Page 18 of Winging It with You

“I have an older sister, Elise. She and her husband, Stefan, have been together for what feels like forever, so I’ve always considered him to be like a brother too. Elise just opened her own pediatric clinic in our hometown and Stefan is a chef. Their schedules couldn’t be more opposite, but they make it work for their kids.” I can’t help but smile when my niece’s and nephew’s faces pop up in my mind. “I’m rambling, I’m sorry!”

Asher just smiles, jotting down another note,Guncle, and underlining it. “And your parents? What do they do?”

I haven’t been this intensely interrogated in a while. “My mom’s a schoolteacher and my dad is a carpenter.”

The familiar smell of sawdust and pine floats to the surface of my memory, sending a wave of nostalgia straight to my core. Summers and weekends spent side by side with my father in his woodshed as he crafted pieces of furniture from nothing, conveying each step of the process as he went.

My mother would bring us horchata when the weather was nice and then take her usual spot reading or knitting on the dock my father built.

“And how are they going to feel about you gallivanting around the world with someboyfriendthey’ve never met? Won’t they be confused?”

“Oh, I don’t see it being a problem.”

Which isn’t a lie. It’s playing by the unspoken rules my family has seemingly agreed to.

Don’t talk about it. Don’t shake things up. Be the old Theo they all know and love.

He quietly raises an eyebrow at the ambiguity I know is lingering behind my words.

“Seriously, my parents aren’t the ask-about-your-boyfriend type,” I say when I can’t bear the silence any longer. “They don’t ask about my love life and I don’t volunteer the information.” Not that there’s anything to discuss anyway. “It works just fine for everyone.”

Asher is a perceptive man, or at least I believe him to be, because he changes the subject without a second thought. “What musician would people be surprised to learn you have downloaded on your phone?”

“Too easy,” I say, relieved to be wading back into shallower waters. “Ashley Tisdale.”

He cocks his head at the immediacy of my response.

“Okay, wait,” he says, leaning forward. “Are we talkingHigh School MusicalAshley Tisdale? Or…”

“All of it,” I say, unlocking my phone and opening my music library before passing it over to Asher. “The Tis must be protected at all costs.”

I watch with zero shame as he scrolls through my extensive collection of certified bops. I like what I like.

“Alright then, someone’sclearlya fan,” he teases, handing my phone back to me.

“What can I say, I’m a man of exceptional taste.”

“I can see that,” he says, chewing on his bottom lip. “Moving on from Disney starlets, if that’s okay with you?

“I’ll allow it.”

Asher shakes his head. “When you were growing up, did you have to have your bedroom door open or closed?”

“I’m sorry,” I say, raising an eyebrow. “Was something supposed to have changed between growing up and now? Because every single door must be properly examined before bed and shut completely. Come on, Asher…I’m not a psychopath.”

Another Asher eye roll. He begins trailing a finger down his never-ending list of questions, but I think it’s my turn to pull out a few of his closet’s skeletons. “That’ll be enough of that,” I say, swiping the notebook from his grip and tucking it under my arm. “I have a few questions of my own. Let’s start with the basics—when’s your birthday?”

“May eighth.”

Ah, a Taurus. That tracks.

“Excuse me. What’s the face for?” he asks, pushing my arm playfully.

“Just piecing you together, Asher Bennett,” I say, and his nose scrunches up. I’m pretty sure he hated that entirely. “Okay, how about what you do for work?”

He folds his arms across his chest. “I’m a biomedical engineer.”

“A what now?”

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