“Drew, the road.” His eyes crease around the sides, the lines I’ve spent hundreds of dollars on creams and potions to avoid only making his face more enjoyable to look at.

“Right.” I nod once, closing my mouth and blinking a few times to relieve my dry eyes. “That’s probably a good idea.”

Lucky for my car—and our lives—we’re past the stretch of highway that’s most congested and the car in front of me is still a safe distance away. The views out the window are less suburb-mini-mall realness and more hills-and-trees scenic. I try to think of anything else to say, but when a sign from the universe comes in the form of the opening notes of my favorite song playing from the speakers, I take it as the gift it is. I turn up the radio and focus on the road in front of me.

—

Unlike a lot of other places on my list, Seven Falls is run through the Broadmoor—a super-swanky hotel in Colorado Springs that people love but I have a personal vendetta against because of an experience in high school, and have I mentioned that I’m a grudge holder? So there’s not only dedicated parking and a shuttle, but also a ticket booth with an entrance fee.

I don’t love a tourist destination, but considering Jasper is a tourist and it’s only a short drive from the city, it is a perfect location for our first outing. I’ll be able to gauge his interest in hiking so I can further plan the rest of our trips.

“Two, please,” I say to the uninterested teen behind the plexiglass barrier and reach into my backpack for my wallet.

“Oh no. I got this.” Jasper’s huge, warm—and soft, but who noticed that?—hand halts my progress. He slides in front of me, wielding his credit card like a magic wand. I can only see his back now, but I can see the teen who was zero percent interested in me. By the way she perks up and her entire demeanor changes, it’s safe to assume he’s aiming his toothpaste-commercial-worthy smile at her.

He slides the credit card beneath the barrier and she reaches for it but misses twice. She’s unable to rip her eyes off Jasper Williams, Author, and apparently hero of teenage girls who hate their jobs. Good for him, I guess.

“He-here you g-go.” The poor thing can’t even say a simple sentence without stumbling over her words. She should’ve tried driving with him sitting beside her. The heat of his gaze damn near burned a hole through my skin. I had to pretend to love every song that played for the last forty minutes.

She slides the tickets out with his credit card, and I swear, she’s swooning so hard, her hand is trembling.