Seriously, bro, just tell him you’re claustrophobic and shy. Both true.”

“True.”

“Call him right now. I’ll wait.”

“I’ll call him later.”

Mac raises an eyebrow. “Will you now?”

Laughing softly, I sit up straight. “You know me far too well.”

“We’ve been through hell and back. Comes with the territory.”

“Yeah.” I pick up my phone from my workstation and scroll to his name. He doesn’t enjoy texting, he told me, so a proper phone call is in order. It rings twice, and then his voice, that soft, nearly hypnotic voice, says my name.

“Grey. Hello. How are you?”

“Hi, Mitsu. I’m good. You?”

“Always well. Thank you.”

“Great.” I glance at Mac, who nods encouragingly. “I was calling to see if the invitation for Saturday is still open?”

“Yes. I will always make room for you.”

My stomach flutters from his words. “Okay, great, but um, I just want to watch. Mac might volunteer, but I can’t. I’m just too—”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want. Ever. I will never ask you to participate if it makes you uncomfortable. I would love it if you came to see what I do; to understand it, see it with your own eyes.”

I swallow hard. “I’d like that.”

“Wonderful. I will email you the address and time. If Mac wishes to participate, I will put clothing recommendations in as well.”

“Cool. Great. Yeah.” Shut up, Grey.

“I’m looking forward to seeing you again, Grey. Thank you for calling and for accepting.”

“Thanks for asking. I’m, um, looking forward to seeing you too.”

“Wonderful. See you Saturday.”

“Yes. Bye, Mitsu.”

“Bye, Grey.”

I end the call and exhale slowly. “I did it.”

“Like a boss. Proud of you, man. Way to step out of that comfort zone.”

“Thanks for encouraging me. It feels good now that I’ve done it.”

“That’s what I’m here for.” He pats my hand. “You would do the same for me.”

“I would. I’m gonna finish this section, and then we can end the session.”

“Sounds good.”

Mac leans back, and I continue working on the Mad Hatter tilting down Mac’s arm. Casper sets an iced coffee and two pastelitos on my station.

“Dude. Thank you!”

“No problem,” Casper says, smiling. “I went for a coffee run and stopped by to see Saint. Figured I’d grab you a couple. I know you haven’t taken a break yet today.”

“Thank you. I will after I’m done with Mac.”

Mac frowns. “I thought I told you not to push so hard. You could’ve taken a break and bumped me to another day.”

“You’re a paying customer, Mac. You deserve the same treatment everyone else gets.”

Casper smiles, patting my back. I’m expecting some kind of comment or advice. My whole life, people have been telling me what I should do, but instead he tells me to enjoy the pastries and goes to his station and starts talking with Sam.

“Casper’s cool,” Mac says quietly. “I would totally go for a guy like him if he wasn’t locked down already.”

I nod. “He’s different now. He used to be kind of playful and never serious, but he’s mellowed the last few months, in a good way. He still knows how to get a laugh out of us.”

“It’s probably that hunky Scottish man he’s with.”

“Probably.” I focus on my work again, thankful for Mac’s rare silence. I just can’t imagine Mitsu would want anything romantic with me, and if he did, what would I do? Could I look that god of a man in the face and tell him about my past? The thought chills me to the bone. Normally, I don’t care, but my last few experiences have made me more cautious.

“Hey,” Mac says after several minutes of silence.

I shift my eyes up, waiting for his comment.

“You have a lot to offer.”

A reluctant smile pulls at my lips. Mac can read me like a book.

“Let’s cross one bridge at a time. I’ll deal with Saturday and go from there.”

“I think it’s going to be fun.”

I half-shrug. “We’ll see.”

After Mac leaves, I clean up my station, still lost in thought over Mitsu. I can’t believe I agreed to go to a workshop. It feels so intimate, but at least Mac will get to live out a fantasy. I’ll just focus on that part and not being in Mitsu’s home. As if his presence alone isn’t enough to shake up my carefully constructed life. He makes me want to rip the lock off my box of secrets and spill them out for him to view. If I thought he’d still accept me, I’d probably do it. But I would rather keep him at arm’s length than risk his rejection. People don’t always react the way I want them to.

