Page 21 of Winging It with You

I snort. “All this over a finance bro?” I joke, reaching over and grabbing his thigh. “Come on, guapo—we have standards!”

Asher stares at me and then bursts out laughing. “You’re so right,” he says, half laughing or maybe even crying at this point. “My brother not-so-discreetly called him a discount fuckboy and I always secretly loved that.”

“Your brother sounds like my kinda guy.”

A soft little smile that I’d like to trace with my fingertips flickers across his face before he leans his head on my shoulder.

“Thanks for listening,” he says, his voice practically a whisper. “I haven’t gotten to talk about any of this with anyone.”

“What about your parents?” I whisper back against the softness of his sweet-smelling hair.

“Especially them. We don’t have that kind of relationship,” he says, leaning back on his hands.

“They’re good people and mean well. But they’ve always had this sort of hands-off approach when it comes to the emotional stuff.

I think in their minds, they were setting us up for success by learning from life’s lessons alone, when in reality, we probably just needed… a hug.”

“Are you hinting that you want a hug?” I ask after a moment, partially joking.

“Kinda.”

Now this is something I can help with. I jump to my feet, extending my hand in his direction. “Get over here.”

His cheeks redden as he stands, making the freckles on the bridge of his nose more noticeable in the glowing moonlight. “You don’t have to…”

Putting my hands on my hips, I do my best dad power pose. “I said…Get. Over. Here.”

I open my arms as widely and dramatically as humanly possible, calling him over with a nod of my head.

He’s clearly on the fence, torn between receiving the hug he just flat-out asked for and figuring out if said hug from the man that’s pretending to be his boyfriend is weird.

“Asher Bennett, you better not leave me hanging here…”

He doesn’t much longer.

Slowly, he steps forward, closing the distance between us and wrapping his long but hesitant arms around my waist. He’s stiff and rigid as I pull him tight against me, and I can only imagine the confused and irritated expression on that pinched face of his, but eventually, Asher completely and wholeheartedly exhales.

“I think this trip is going to be good for you,” I say, my chin now resting against the side of his head. He smells like cinnamon and clove and his hair just might be the softest thing I’ve ever felt.

“Why’s that?”

“Because you’re the one with the actual new chapter ahead of you,” I whisper, recalling when I rehearsed these words to myself, afraid the honesty behind them might be too much for him. “Not the other way around.”

He nods in silent agreement or resigned acceptance, and the two of us are left swaying just slightly in the night air with the warmth of Asher’s cheek resting on my shoulder and his arms tightening around my waist.

/////////////

You’d think Jo’s early wake-up calls would start to get easier.

You’d be wrong.

Her thunderous pounding on our door shakes me awake. I would have been pissed, but I feel the heat of Asher’s leg pressed against mine, so Jo’s aggressive knocking is quickly forgiven and forgotten.

“Morning,” he says, eyes squinting in the morning light. Asher’s bedhead is something to behold, his blond locks sticking out in every direction. It’s both hilarious and wildly endearing. “Sorry,” he mumbles and slowly scoots away from me.

If there’s one thing this trip has shown me it’s that I had forgotten just how nice it is to wake up next to someone. Even if they constantly put space between you.

We each shower—separately—and make our way down to the lobby in search of caffeine and carbs before we have to join everyone else to head to the airport. Again.

Ellie practically runs into us the moment we step out of the elevator, worry all over her face.

“You haven’t seen a teal backpack around, have you?” she asks, her voice teetering on the edge of panic. “I know I had it when I came down this morning, but I can’t find it anywhere.”

Asher and I shake our heads. “Sorry, kiddo,” I say. “But we just got down here. We can help you look, though.”

Jenn joins us from across the lobby. “Alright, sweetie,” she says, wrapping an arm around her daughter’s shoulder. “I talked to the hotel manager and asked them to keep an eye out for it.”

“Our passports are in there,” Ellie groans, covering her face with her hands in frustration. “We won’t be able to travel if I can’t find it. I’m so sorry, Mom.”

Jenn tucks Ellie even more tightly under her arm. “Oh, honey, we’ll figure it out. Don’t you worry.”

“Where was the last place you saw it?” Asher asks, his tired eyes filled with concern.

