“Okay, so here are the options for this part.” I point to the shuttles lined up not too far away. “We can hitch a ride and it will bring us pretty close to the waterfall, or we can walk.”

“How far is the walk?” Mr. CrossFit asks.

“Not too far.” I try to remember what I read about this part. “I can’t remember the exact distance, but I do know it’s under a mile. And the view on the walk is amazing. Some people like to call it ‘the grandest mile of scenery’ in all of Colorado.” I don’t tell him that while I do agree with it being a spectacular freaking view, I think the people who came up with that title might be the marketing department for the Broadmoor.

“Well, if it’s the grandest, a word in the English language I don’t think gets as much respect as it should, then we have to walk. Taking in the views is the reason we’re here, after all.”

I was planning on teasing him for his grand feelings about the word grand, but then he said that last bit and my mind went blank. Not because he’s so excited to walk up this first stretch of road, but because when he said he was here for the view, he looked directly at me. Like I’m the view he’s here for. Like a day spent looking at me would be a day well spent.

Maybe I imagined it, but nobody has ever made me feel like that before.

Especially not a man who turns teenage girls and elderly women alike into giggling messes.

No.

Not ever.

And all of a sudden, even though we haven’t started on our hike, I feel a little light-headed and out of breath.

How come nobody ever warned me that being with a person like Jasper Williams would do things to my body that nature could never?

CHAPTER 11

I guess when I accounted for what nature can do to someone, I did so as a person who has been acclimated to the high Colorado altitude for all my life.

Jasper, on the other hand, can’t say the same thing.

“I’m so sorry.” He groans from where he’s lying on the rock, using my backpack as his pillow. “This has never happened to me before.”

“I should be the one apologizing.” I kick some leaves and twigs away and plop down onto the dirt beside him. “Here, drink some water.”

It’s a good thing that before the madness hit this morning, I filled up an extra water bottle, and Jasper brought one as well. Without them, I probably would’ve had to leave Jasper alone up here while I ran back to the base of the waterfall to buy a few. He reaches out his hand, his olive skin practically translucent with how pale he’s gone.