I had to learn that lesson the hard way.

* * *

When Mac pulls into the driveway of Mitsu’s house, I’m hit with a downpour of nerves so intense that I’m left dizzy.

“I can’t go in there,” I blurt.

“The fuck you can’t.” Mac twists in his seat, shutting the car off. “This is a good opportunity for you to learn to trust him. He gave you his word he wouldn’t make you do anything. Believe him. He’s a professional.”

“Right.” I nod, trying to calm myself.

“It’s not like it’s a sex show.”

Exhaling, I gaze at the house. “It’s not. It’s like a cooking class or an art class. It’s just watching.”

“Exactly.” He smiles. “You’ve got this.”

I drag my fingers through my hair, quickly twisting the length up in a bun before releasing it and letting it fall free again. It’s my famous tell when I’m anxious. But why am I so fucking nervous?

“Why can I work in a busy tattoo shop, but walking into a room of strangers is terrifying?”

“Because in the tattoo shop you’re in your own world. You feel safe with the guys you work with. This is new and scary, but you’ve conquered lots of scary things. You can conquer this too.”

I nod, straightening my shoulders. “Let’s go in before I shit myself.”

“Definitely don’t want that to happen.”

After exiting the car, we approach the front door. His house is sweet. A perfectly manicured lawn with carefully placed shrubs that lead up a brick walking path. We’re standing under an awning, which helps to block out the sun, but when the door opens, the lighting behind Mitsu makes him look like he’s glowing. My heart rate speeds up as I take in his appearance: loose-fitting white linen pants hanging low on his hips, his shirtless torso, chiseled to the point of looking like he achieved his physique through CGI, and his hair, all that glorious hair, hanging like black silk around his perfect face. Oh, and that face, a living sculpture of male beauty, leaves me breathless every time I see him. The edge of his jaw looks sharp enough to cut glass. His nose is smallish, but his lips are full and his eyes are set perfectly on his face. Dark brown but with a warmth that makes it seem like he’s trapped sunlight in them. He is, in a word, breathtaking.

As my eyes finally meet his, he smiles, the beauty of it warming me even more than the sun on my back. I swallow, pleading with my brain to form words in the face of Mitsu’s overwhelming presence.

“Welcome to my home.”

Mac nudges my arm, giving me a look as he answers, “Thanks for having us.”

“Yes.” It’s the only word that would come.

“Please, come in.”

We step inside, removing our shoes as requested. It’s exactly what I have imagined for his space. Very minimalist with simple furniture in grays and whites. There is no TV and not many accessories. It’s like a chic spa lobby. My eyes flit around the space, wishing I could see more as Mitsu leads us down a hallway. He opens a door, and we enter a space that makes my mouth fall open. I’m sure it was just a second bedroom at one point, but it’s been transformed into something I couldn’t have imagined.

In the center of the room is a large wooden structure with hooks in various parts. Around that are numerous pillows that look big enough to nap on. The floor is hardwood and the walls are painted black. There is incense burning and soft music playing that reminds me of a yoga class. It’s pleasantly warm in the space, helping me to relax. Two rows of folding chairs sit in front of the wood structure, but we’re the first people here.

As if reading my thoughts, Mitsu smiles. “I thought it might be easier if you came before the other guests.”

I’m left speechless for a minute. I’ve never told him about my social issues, my discomfort with touch, or my sometimes overbearing shyness when meeting new people.

“It is easier,” I say, finding my voice. “Thank you.”

He bows slightly. “This is The Garden. It’s my workshop. It’s also my comfort. It’s where I come to relax.”

“It’s a really nice room,” Mac says.

“It is,” I agree, struggling to find words as my senses process all this newness. “How often do you, um, teach?”

“Monthly for group sessions. I do a lot of private instruction as well.”

