Page 5 of Winging It with You

Asher

BOS–LAX

“So, are you finally going to tell me what’s in Los Angeles?”

Shit . I still haven’t found the right time to bring up the competition.

Not as we waited to board in unbearable silence.

Not even as we awkwardly navigated around each other once we made it to our cabin—a surprise upgrade to first class after Theo had a brief, friendly conversation with the gate agent.

And not when we settled into our seats and took off.

The poor guy has no idea what he’s gotten himself into.

It was almost too easy to get this man with me onto the plane—which is probably why my palms are sweaty and every red flag in my arsenal is flying on high alert.

The coin we’d flipped bounced off the bar’s counter and skidded across the greasy restaurant linoleum between a few rolling carry-ons before settling near the host’s stand.

I thought he’d object when we both walked over and saw our fate, but instead, Theo put his hands in his pockets, shoulders raised and head cocked as if to say, Your move.

Tails.

For sure he’d backpedal on his whole anything you want, it’s yours line he so carelessly threw out there, right?

But when I told him he needed to book a flight to Los Angeles, the man didn’t flinch.

He just stepped away for a moment, cell phone in hand, as his friend—Mike?

Mark?—trailed after him, a growing mixture of concern and confusion plastered across his face.

And here he is, intently staring in my direction, waiting for my answer.

Time to rip off the Band-Aid, Bennett.

“Oh, you know…” I say, fidgeting with my seat belt. “Sunshine, million-dollar listings…” Deep breaths. “And just a silly little production crew waiting for us.”

Theo tilts his head in my direction. “What was that last one?” he asks, now leaning ever so slightly in my direction.

“The million-dollar listings? Yeah, there’s a whole reality television series about them, actually, and they’re like, super popular with the gays and…

” My voice trails off as I watch smile lines form around his amber eyes and his full lips curl up at the corners of his mouth.

A dimple makes an appearance front and center on his cheek and it transforms his profile into something far more endearing than the initial impression I had of his picture-perfect face.

“What’s this about a production crew?”

My heart is racing and I’m not sure if it’s because I’m actually an anxious flyer, or the fact that I’m about to reveal a horrifically concocted plan—which, for the record, is not at all a reflection of my normal decision-making skills—or that I keep getting whiffs of whatever spicy cologne is radiating off Theo’s larger-than-life body.

Saying that Theo Fernandez is attractive doesn’t quite cut it.

The first thing I noticed was how much space he takes up.

His features are dramatic and angular. Arms and legs long enough to swallow you whole.

I sneak a glance over at how he’s sitting in his seat.

Those thighs. But it was his soft smile and kind eyes that made me question if the dizziness I was feeling back in the restaurant was from the mimosas or him.

Neatly cropped dark, thick hair and manicured stubble accentuate his tanned skin, and while I know next to nothing about him, Theo exudes an aura of confidence that makes me shake with both excitement and unease.

“About that,” I say, wiping my hands on my pant legs. He’s following my movements, back and forth, until he finally raises his eyes to meet mine. “Don’t freak out.”

“I don’t freak out,” he says casually.

“Really? Everyone freaks out from time to time, especially under stressful cond…” He arches a brow as I begin to ramble.

I’m doing it again. “Right. So, the production crew. Well, for starters, the reason I was at the airport today is because I’ve been selected to compete on the upcoming season of The Epic Trek. ”

“The travel competition show?” he asks.

I nod.

“The one that’s competed in pairs?”

He’s onto me.

I nod slower this time, willing myself to look anywhere but his questioning gaze. Theo opens his mouth but then quickly reconsiders, leaning his head back against his seat. He may be bold at first glance, but I’m deducing he’s far more measured than he lets on.

“And considering I met you alone at the bar…” His voice trails off as he reaches up and runs a hand through his hair, cleverly constructing the puzzle that is my conundrum with little to no help from me.

As I sit quietly, debating how to proceed, I see he’s looking at me, waiting, eyebrows raised and leaning in even closer than before.

“I don’t have a partner,” I say. Well, it’s more of a whisper.

Theo looks genuinely confused. “How does that wor—”

“He dumped me,” I shoot back. “My boyfriend and I showed up today after months of planning, and he dumped me at the check-in counter.” It’s not lost on me how pathetic this entire ordeal sounds coming out of my mouth.

