Page 44 of Winging It with You

Theo must sense the sudden shift in my mood, because I can feel his wide smile against my lips. Planting a soft but lingering kiss at the corner of my mouth, he slowly drops each hand from my face, one after the other, leaving my skin tingling at the absence of his touch.

Arthur starts breaking down his camera equipment behind us.

“Asher, my boy—I didn’t think you had it in you!” he saysenthusiastically, quite the change in tone from his usual indifference. “When that huge snake—”

“You know what? I think I’ve had enough snake talk for today.” My interruption clearly kills Arthur’s excitement, so he shrugs his shoulders and turns his attention toward the rest of his gear. Theo and I make our way back to the parked van, our hands never leaving each other’s.

“I mean this in the kindest way possible, but the two of youreek,” Jo says, her face pained as she dramatically cranes her neck away from us where she stands against the van. “Like, I get it. You’ve been gallivanting around in the wilderness and exerting yourselves physically, butdear lord…the combination of smells is too much,” she says between exaggerated breaths.

“So, what I’m hearing is,” I say, stepping forward as Arthur now joins us, “someone wants a hug!”

“Asher, you know I love ya…but if you so much as lay a finger on me right now, I will make sure that you get the worst edit in the history of reality television.” She’s laughing—we all are—harder than we have since this whole thing started, and I must admit, taking my seat in the smelly van with the three of them, as different as they all are—it’s kinda nice. Jo, Arthur, and most important, Theo, whether we wanted to or not, we’ve become a little found family in the most unlikely of circumstances.

As Arthur shoots the van back into drive and we settle into the comfortable silence of four people who have now learned to justbewith one another, I bring the back of my hand to my lips, still feeling the burn of Theo’s that just might be permanently etched upon them.

I am insomuch trouble.

13

Theo

Ria Park Garden Hotel

Algarve, Portugal

Asher’s kiss kept me up all night.

Every time I found myself on the verge of sleep, my mind had other ideas, reminding me what Asher’s lips felt like and sending a jolt of electricity straight down my spine. I also kept secretly hoping he’d climb on top of me, taking me in as each torturous hour passed, but that would most definitely violate our silly little rules. Instead I tossed and turned all night, wildly horny. So, after thoroughly giving up on sleep, I snuck out of bed, quietly threw on a pair of running shorts, and tiptoed to the door, shoes in hand.

Asher’s back is to me as I close the door, his hair wild and his long leg sticking out from beneath the comforter. As much as I’d love to burrow back into bed with him, I need to clear my head.

And if I’m being honest, to just have a moment away from Asher and Jo and the cameras.

We didn’t say too much last night after the kiss.

Arthur had convinced us to join him and some of the other crew members and contestants for dinner. After a few too many beers and cheese arepas (and some horrific-tasting rum concoction), upon returning to the hotel, Asher and I were finally able to break away. We literally passed out from exhaustion.

“Well, look who’s up before the sun,” Jenn’s familiar voice calls the second I step out of the elevator. She’s sitting with some sort of notebook in her lap, dressed both stylishly and comfortably in a white tank top and pair of flowy linen drawstring pants.

“Morning,” I say after crossing the tiled lobby to join her. “I was just going to get some air before it got too hot out.”

“Perfect…I’ll join you,” she says, closing her book and inviting herself. Before I can find some way to politely decline or stress the fact that I was just looking for a little alone time, she’s gotten up from her seat, leading the way out the front door and into the cool morning breeze.

I have no choice but to follow her.

Jenn loops her arm through mine when I flank her outside, and the two of us wind our way through the quiet city. She doesn’t say anything at first, her head on a constant swivel as she takes in the local scenery. I think I’m starting to understand that she’s a genuinely curious person. Someone who looks at the world with wonder. Like she’s trying to memorize every detail around her. Every so often, her pace slows, mine along with it, and she unhooks herself from me. Opening the notebook she’s had tucked into her side, Jenn scribbles something down before relocking our arms and setting off again.

Curiosity gets the best of me after our fourth stop. “What are you jotting down over there?”

A warm smile spreads across her face. “Oh, I just have my little lists,” she says, opening her notebook so I can see inside. The pages are filled with columns of notes. In some instances, there’s just a word or two. In others, a full sentence. “Food we’ve tried. People we’ve met. Things I need to remember,” she says, trailing her finger across the neat script. “All of it. I don’t want to forget anything from this trip, so it’s all in here.”

That’s adorable and entirely in line with the image slowly forming of Jenn in my head. In a lot of ways, she reminds me of my own mother, and there’s a small part of me that thinks she feels that.

“Are you at all curious to know what I wrote back at the hotel?” she asks, tapping her index finger toward the middle of the left page.

Check on Theo.

My heart constricts at the thought of being checked on, a dull ache laced with a longing I think I tricked myself into believing wasn’t there. When we look at each other, I fail to find the right words.

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