Page 25 of Winging It with You

Asher

Ria Park Garden Hotel

Algarve, Portugal

Arthur and Jo wait for the most inconvenient moment to demand social content.

Theo was abnormally quiet when he returned to the room this morning.

It’s weird—we’ve been sharing a bed for only a short amount of time yet before I’d even opened my eyes, it’s like some part of me knew he wasn’t there.

We took turns getting ready, the quiet between us twisting my stomach into anxious little knots, and when we made our way to down to the lobby together, it was Arthur’s face that greeted us the second the elevator doors opened.

“I promise, this’ll be quick,” he calls over his shoulder and leads us out the hotel door and around the building.

Jo and Arthur have a knack for finding partially secluded outdoor spaces to film these things in, which I’m not complaining about considering doing them with an audience is the definition of my personal hell.

Per usual, Jo is waiting for us while stress-scrolling on her tablet. Arthur seems to have ditched his usual camera setup and is going for something more mobile; I see a phone hooked up to some sort of stabilization apparatus between the lights.

“Hopefully you two are rested and settled into your room. Do you need anything?” she asks, not looking up from her screen.

Jo is quite literally the employee who’s constantly putting out dozens of professional fires.

But I’m learning that regardless of how demanding her job is or the fact that she’s constantly juggling nine trillion things at once, there isn’t anything she wouldn’t do for her contestants.

Theo and I shake our heads.

“Excellent—whaddya say we knock out a social video and then all grab a bite after? I’m starving.” She slides her tablet into her messenger bag and crosses her arms. At the mention of food, my stomach growls.

“I could eat,” Arthur chimes in as he digs through his own bag, retrieving various cords and plugging them into his setup.

“Since Asher did the last one,” Jo says, stepping forward to physically manipulate Theo and me, “I think we oughta let Theo have a turn.”

“How kind of you,” he says, sticking his tongue out at her, but she just flings his big arm around my shoulder.

I have to remind myself I’m not supposed to like having Theo all over me this much.

That none of this is real and every time he shows the slightest hint of affection toward me, it’s because Jo’s making him or it’s for the cameras.

But still.

He’s unfairly attractive, and being pressed against his body the way I am now all but forces my mind to fixate on how sturdy he feels next to me.

Theo shifts his weight from one leg to the other, causing his thick thigh to flex ever so slightly against mine. I grit my teeth and shove my free hand in my pocket so I’m not tempted to brush against said thigh.

“The two of you are getting a lot of love online already” she says, a smile pulling at the corner of her mouth as she fusses with the sleeve of my shirt. “#Thasher has been trending again. It’s cute, don’t you think? I love it.”

She must decide that my appearance is as good as it’s going to get, because she gives up trying to get the edge of my sleeve to lay flat and instead grabs her tablet again, swiping to an already open tab.

“See?” she says, tilting it so we have a better view.

“I think your parents are even joining in on the online fun, Theo.”

“My parents?” he asks, a slight hitch in his voice. His arm flexes slightly around my shoulder. “Can I see?”

“Hmm, I know I just saw that,” Jo says, scrolling down the feed aggressively with her finger. “Oh, here.” She turns the tablet back over to Theo. In all caps is a post from a Carla Fernandez, his mother, I’m gathering.

BUENA SUERTA, MIJO! Everyone wish our son and his boyfriend luck as they compete on this season of THE EPIC TREK! #THASHER. Watch here!

She included a link to the site where the first two episodes are already streaming. It’s weird to see a still of Theo and me standing together, arms crossed and looking exceptionally focused just moments before we took off on the whole sailing blunder.

“Your mom seems lovely,” I say, giving his arm a reassuring squeeze.

He doesn’t have to say anything for me to pick up on the fact that something about his mother’s comment bothers him. Instead, he lifts his gaze toward the tree line.

“How are we doing, Arthur? Camera ready?” Jo chirps, securing her tablet back in her bag and walking over to where Arthur is now bent over, still tinkering with his equipment.

“Ready when you are,” calls back Arthur, who’s now placed a large pair of headphones over his ears.

“Whenever you’re ready, Theo, just give us a quick intro and set the scene,” Jo urges as she steps behind the tripod.

Theo swallows. “Um, sure.” I glance up at him and his jaw is clenched. He looks nervous, which immediately feels odd considering this man burst into my life with confidence oozing from every pore of his being. “Um. Theo here…” he chokes out.

