“Just open your mouth, I’ll squirt some in for you.” I feel terrible for him. He’s lying on a rock and unable to move without his nausea ratcheting up about a hundred notches, but I’m so freaking grateful he can’t see me. Because if he could, there’s not a doubt he would be able to read my mind after what I said—with very pure intentions—made me think some filthy fucking thoughts.

Instead, he keeps one arm limp at his side while the other rests over his eyes, blocking what little sun the trees above us haven’t filtered out already, and opens his mouth.

We sit here for a little while longer. I force him to drink every few minutes until his color begins to gradually return.

Thank god.

“Fuck. Talk about embarrassing.” Jasper uses his elbow to help him sit up. “I thought I was going to impress you with my CrossFit strength and outdoorsy skills.”

“Stop it.” My tone is gentle but firm. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I should’ve thought about this before taking you on a hike that requires a steep incline spike up stairs when you’re not used to the altitude here. This could’ve happened to anyone. If anything, now you know how to write about altitude sickness in your book if it comes up.”

He groans again, squeezing his eyes shut and letting his head fall back. “No way am I writing about this. I’m going to do everything I can to forget this ever happened so I have no recollection of today’s events.”

I know he’s joking and that even if he wanted to, he couldn’t just forget about our day. But still, the idea of it makes my heart twist, because even though he ended up vomiting once or twice, our time leading up to it was the most fun I’ve had in months.

“Don’t do that.” I lean forward, handing him the water bottle so he can take another small sip. “Because if you can write what I experienced walking to the waterfall and up the stairs with you, it’s bound to be a bestseller.”

“Yeah?” The cloudiness that has dulled his eyes for the past hour begins to lift. “You mean that or are you just trying to make me feel better so we can finally leave?”

“Well . . .” I pretend to ponder this question when the reality is I wouldn’t mind staying up here, enjoying the peace and quiet and stealthily snapping pictures of Jasper’s perfect profile—like a creep!—forever. “Kidding! I hate that you got sick, but even with a minor bump in the road, I’ve loved this. I just hope it hasn’t scared you off of the rest of the excursions I have planned for you.”