Page 54 of Winging It with You

“And when you just stood there, it was clear as day that this ,” he says, waving his arms between us, “isn’t real for you like it is for me.

” His shoulders slump, and his eyes are pooling with tears.

“And maybe that’s okay. Maybe months down the line, I’ll be able to see all this—you, me, the show—for what it was.

A nice little chapter in our lives. You and I don’t get the happy ending, and I’ll just forever be remembered as that stranger you met in the airport bar. ”

Panic floods my system. “I hope that’s not how you really feel.”

“That’s the thing, Ash,” he says, his voice flatlining.

“I don’t know how to feel. Not anymore. For as long as I can remember, I’ve tried to not feel.

To not get too close, so I don’t get hurt again.

But somewhere between mozzarella sticks and here, something changed.

You made me feel. You reminded me how beautiful it is to be seen by someone and to see them for who they really are.

You reached for my hand each night and pulled me close and made me feel safe and whole again. Like I was depended on and needed.”

“You are all of those things,” I yell, praying he believes me.

“You did all that and it is really unfair and shitty if you didn’t mean it.

” The tears are really falling now. “What about what I want? Because I played the role and did everything you asked and despite you reminding me this wasn’t real, I still fell in lo—” He stops himself, choking back the words I’ve been waiting all this time to hear him say. But not like this.

Don’t say those three life-changing words.

Not filled with this much frustration.

“I’m here . I’m here and of course I meant all those things,” I say, taking a small step toward him.

My voice cracks just like my heart has. I take in Theo, standing at the edge of the dock, his arms crossed and eyes wide and red.

I need him to realize there was never a choice to make.

I had already decided what I didn’t want for my life the moment I left Clint standing alone at the airport.

And I decided what I did want while sitting with him somewhere over the Atlantic.

And the journey to that decision—everything with him and us and how he’s made me feel—was worth it.

He was more than worth it.

“Being here with you,” I say, taking another step into the warmth I’d missed so much.

“Theo…there’s nowhere else in this whole world I’d rather be.

When Clint showed up, I think I hesitated because from one moment to the next, I was suffocated by years’ worth of anger that all came rushing to the surface.

Years’ worth of biting my tongue and always trying to say and do the right thing.

I think my brain and my body just shut down because of all the things I wanted to say to him…

all the horrible ways he’s made me feel these past years…

and that all I could think about was you. ”

He lifts his gaze to mine.

“You are the exact opposite of him, Theo. And what we have is so special and so uniquely ours and from the bottom of my heart, baby—I am so sorry that my hesitation or my moment of internal panic led you to believe otherwise.”

Theo drops his arms, either in exhausted surrender or wary acceptance. Or maybe on some small level, he acknowledges the sincerity that I’ve been praying is coming across.

“Because when push comes to shove,” I say, taking another calculated step forward, “the person I want in my life is the person who makes me feel most like myself. The real and flawed and anxious version of me that probably comes with a lot of baggage and whole lot of questions. That’s you, Theo.

I’ve spent every single second since you came into my life overanalyzing every moment of every interaction, trying to understand what it is about you that makes me feel the way that I do.

” Another step forward. “It’s the kindness in your heart.

The genuine warmth of your beautiful smile.

The way you treat everyone around you like they’re the most special person in the damn room. ”

Another step. “So yes, I hesitated, but in that moment, I think there was a part of me that was scared of just how immensely you’ve changed my life. Of how much I need you.”

“Asher, I meant it when I told you I don’t want to pretend anymore. I can’t,” he says, taking his own step toward me, a small one, but a step in the right direction nonetheless. All I want to do is launch myself at him.

“And I meant it when I said let’s not,” I say, matching his movement, which causes the wooden dock to creak beneath my foot.

“Asher, I can’t,” he whispers. My fingers flex at my sides, itching to touch him. He’s close enough now that I could just reach out if I thought he wanted me to.

“You never have to again.” His amber eyes pour into mine—eyes I know in my soul I could get lost in for the rest of my life—and every nerve ending screams for him to hold me in his arms.

And he does.

Theo reaches forward, slowly at first and then like his life depends on it. He pulls me flat against his chest. I wrap my arms around his waist, finally inhaling the most comforting scent of him after all this unnecessary time apart.

Neither of us has to say anything else.

If traveling the world together has taught me anything, it’s that the feeling of home doesn’t always have to be a place.