“Private?” I’m not sure why that word chose to come out of me but there it is.

Mitsu nods. “Many people prefer one-on-one instruction.”

“Sure. Of course. Right.” Ugh.

“I would love to volunteer,” Mac says.

Mitsu directs his intense gaze to my friend. “Wonderful.” When he turns back to me, I almost gasp. Fuck. He’s so beautiful. “As I stated, I won’t ask you to do anything. You can simply observe.” He takes a step toward me. “I’m very happy you came.”

“Thank you.”

“I have a bit more to do to set up, but please, look around. Make yourself comfortable.”

Yeah, right. “We will.”

After he walks to the other side of the room, I nearly slump against the wall with relief. His presence requires active participation. He captures my every sense but scares me too. It’s like he can see more than I show him, and I don’t like that. I reveal what I want when I want. It’s just that my normal force field seems to be defective when it comes to Mitsu.

“He’s so hot,” Mac whispers. “Bro. My dude. Get that.”

I blink as if breaking a spell. “What?”

“Get that. Him. Do whatever it takes.”

“Oh god, we’re still on that?”

“We’re still on that until you’re on that.” He tilts his head in Mitsu’s direction. “If he looked at me the way he looks at you for even five seconds, I’d strip down and beg him to love me.”

I laugh in spite of myself. “You’re silly.”

“We both know this. Seriously though, Grey, you have to notice how he looks at you.”

“I notice. I just don’t know what it means.”

“It means he wants in them tight jeans of yours.”

My face scrunches in response to that thought as if I just smelled something rancid. “Oh god. I couldn’t. Not with him. He’s too...perfect.”

Mac studies me for a few seconds until his face softens. “So are you, Grey. You’re worthy.” He steps closer. “This isn’t like you. You have a ton of body confidence. What’s up?”

I start to speak, but a woman enters the room, smiling. She bows when she sees us then makes her way over to Mitsu.

“See,” I say. “Girlfriend.”

“That’s a hell of a leap.”

“She let herself in. She walked right over to him, and now they’re talking.”

“I can see how that would automatically mean she’s his girl. Sure, Grey.”

“She could be.”

Mitsu is now walking in our direction with the pretty girl beside him. “Guys, this is Jessa, my model for the day. Jessa, this is Grey and Mac.”

Jessa smiles, flashing pretty white teeth. Her brown hair is pinned on top of her head and she’s wearing leggings and a sports bra. She’s petite but solid. She must be some kind of athlete or a fitness buff with a body like that. I want to ask how long they’ve been together. I want to know so I can end any thoughts that Mitsu might possibly be interested in me. There’s just no way.

“How long have you been modeling for Mitsu?” Mac asks.

“Just twice. Are you volunteering?”

“I am,” Mac offers. “Grey is watching.”

“Awesome. I hope you love it. I think it’s the most amazing feeling in the world.”

“Why?” I ask.

“For me, it’s a release,” she says, her voice sounding dreamy. “I work a really demanding job. I travel a lot, and because I’m in a male-dominated industry, I spend my days fighting for my right to be there. It’s exhausting. I’d tried massage, mediation, yoga, and the gym, and then a friend of mine introduced me to Mitsu. It was life-changing. In his ropes, I can just let go. No fighting, no stress, no pushing so hard to succeed. I just give in and let it take me somewhere else.”

I want that.

The thought flashes through my mind, leaving me unsteady in its wake. I want to feel the release, yes, but I could never do it by being restrained. I don’t get how that is relaxing or freeing. It seems the opposite of that.

Jessa excuses herself, and as more people file in, my nerves kick up. Mac knows this and calms me by bumping his leg against mine. I nod, appreciating his attempt to ground me. As the workshop begins, Mitsu stands in front of us. I try to focus on his words, but my mind is fixated on every stunning detail. Could Mac be right? Could Mitsu really be interested in me, or am I making a fool of myself as his pretty girlfriend stands right next to him?

And if he is interested in me, what the hell would I do about it?