And then nothing.

Absolutely nothing, and as time itself stops in the most painfully awkward standstill, I can feel heat radiating off every inch of Theo’s body.

“Hold on…Let’s try that again, Theo,” Arthur says, his voice laced with a calm empathy.

Something’s wrong.

“This is just very casual and low-threat,” Jo adds rather curtly. The two of them have officially settled into their roles of Good Cop, Bad Cop, I see. “We just need to get an introduction here.”

“Casual. Got it,” Theo repeats, and he wipes his free hand on his pant leg.

“Whenever you’re ready, son,” Arthur says. I see him nudge Jo with his arm, a tone it down expression written all over his face.

Theo exhales and the drum of his fingertips resumes.

“Hi…I’m Theo Fernandez and this is Asher Bennett—my boyfriend.

” Odd that he’s introducing himself so formally, but I smile, leaning into him when he says my name.

“We just touched down in Portugal to film the next segment of the reality television show The Epic Trek . Actually, it’s kinda a funny story…

” he says, laughing rather loudly. “Our flight was delayed and we almost missed our connecting flight in London…” He’s rambling and his voice eventually trails off before he can get to whatever was funny about that story, because both Jo and Arthur are looking at him, their mouths open in disbelief at the overly detailed explanation he’s begun giving.

So, instead of providing our team with another opportunity to continue their torture, I break free from Theo’s viselike grip and step toward them.

“Jo, give me your phone,” I demand, extending my hand in her direction.

She hands it over with a look of curiosity splashed all over her face, and I march back to Theo, grabbing him by the hand. “Come on.”

No one objects.

Not even Theo, who I’m now forcefully dragging as far away from the lights and camera as I can. I lead us to the edge of the manicured property, through the thick tree line until I’ve effectively put a barrier between Jo and Arthur, and us.

It’s peaceful among the trees and the beautiful green tones of the vegetation. Spongy moss and twisted vines surround us and the melodic calls of local birds float in and out of earshot.

“Can I try something?” I ask quietly. He nods. “Pick me up then.”

Theo scrunches his eyebrows at my request. “Just trust me,” I say, bracing myself on either side of his shoulders, Jo’s phone still in hand.

And he does. Theo lifts me off the ground—with one arm, mind you—and I wrap my legs around his waist, securing myself to him. Whiffs of citrus and spice radiate off his body, and it’s not lost on me that our sudden closeness is awfully intimate, even for pretend boyfriends.

I slide Jo’s phone up to camera mode and press record, holding my arm out selfie style.

“Hi trekkers…Asher and Theo here,” I say, doing my best to sound personable and inviting, like the videos that fill my feed daily.

“We’re just getting settled in Portugal and this one over here”—I nod my head in Theo’s direction—“complained the whole way about how little leg room he had on the plane.” I tighten my grip around Theo’s neck.

“Did not,” he chimes in, nuzzling against me, but I watch as he flashes a grin for the camera.

“Mm-hmm, sure,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Anyway, we are both exhausted and starving so we are going to go find some amazing local cuisine before we succumb to jet lag. Hope you tune in!”

Short, sweet, and zero need for anyone to feel uncomfortable.

I stop recording, and the last thing the camera captures is Theo’s smiling face looking up at me.

He’s still got his head buried in the crook of my neck, and neither of us moves for what feels like an eternity.

Theo’s holding me like it’s nothing, and I can feel the strength of his upper body beneath my arms.

“You can put me down now,” I say, my voice just a whisper. I feel him nod his head in agreement, but he doesn’t move an inch.

He’s lingering.

I’m acutely aware of his firm grip around my waist, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say his hand most definitely flexed on my ass. I feel my skin flush.

Slowly, he lowers my body down his, and while I know I probably shouldn’t have, I’m not going to pretend I didn’t just allow my hands to trail themselves over his chest and stomach.

“Thanks,” I manage as my feet hit the leaf-covered ground, and I fear my throat may begin constricting.

Theo nods in acknowledgment, shoving his hands in his pockets.

A slight flash of red makes an appearance across his cheeks.

For someone who has literally jabber-jawed my ear off since the moment we met, he’s sure settled into the role of man of few words today.

“Are you…” I start, reaching out for him but suddenly unsure if I should or if saying anything is a bad idea. “Is everything okay?”