Melting into Theo, I know without any reservation or nagging uncertainty that if you’re lucky, home can be a person.

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

After what felt like the deepest sleep of my life, I sneak out of Theo’s childhood bedroom, careful not to wake him, to brush my teeth and smooth out my bedhead.

A futile attempt, considering the faux-hawk that seems permanently affixed to my head at this point when I glance in the small bathroom mirror before tiptoeing back to the bedroom.

Our reunion last night went differently than I expected. A little cooler than I had hoped, but we got there eventually. We then quietly got ready for the night, sleeping in his full-size bed, and even though we slept strictly side by side, just being in the same space as Theo felt like a dream.

I finally felt hopeful again.

Theo stirs, his eyes slowly opening as he turns in my direction. I want to kiss every inch of his handsome face. But instead, I roll on my side to face him.

I use the silence between us to memorize the freckles that have grown more prominent on the bridge of his nose and along his cheeks. There’s so much I want to make sure he knows. And so many things I promised myself I’d tell him if given the opportunity.

“Hi” is all I can muster.

He blinks a few times, his eyelids heavy and reluctant, and he nuzzles deeper into his pillow. “Hi back.”

“I’ve missed you,” I blurt out at the same time he asks, “How’d you sleep?”

We both laugh, now cocooned together in the cozy bedding, the glow of the early-morning light coming in through the small window above us. Theo reaches over to pull me closer to him.

“I bet I missed you more,” he says, placing a gentle kiss square on my forehead.

“Don’t move,” he mumbles against my skin.

I wouldn’t dream of it. He quickly hops out of bed, so I crane my neck before he gets too far down the hall to the bathroom for a nice view of Theo in nothing but a pair of black trunks.

His wide, muscular back is on full display.

The house is quiet, peaceful. Theo’s family was incredibly welcoming last night, calming every nerve I had about barreling my way into town and forcing myself on them.

His room is somehow exactly as I pictured it.

Neat and orderly yet still filled with moments of another life lived.

There’s a row of Hardy Boys books centered on a wooden bookshelf, a small corkboard across the room that holds a string of Polaroid pictures, and a simple metallic desk lamp on the nightstand.

I pick up the framed photo next to it, revealing a much younger Theo and a group of people who I’m assuming are his high school friends.

I see he’s had that same signature grin in every phase of his life.

“I’m surprised you’re not rummaging through my drawers, Bennett,” Theo teases from the doorway, looking even more delicious than when he left. His sudden reappearance makes me jump in the bed.

“That was one time,” I say, returning the frame back to its place. “And sneaking a peek into one’s open toiletry bag in a shared bathroom is hardly the same as snooping through their childhood belongings.”

“Mm-hmm, sure it is,” he says with a wink. Theo closes the space between his now-shut door and the bed and rips back the warm covers, sliding in next to me. “Hi again,” he says, lying on his side to face me, a smile brewing beneath his dark stubble.

Instead of letting me respond, Theo crashes his lips into mine.

I melt against his touch, wrapping my arms around his neck and looping my fingers into his wild hair, and pull him even closer to me.

There’s an urgency to the way he’s kissing me.

Like he has been a man starved and my lips are the only things keeping him going.

He rolls me onto my back and presses the full weight of his broad body against mine. My legs naturally wrap around his waist, an invitation to make me his whenever and however he wants.

I hate how much time we wasted in those hotel rooms not doing this every chance we got.

“Mmm, baby, I’ve missed you,” I groan against his lips, feeling his smile against mine.

“I don’t think you realize how badly I missed you.

” I run my hands down his muscular back as his hungry lips claim mine again, my fingers continuing to trail along his side.

I marvel at how hot his skin is beneath my touch.

He presses his forehead to mine when I reach between us, cupping him in both hands and giving his now-throbbing cock a squeeze.

“I’ve fucking missed this. ”

“It’s yours,” he whispers, his voice hoarse against my ear. Planting kisses along my neck and on each cheek, he repeats the words my heart has been longing to hear over and over again. “It’s yours…It’s yours…I’m yours.”

He’s mine.

My head is swirling at his admission. Theo Fernandez is mine.

Right now, the only thing I care about—the only thing my heart and body and mind are capable of focusing on—is the way Theo’s kissing me. Like he’s trying to make up for lost time. Like his hands need to relearn every inch of my body.

Like finally, I’m his.