It’s the first time I’ve allowed myself to feel the intensity of my new reality.

I’m single for the first time in years, and I’m livid.

Clint gave up on us, on me, like it was the easiest thing in the world.

Like I meant nothing to him. We weren’t perfect, far from it…

but we had a life together, and now, it’s evident to me that none of it mattered or meant anything if it was that easy for him to just end things.

Theo’s already kind expression softens even further.

“Mierda,” he says, his sudden Spanish jogging the list of curse words I’d committed to memory in high school.

“I’m sorry.” He puts a large hand on my knee, which causes me to shift in my seat as the heat from his touch sears straight through the fabric of my pants.

“Wanna know the kicker?” I ask, doing my best to hold his stare like a functioning adult. “The whole thing was his idea.”

“No,” he says, shaking his head in disbelief. “Seriously?”

“Oh yeah.” I lean against our shared armrest, aware that Theo’s hand is still firmly planted on my leg. “It was one of those bucket-list or someday type of dreams for him, and he’d been talking about doing it for years. How could I say no to that when he finally decided to go after it?”

That just wasn’t something I did, and I think on some level, it’s not something that would have gone over well if I wanted to.

Clint Hanson was raised to believe that he was in fact God’s gift to humanity.

His parents instilled such an unshakable sense of self-confidence and worth that he fundamentally believed his approach to life was the only one worth exploring.

So, it became easier to go along with the plans he made or what he wanted to do because anything beyond that would upset the world order or throw the earth off its axis or something dramatic like that.

“Why go through with it now, then?” he asks. “If this whole thing was someone else’s idea, why are you…here?”

I think back to Clint’s words at the check-in counter. You can’t do this alone. And maybe he’s right. Maybe this will be the single greatest mistake I’ve ever made, but I don’t have anything to lose, and right now, I want nothing more than to do the exact opposite of what he’d think I’d do.

To be the exact opposite of the person he said I was.

“I just need to prove I can,” I say, without offering any further explanation. But Theo just nods, seemingly understanding that some things are better left unsaid. For now.

“So, what was your plan? Sit at that terminal bar all day and just pray you happened to stumble upon a potential partner?”

“Something like that,” I say, shrugging my shoulders.

“I just had to come along asking for those damn mozzarella sticks,” he says, his grin growing wider. “Mark is never going to let me live this one down.”

“The first of many regrets you’ll have since meeting me, I’m sure.” That came out far more self-deprecating than I intended, but this has been the day from hell, so I’ll allow it.

“I’m assuming your whole be careful what you offer spiel…

” he begins, the smile lines forming around his eyes.

“Bonus points for only being slightly ominous and murdery, by the way. Well done.” I roll my eyes at him but struggle to hide my own amusement, which appears to make his toothy grin grow wider.

“…Sorry, where was I? Ah, right. I take it your ominous warning means that you were planning on withholding the whole needing-a-partner bit until after we touched down in LA?”

He’s not wrong. “When you put it that way, it sounds far more malicious than I intended,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest. I totally was planning on telling him…

eventually. Solidifying the fact that I am a horrible, horrible human being.

“In my defense, I’m in new territory here.

I hadn’t thought through all this fully and then…

” I reach back, massaging my neck in an attempt to root out the tension knot that’s doubled in size. “There you were.”

“I see,” he says, pursing his lips. “Well, if you’re done being a tiny little lying liar who lies about your intentions with me, I just have a few questions for you, if that’s okay?”

“Of course.” I feel every ounce of blood in my body settle behind my cheeks.

Theo sits up a little in his seat, turning his body to face me fully now as he crosses one leg over the other. “How long is the competition?”

“So, I don’t have a definitive answer for you, considering it’s all elimination based?

But I was told during the application process that the entirety of the show shouldn’t be more than four-ish weeks.

” Theo nods slowly, perhaps doing some sort of mental math or planning. “I’m asking a lot, I know…”

“Four weeks. That’s…doable. And the reward?” he interrupts, resting his chin on his hand, before I can get the rest of my thought out. “The prize money. What’s our incentive here?”

I could kick myself.