“I had just come down from our room with our luggage cart and was starving so I set my stuff down there.” Ellie points to the small seating area just beyond the hotel’s coffee bar. “And I went to grab some juice and toast. When I got back, I noticed the backpack was gone.”

If her bag was indeed stolen, it’s long gone now, but saying that would be the opposite of helpful.

Asher bites the inside of his cheek. “Well, you both stay with the bags,” he says, turning toward Jenn and me.

“And Ellie and I can take another lap…just in case. You said teal, right?” he asks, and Ellie nods.

“Cool. Oh, will you grab me a coffee?” he asks me, placing a welcome touch on my arm. “A little cream and…”

“Yeah, yeah. Three sugars,” I finish. “I’ve been paying attention, Bennett.”

His face splits into a wide grin. “I can see that.”

Jenn and I plop down in the armchairs at the far end of the lobby after helping ourselves to some much-needed coffee and pastries.

I loaded two pieces of pan con tomate on my plate, one for Asher and one for me, and my mouth practically floods with drool over the toasted bread and the salted tomatoes.

“I don’t know about you,” Jenn says, peering over our mountain of shared bags, “but I am exhausted.”

“Extremely.”

She sips her coffee, raising her eyebrows at me. “So, is this what you expected it to be? The competition?”

I could double over in laughter.

Nothing about any aspect of my life right now is what I expected it to be. Not being grounded from work and having all this unplanned free time. Or competing on a hit reality show.

And I certainly was not expecting whatever is going on between Asher and me.

But before I can respond, a commotion across the lobby pulls our attention.

“So let me get this straight.” Asher’s sudden raised voice echoes around us. “You just happened to find her bag on your floor and were bringing it down to the front desk? I don’t buy it.”

He’s facing off against Jackson, whose arms are crossed against his chest. “I don’t need you to buy it. That’s what happened,” he scoffs back, a smirk forming at the corner of his thin lips.

I don’t know how, but I instantly know he’s lying.

“It’s fine, Asher. Really. All that matters is…” she says, riffling through the bag’s pockets and visibly relaxing when she withdraws what she’d been worried about, “these.” She holds the two passports up.

Jenn and I take a step closer, hoping to defuse the escalating situation. “She’s right, Ash,” I say, reaching out to put a supportive hand on his back. “Let’s just go meet Arthur at the van.”

“No, we all agreed to the same rules on day one,” Asher says, shrugging away from me and taking a step closer to Jackson, who’s now rolling his eyes and looking entirely bored. “I want him to admit he was trying to mess with her and got caught.”

But the elevator doors ping open and Russell, Dalton’s executive assistant and right-hand man, comes strolling into the lobby, his eyes both annoyed and entirely bored by the spectacle he’s just walked into.

“I’m sorry, is there a problem here?” he asks like he’s just been entirely inconvenienced by our presence.

“You’re sweet as sugar to ask,” Jenn quickly says, laying on what I’m learning is her signature charm. “But we’re all good here, aren’t we, boys?”

Asher shakes his head, clearly disappointed he didn’t get Jackson to admit to any wrongdoing, but turns and leads Ellie away from the redheaded menace. “We’re fine,” he says through gritted teeth.

“Good,” Russell says pointedly, and proceeds to walk directly through us. “Let’s remember our surroundings going forward.”

My intrusive thoughts really want me to stick out my leg to trip him, but he speed walks straight out the front door before I get the chance, leaving us in his wake.

Jackson follows without another word, which is for the best, and Jenn, Ellie, Asher, and I start collecting our bags to begin loading them outside.

“You good?” I ask Asher, placing a hand on his back.

He rakes his fingers through his blond hair, nodding as he does, and the four of us make our way to the parking lot where our various vans wait for us.

“I’m proud of you,” I say, and I really mean it. Watching him stand up for Ellie reminded me of times when I wished someone had stood up for me. Someone in your corner like that, regardless of how trivial the situation, changes everything.

“It was nothing,” he says, a slight blush spreading beneath his glasses.

But it wasn’t nothing. Instead of telling him so or that I hope all this is helping him stand up for himself with the same passion, I just smile and climb into the back of the van with him.