Page 26 of Winging It with You

But Theo leans into my touch and every uncertain thought melts away in an instant.

“I’m alright,” he says quietly, a slight rasp to his voice.

I search his eyes for anything that indicates the contrary, and I think he must see the concern I’m feeling.

“I promise, Ash,” he says, adding a slow-spreading smile to really seal the deal.

We walk in silence back to our original spot where Jo and Arthur are waiting, curiosity painted on each of their faces.

“Here,” I say, handing Jo’s phone back to her. “Will this work?” They replay the video.

“Oh, yeah,” she says, a smug smile spreading across her face. “That’ll work, alright.”

“Good. Anything else?” I want to wrap this up so we can get some food and escape into our room. They shake their heads simultaneously.

“Can we help with any of this?” Theo asks, a hint of frustrated embarrassment woven in his words.

“No, you boys go on and get some rest,” Arthur says, already folding down the tripod and placing it in its carrier.

There’s something fatherly in the way he addresses us, and under normal circumstances, from anyone else, that would rub me entirely the wrong way.

But I suspect that’s just who Arthur is.

A stoic and kind man who shows he cares by handling the little things.

I turn to head back to the hotel, room key in hand, and Theo falls in step next to me.

Taking in his sharp profile, I would never assume he’d be someone who needs protecting in any capacity, but perhaps there’s far more to the boisterous and overzealous man I’ve tricked into being my boyfriend than meets the eye.

The elevator seems to be stuck when we cross the lobby, so we silently agree to take the stairs. We’re only on the fourth floor, anyway. Theo pauses once we are alone in the stairwell and quietly takes my hand to prevent me from climbing any farther.

“She’s never used the word boyfriend before,” he says out of nowhere. “Neither of us have. So, seeing it written like that, online of all places, just…threw me off for a moment.” His mother’s post seemed supportive enough, though.

Happy and excited, even.

I turn to face him, fully ready to dive headfirst into family trauma and questions about his coming-out experience and a poorly timed jab about his mommy issues, but something in Theo’s expression stops me.

His brow is furrowed, like he’s weighing his next move, and it hits me all at once that he may not know he can talk to me.

If that’s even something he wants.

“You know I’m here, right?” I say nervously, deciding now is as good a time as any to let the man I’m supposed to be dating know I’m someone he can count on.

He’s been that person for me far too many times to count already, and the last thing I’d want is for him to feel like he is alone in whatever it is he’s so clearly thinking. “For you.”

“I know,” he says, but the expression on his face says otherwise.

“Seriously, Theo,” I say, taking an intentional step forward, realizing now that it matters whether he trusts me. “Whatever it is…you can talk to me.” I place what I hope is a reassuring hand on his forearm, and when I do, Theo’s expression softens.

“I appreciate it,” he says quietly, putting a hand on top of mine. The warmth from his touch makes it difficult to swallow. “It’s just…This whole thing with my family feels like it should be incredibly black-and-white, you know? And instead, it just feels…”

“Complicated?” I offer, and my interruption elicits a welcome smile from this serious version of Theo.

“Yes, guapo, complicated ,” he repeats, but I’m too fixated on how his lips move when he calls me handsome to pay attention. “I guess I just don’t know how we got here.”

He runs his thumb in circles over the back of my hand—intentionally or absentmindedly, I’m not sure. Either way, it’s a welcome distraction. “And by here you mean…” I prod, hoping to get on the same page as him.

“I don’t know,” he says, that furrowed brow returning. “Distant? Just not as close as we used to be. It’s like from one second to the next, we all started walking on eggshells around one another.”

There’s genuine longing in his voice, and while a huge part of me wants to pull him into a tight hug or even change the subject to something lighter, the other part knows Theo probably has needed to talk about this for quite some time.

“So, this has something to do with your sexuality?” I ask, noting that this all seems to have stemmed from his mother’s use of the word boyfriend online. I really hope that’s not the case.

“Yes and no. We never talked about it. Growing up where I did, there wasn’t anyone my age who was out or for me to date, so, I don’t know…it never once occurred to me I needed to change anything.”

“But then there was?” I ask, sensing a shift in this story’s direction.

He looks up, his eyes finding mine. “I guess you could say I met someone who put a lot of things in my life into perspective.” Theo leans his big shoulder against the wall and I instinctively follow suit.

“And then it ended.” There doesn’t seem to be any harbored hostility lingering in his tone.

Just a mature and neutral it was what it was mentality.

“And your family?” I ask, now curious how they fit into all this. “How were they involved?”

Theo laughs to himself, some personal memory probably replaying behind those golden eyes of his.

“Oh, they were plenty involved. At the end of the day, I think the whole thing just became something none of us wanted to bring up. So we didn’t, and I think we all got pretty good at pretending…

” he says, his voice trailing off quietly as he drops his gaze to our hands.

“I guess you could say we found some uncomfortably comfortable middle ground.”

My heart lodges forcefully in my throat as I take in what might just be the real Theo for the first time. Someone who’s been pretending for his family. Someone who might be tired of it.

And here I am asking him to carry out yet another charade by being my pretend boyfriend.

“Is this…is being here making it worse?” I ask, nervous I might already know the answer.

Theo shifts his weight to his back leg. “I wouldn’t say it’s making it worse,” he says quickly, though the tone in his voice is unreadable. “But I’m not going to lie, it’s a little disorienting trying to keep up with what’s real and what’s…for the show, you know?”

Oh, do I ever.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” I ask. I’ve been so concerned with pulling off the whole fake boyfriends bit and how Theo’s presence might help me that I haven’t really stopped to consider what he needs out of this.

“You’re doing it.”

“That seems”—I start, but then we lock eyes and for a fraction of a breath, I think he might kiss me—“unlikely.” My voice gets trapped in my throat as I watch his eyes drop to my lips, and I could swear he inched forward ever so slightly.

But he doesn’t move in for the kiss I’m practically begging for, and the hint of disappointment pooling in my stomach surprises me.

Instead he just smiles, and it does something funny to my insides.

There’s no denying my attraction to Theo.

From the second I laid eyes on him, I knew that, conventionally, he was gorgeous.

But on days like today, when he’s peeling back those layers and showing me who he really is, I’m left considering how to make a voluntary amendment to our no sex rule I’m now kicking myself for instituting.

“I’m serious. You’ve gotten quite good at this whole boyfriend thing,” he says, winking at me as he pivots our conversation entirely and slings an unexpected arm over my shoulder. His voice is noticeably lighter.

Boyfriend.

That word rolling off his tongue sounds different. Fuller and more…complicated. Now more than ever, I’m understanding the razor-thin line between real and reality television Theo was just talking about.

“You’re hilarious,” I say, trying to ignore the fact that Theo’s now pulled me in flush against his body and is leading us up the stairs.

I prod him with my elbow so he doesn’t start thinking I like it too much.

Because I am starting to like it too much.