Page 56 of Winging It with You

Theo’s been pacing our hotel room for the last fifteen or so minutes. I lost track after he crossed my claimed spot in our room’s armchair for the ninety-second—no, wait…ninety-third time.

“Out of here?” I ask. “Where to?” We touched down in Italy in a sleep-deprived haze but were elated when Jo told us we had the rest of the afternoon to ourselves before filming resumed tomorrow. I heard Ellie and Jenn excitedly talking about all the gelato they were going to try and how throwing a euro into the Trevi Fountain for luck is an absolute must as the cast and crew excitedly dispersed in the hotel lobby.

Not me.

Nope, I plan to sit my happy ass in the comfort of this hotel room, take a long shower where I don’t care about using all the hot water, and not move an inch. I am exhausted. Scratch that.I’m whatever word is the word beyond exhausted. Something that would describe how every muscle in my body is feeling. Theo and I have been running on fumes. Literally dragging our feet from one airport to another, agonizingly loading the bags into the van with Arthur and having to deal with the migraine that is Bianca and Jackson’s incessant snark every time the cameras start rolling.

No, thank you. I’m perfectly fine staying right here.

“Anywhere. I think I’ll lose it if I have to spend another minute in a hotel, Ash.” I fight a hoard of demonic butterflies every time he calls me that, but something is clearly off with him. Theo leans against the dresser, his brow furrowed. He’s been noticeably quiet most of the afternoon, but I chalked it up to him being as drained as I am.

I close my book, setting it down on the small side table. “Lead the way,” I say, knowing I’d do just about anything for this man.

His brow is cocked, and the smirk I’ve come to both roll my eyes at and live to see spreads from the corner of his mouth. “I thought you’d put up more of a fight.”

“First of all,” I say, “get to know me. I’m full of surprises. And second of all, what kind of maniac would I be if I said no after all your pouting?”

Theo snorts. “My pouting?”

“Your pouting.” I get up from the comfort of my chair and cross the room toward him. “Ever since we touched down today, your shoulders have been slumped, your usual golden retrieverness is all but depleted. Icannotbe counted on to be the sunshiny one in this pairing, Theo Fernandez, so either snap out of it or tell me what’s going on up there.” I give the side ofhis head a playful tap with my fingers, his smirk spreading even wider across his face.

He opens his mouth but decides against whatever it was he was going to say. “I…I’m probably just tired.” His lie isn’t as convincing as I’m sure he believes it is, but Theo just leans forward, closing what little distance remains between us, and I momentarily forget how to breathe. “Has anyone ever told you your eyes have flecks of amber in them?” he asks, his warm breath washing over me, threatening to swallow me whole.

“Uh, what?” I stammer out, disarmed by our sudden closeness.

“Right here.” Theo places a soft hand on the side of my face, and the heat from his touch seeps straight into my veins. His thumb brushes gently under my eye and if he’s pointing at something, I’m unable to focus on anything other than his now-parted lips, which are only a whisper away from mine. I could just lean in—

“Shall we?” he asks, his hand dropping to his side. My skin instantly longs for his touch again. I don’t know whether it’s disappointment or desperation or some horny combination of the two, but whatever it is, I’m definitely the one pouting now.

I do my best to plaster on a smile, the one reserved for moments of forced fun and things well outside my comfort zone. “Sure, let’s do it.”

Theo turns to head for the door but reaches for my hand before he gets too far. I don’t know exactly when this whole hand-holding business started when the cameras weren’t rolling, but I’ve stopped questioning it. For once, I’m doing my best not to spiral in a fit of mental gymnastics and just do what feelsnatural, because this? I look down at his hand, our fingers now intertwined. This feels right.

If I can’t lose myself in his kiss, the deliberate back and forth of his thumb over my knuckles as we head down toward the lobby in the cramped elevator is a consolation prize to smile about.

The lobby feels alive when we make our way out of the ancient elevator.

I’ve been to Italy once before. My grandparents took me on a surprise tour across the country when I became obsessed with Pompeii in school. We went from city to city, learning about the rich history and beautiful culture. At every stop, I remember thinking how everything felt like it was buzzing. Even at my young age, I could tell that the Italians lived differently, throwing their whole hearts into every day, every meal, and every conversation they had. I was in awe.

It’s no different today—people are shuffling in and out of the grand hotel door, their bags packed and their eyes wide with excitement.

Some familiar faces come into view as the crowd parts. Jo and Arthur are sitting across from Ellie and Jenn at the cramped hotel bar, a round of half-enjoyed cocktails between them.

“And where are you two off to?” Arthur asks, his gruff voice reaching us over the hum of the crowd as we approach.

Jo looks down at our hands, which are still intertwined. She takes a small sip from her crystal tumbler and struggles to stifle a grin.

“Just need to get out. Maybe someplace the locals would go to?” Theo says, jamming his free hand in his pants pocket.

Arthur downs the rest of his drink, nodding as he gets up from his seat. “Come on, I know a place.”

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There’s nothing like a groupof tightly wound, sleep-deprived American tourists trying to blend in with Italian regulars.

We follow Arthur down the winding cobblestone streets, each of us with our phone, which production so kindly passed back out, practically glued to our face, snapping away at the gorgeous architecture and local scenery. Our collectiveoohs andahs as we loudly point things out to one another raise more than one eyebrow, but what’s the saying? When in Rome?

Arthur leads us directly to the bar when we enter the small stucco building and points at a nearby vacant booth before he disappears from view. I find myself sandwiched between Jenn and Ellie as Jo and Theo slide in across from us, immediately jumping into animated conversation.

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