Page 55 of Winging It with You

And somehow, amid the televised conundrums, Theo and I appeared to reach some semblance of an understanding.

Of the competition and each other.

Each stop along the way brings us closer. In the darkness of yet another hotel room or cramped against each other on another endless flight, I feel we’ve both quietly envisioned just what this could be.

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“Wake up.” Theo’s voice isbut a whisper in my ear.

I don’t remember when I finally fell asleep, but I needed every second of it. My body is stiff and I’m fairly positive I’m going to have permanent fabric lines from Theo’s pullover etched into my face.

“Ash, come on. You have to see this,” he says, nudging me with his thigh.

I nuzzle into his neck in silent protest.

“Please,” he breathes, his lips lingering on my skin. Okay, now I’m awake.

“I’m up, I’m up,” I groan, pretending that seeing his signature grin when I finally force my eyes open didn’t just completely punch me straight in the gut.

He shakes his head at my theatrics but turns toward our window and slides its shade up, leaning back so I have an unobstructed view.

“Theo, it’s…” My voice trails off because I quickly realize I don’t have the words to describe the picturesque beauty before me.

We are weaving in and out of a sea of endless clouds. Miles and miles of velvet softness painted in the amber morning light surround us. Their subtle shifts in the wind allow sun streams to make a divine but fleeting appearance.

It’s like we’ve woken up within a painting. Our very own billowing fresco stretching from every corner of the horizon.

“Every time I step into a cockpit,thisis the moment I look for,” he says, and my heart melts at the fact that he wanted to share it with me. “My mom shared a quote from Leonardo da Vinci, or one of those interchangeable old guys everyone is always quoting, with me when I was younger. Back when I wouldn’t stop talking about being a pilot and always had my head in the clouds…Once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been, and there you will always long to return.” He reaches over and takes my hand in his. “Or something like that.”

I’m speechless. At the beauty we’ve found ourselves amid. At the borrowed words that clearly mean something to him.

At this man who feels more and more like the rays of sunshine peering through the clouds surrounding us every time he opens his mouth.

“So, you always wanted to be a pilot, then?” I ask when I finally find my voice again. I trail my fingertips over his knuckles as Theo leans in to me, his head now resting on mine.

“I did. My family used to go to the air show that would come to town every summer. They are some of my earliest memories,” he says, his voice growing quieter. Most of our conversations have been centered around the competition or one of us complaining how tired we are, so it feels like a treat getting little glimpses into Theo’s real life.

“I loved everything about it. The thunderous noise the jets made as they flew overhead, their impossible maneuvers, the way everyone would sprint to meet the pilots as soon as they landed—I was hooked.”

Picturing a young and enamored Theo causes my heart to constrict. “And the Navy? Was that always part of the pilot plan too?”

“Not at all. That chapter of my life was definitely unexpected.” I feel him shake his head against mine. “No, when I was younger and pictured my future life as a pilot, I was convinced I’d be flying NASA shuttles into space by the time I was sixteen.”

“I see you’ve always been realistic.”

“Obviously,” he murmurs, struggling to choke back his laugh.

Somewhere in the golden mesh of clouds, it’s the last sound I hear before drifting back to sleep.

17

Asher

Hotel Piazza di Spagna—Room 308

Rome, Italy

“Do you want to get out of here?”

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