Page 19 of Passenger Princess

"You say pain in the ass, I say fun."

After dinner, when everyone starts to leave, we walk out onto the boardwalk. Ava looks at me, looks at the water, and then bites her lip.

"What is it?" I ask.

She sighs before rambling. "I know you'd rather chew glass than help me—" Ava starts, and I groan.

"Jesus, just spit it out."

"I need help taking pictures. For my social media."

I sigh, but considering I was an ass earlier, starting this trip off on the very wrong foot, I sigh and put out my hand. "Give it to me. You'll have to explain exactly how you want me to do it, though," I say.

She jumps and claps her hands. "Really? You're the best!"

Instead of handing me her phone, she stands close to me so I can smell her sweet perfume and shows me her screen.

"Okay, so hit this," she says, tapping a button to change the dimensions on the screen. "And then hit this to take a photo. But we need angles." She lifts the phone up in the air, then center, then down, miming what she wants me to do. "Literally, just don't stop taking pictures until I tell you, okay?"

I nod, and she moves to the railing of the boardwalk before saying,go, and beginning to pose. She shifts over and over for a minute, and I do exactly what she asks of me before she comes over to me, grabbing the phone and checking them. "Ugh, you're a natural. You've got the job."

"The job?"

"Of being my official photographer on tour." Then she taps the screen again, leans in, and moves her arms out until both of our faces are reflected on the screen. "Smile! Day one of the tour!" She smiles but I stay stoic, confused and utterly uncomfortable in front of a camera, and she laughs after taking a series of photos. "We have to work on that," she says. "You're like a British guard. I've gotta see if I can make you crack."

"Good luck with that," I mumble.

She steps back and smiles wide at me before gently tapping her hand on my cheek. "Oh, big guy, I don't need luck. Trust me."

That is exactly what I'm worried about.

"What's your handle?" she asks, tapping at the screen as we start to walk back down the boardwalk toward the parking lot.

"What?"

"What's your handle?" she asks without looking up, but I look down at her confused, no idea what she's saying. Eventually, she stops walking and looks up at me. "Like for social media?"

"I don't have social media."

"You don't have social media!?" she asks like it's some kind of great offense.

"No," I say, starting to walk again. "No need. It's a giant time suck, and I don't need to see people so into themselves and who needs the world to know their every waking thought."

"But social media ismorethan that! It's amazing. It connects people and inspires and teaches."

"I'm sure it does. It's just not for me."

"Wow. You're like an anomaly. The last person on earth without social media." She steps back, taking another picture of me. "I'm going to submit this to Guinness. You have to be a world record."

I snort out a laugh and shake my head, and she gasps, putting a hand to her chest.

"Oh, my. God. Did I make you laugh on day one too?!"

I roll my eyes at her but don't bother fighting the smile as she places her hand into the crook of my elbow and walks alongside me.

"We are going to begreatfriends, Jaime Wilde."

TEN

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