Page 27 of Winging It with You

“And how might I be looking at you, Ash?” I tease, knowing full well how I’m looking at him. Like I’d watched him comeundone right in front of me last night and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to do it again.

“Like someone who hasn’t met a rule he didn’t take as a personal challenge,” he says, nudging me firmly with his elbow. “It’s like there’s always somethingelsebehind those eyes of yours.” Which is rich, because he’s the one staring at me from behind two deep emerald pools I could easily and willingly drown in. The thought surprises me, but then again, so has Asher.

“Have you considered that this just very well might be my face?”

Despite his need for so-called rules, Asher seems lighter.

Still as tightly wound as ever but, I don’t know, more playful?

Slightly less guarded?

He shakes his head. “No, sir.”

I swallow hard. Okay, thathasto be intentional. “Sir, huh? It’s like you’re trying to tease me now.”

“Oh, don’t start,” he says, shaking his head again at my ridiculousness, but even though Asher needs rules and is fresh off a breakup…after last night? I think we’re just starting to scratch the surface of his flirtatious charm.

“You know I prefer to be calledsir,” I say, quickly correcting him. “Keep up, Bennett.”

He rolls his eyes. “Rules. Let’s focus on the rules.”

“Ah, yes.Those.” I scrunch my face like I’ve just eaten something sour. “Let’s see…” I tap my pen to my lips. “We’ve got no sex—which, let’s be honest, is a rather bleak way to kick off this whole rule thing.” He ignores my side-eye. “And no feelings—again, good luck with that, babe.” Asher looks like he could kill me. “What else?”

He wraps up the second half of his sandwich, quickly tucking it away in the front pocket of his bag. “Let’s just make a pact to be honest,” he says after a moment. “I know we’re lying practically every second Arthur’s camera is on us…but let’s not lie to each other.”

His voice is sad, and I could be reading too much into things, but maybe it’s possible that all this—the breakup, the competition, even me—is weighing too heavily on him. I don’t know what it is about this man that sends my protective instincts into overdrive. From the little I’ve been able to piece together about Asher, it’s not hard to tell he’s experiencing one hell of an emotional whiplash. I wish I could peel back his guarded layers and really get a sense of who this man is. People have always been easy for me. To charm. To understand.

To sleep with, if I’m being completely honest.

But there’s something I can’t quite pinpoint about Asher Bennett. One minute he seems so nervous to be around me he might pass out, cheeks red, all limbs, and the next, he’s cold and unreadable without a single warning. Then there are moments in between where he seems less extreme. Soft, content moments where there’s a warmth burning just beneath the surface.

That’sthe man I’m determined to know.

“No sex. No feelings. No lies,” I say, recanting our list of rules. “Too easy.”

Asher fidgets with his bag strap, something I’ve noticed he does in the lulls of conversation. “I also think we need a safe word,” he whispers.

“A safe word? Explain…”

“I know myself, or at least I used to,” he says. “I’m going to need a word or a phrase I can say when this whole charade feelstoo big and too complicated. I don’t want to get confused or say or do the wrong thing, so it would help if we had something that would ground us back in reality. Is that dumb?”

“It’s definitely not dumb.” I hope he believes me. “I think I understand. You need something to hold on to. Something real. That’s not dumb at all.”

He stares at me with something that looks like relief.

“My friend Mark,” I continue. “You know, the guy I was trying to steal your mozzarella sticks for?” He nods. “We joke and troll each other all the time, so he and I have this thing that when we want to talk about something serious, we say a phrase I introduced him to from my time in the Navy—Whiskey, Tango, Foxtrot.”

He blinks. “You say what now?”

His momentary confusion is adorable. “Whiskey, Tango, Foxtrot—the phonetic alphabet for WTF, or what the fu—”

“Oh,” he interjects. “Of course! That’s…cute. But why?”

“Honestly? I can’t remember how it started, but it’s become our version of a ‘friend check’ and we’ve been using it ever since. The moment either of us says it, the other knows it’s about to get real. We could use that if you’d like?”

“We can’t useyourthing with your friend. That’s supposed to be special.”

I shake my head. “The entire US military uses that expression; I think we’re fine.”

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