Page 47 of Winging It with You

She must decide that my appearance is as good as it’s going to get, because she gives up trying to get the edge of my sleeve to lay flat and instead grabs her tablet again, swiping to an already open tab. “See?” she says, tilting it so we have a better view. “I think your parents are even joining in on the online fun, Theo.”

“My parents?” he asks, a slight hitch in his voice. His arm flexes slightly around my shoulder. “Can I see?”

“Hmm, I know I just saw that,” Jo says, scrolling down the feed aggressively with her finger. “Oh, here.” She turns the tablet back over to Theo. In all caps is a post from a Carla Fernandez, his mother, I’m gathering.

BUENA SUERTA, MIJO! Everyone wish our son and his boyfriend luck as they compete on this season of THE EPIC TREK! #THASHER. Watch here!

She included a link to the site where the first two episodes are already streaming. It’s weird to see a still of Theo and me standing together, arms crossed and looking exceptionally focused just moments before we took off on the whole sailing blunder.

“Your mom seems lovely,” I say, giving his arm a reassuring squeeze.

He doesn’t have to say anything for me to pick up on thefact that something about his mother’s comment bothers him. Instead, he lifts his gaze toward the tree line.

“How are we doing, Arthur? Camera ready?” Jo chirps, securing her tablet back in her bag and walking over to where Arthur is now bent over, still tinkering with his equipment.

“Ready when you are,” calls back Arthur, who’s now placed a large pair of headphones over his ears.

“Whenever you’re ready, Theo, just give us a quick intro and set the scene,” Jo urges as she steps behind the tripod.

Theo swallows. “Um, sure.” I glance up at him and his jaw is clenched. He looks nervous, which immediately feels odd considering this man burst into my life with confidence oozing from every pore of his being. “Um. Theo here…” he chokes out.

And then nothing.

Absolutely nothing, and as time itself stops in the most painfully awkward standstill, I can feel heat radiating off every inch of Theo’s body.

“Hold on…Let’s try that again, Theo,” Arthur says, his voice laced with a calm empathy.

Something’s wrong.

“This is just very casual and low-threat,” Jo adds rather curtly. The two of them have officially settled into their roles of Good Cop, Bad Cop, I see. “We just need to get an introduction here.”

“Casual. Got it,” Theo repeats, and he wipes his free hand on his pant leg.

“Whenever you’re ready, son,” Arthur says. I see him nudge Jo with his arm, atone it downexpression written all over his face.

Theo exhales and the drum of his fingertips resumes. “Hi…I’m Theo Fernandez and this is Asher Bennett—my boyfriend.” Odd that he’s introducing himself so formally, but I smile, leaning into him when he says my name. “We just touched down in Portugal to film the next segment of the reality television showThe Epic Trek. Actually, it’s kinda a funny story…” he says, laughing rather loudly. “Our flight was delayed and we almost missed our connecting flight in London…” He’s rambling and his voice eventually trails off before he can get to whatever was funny about that story, because both Jo and Arthur are looking at him, their mouths open in disbelief at the overly detailed explanation he’s begun giving.

So, instead of providing our team with another opportunity to continue their torture, I break free from Theo’s viselike grip and step toward them.

“Jo, give me your phone,” I demand, extending my hand in her direction.

She hands it over with a look of curiosity splashed all over her face, and I march back to Theo, grabbing him by the hand. “Come on.”

No one objects.

Not even Theo, who I’m now forcefully dragging as far away from the lights and camera as I can. I lead us to the edge of the manicured property, through the thick tree line until I’ve effectively put a barrier between Jo and Arthur, and us.

It’s peaceful among the trees and the beautiful green tones of the vegetation. Spongy moss and twisted vines surround us and the melodic calls of local birds float in and out of earshot.

“Can I try something?” I ask quietly. He nods. “Pick me up then.”

Theo scrunches his eyebrows at my request. “Just trust me,” I say, bracing myself on either side of his shoulders, Jo’s phone still in hand.

And he does. Theo lifts me off the ground—with one arm, mind you—and I wrap my legs around his waist, securing myself to him. Whiffs of citrus and spice radiate off his body, and it’s not lost on me that our sudden closeness is awfully intimate, even for pretend boyfriends.

I slide Jo’s phone up to camera mode and press record, holding my arm out selfie style.

“Hi trekkers…Asher and Theo here,” I say, doing my best to sound personable and inviting, like the videos that fill my feed daily. “We’re just getting settled in Portugal andthis oneover here”—I nod my head in Theo’s direction—“complained the whole way about how little leg room he had on the plane.” I tighten my grip around Theo’s neck.

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