Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 113330 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113330 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
With a ridiculous little giggle, I slide Roman’s pack onto my shoulders and hop aboard, at which point my own personal Superman for the day grips my thighs and begins scaling the rock formation like it’s an anthill.
Swoon.
I hate thinking about Brandon again, especially at a romantic moment like this, but I can’t help it. I never minded Brandon being on the short side, and I’ve never found classic gym-bro-athlete-beefcakes all that attractive. But I can’t deny Roman’s height, brawn, and strength are insanely attractive to me. His muscles aren’t for show. He didn’t sculpt them in a gym simply to impress his gym-rat friends and get chicks. This man’s a true athlete—that much is clear. One who plainly revels in putting his gorgeous body, and his own limits, to the test.
Roman easily reaches the peak of the large rock formation. And all of a sudden, we’re treated to an unimpeded panoramic view that knocks my socks off: rainforest, waterfall, and blue skies that stretch into and blend with the aquamarine ocean beyond it all.
“It truly is paradise,” I breathe out, as Roman crouches down and lets me stand on my own two feet. “Did I die, Roman? Is this heaven?”
“Heaven couldn’t improve on this, that’s for sure.”
Mere yards away, that spectacular waterfall is thundering at full force, with so much power, it’s spraying us with a gentle, cool mist—a barrage of tiny, rainbow-hued orbs that float around us and land on our skin like a gentle, ethereal embrace.
“Thank you for taking me here,” I whisper, still looking around in awe. “I’ll never forget it.”
“Thank you for saying yes to coming,” Roman replies. He slides his hand in mine, prompting me to look at him, and when our gazes meet, Roman flashes me a smile that’s so panty-melting, I reflexively hurtle myself at him. We kiss for a long time, as birds chirp and flowers bloom and the waterfall thunders around us. As our passion ignites, and our lips and tongues devour, we run our hands over each other’s cheeks and hair, like we can’t get enough. But unlike earlier at the trailhead, Roman doesn’t take things further than first base this time, which somehow makes the moment feel that much sweeter and more romantic.
After we break apart, we find a comfortable spot on a rock, where we enjoy the view, chat, and dig into our snacks and sports drinks. Mostly, though, we savor our stunning surroundings in comfortable silence.
After being left to my own thoughts for a few minutes, I’m suddenly struck with an epiphany about myself: I’m a people pleaser to a fault. I’ve always known I’m accommodating and compromising by nature. I prefer avoiding conflict, if possible. But suddenly, I can plainly see how much my natural tendencies have gotten out of control over the past several years. Ever since the shocking loss of my mother, I’ve taken a back seat in my own life. In terms of my relationship with Brandon, I slowly became a doormat. More intent on keeping the peace and not making waves than being happy myself. Why did I ignore so many red flags?
“What are you thinking?” Roman asks.
“Hmm?”
“You look like you’re thinking deep thoughts over there.”
“I am,” I admit. “I just realized something. No, decided something.” As Roman looks at me expectantly, like he’s hanging on my every word, I take a deep breath and speak on my exhale. “From this moment on, I’m going to do what I want and not worry about what anyone else thinks about it.”
“Atta girl. Good for you.”
“As long as I’m being true to myself, that’s all that matters.”
“Love to hear it. Absolutely.” He runs a fingertip down my forearm and smiles. “Go, Iris, go. Earn that blooming-flower name of yours to the fullest.”
My heart stops. My mother always said she named me Iris in the hospital, instead of the name she’d initially planned, because she took one look at me and thought, You’re prettier than the prettiest flower.
Roman takes my hand. “You can be anyone you want to be, Iris. Always remember, this is your life and nobody else’s, okay?”
I nod, stuffing down tears. “Thank you so much for taking me here.”
“Trust me, the pleasure has been mine.”
I scoot toward him on the smooth boulder and press my lips against his bare, broad shoulder. “I’ll never forget this day with you, Roman. Thank you.” It’s a true statement. But if I were feeling comfortable enough not to hold back at all, I’d probably have said it differently: I’ll never forget you, Roman. Considering the temporary nature of this fling, though, and the way I’ve already overshared and said far too many stupid things, I think the incomplete truth I’ve admitted out loud is good enough.
I’m not going to date for a long while, once I get back to Denver. I’ll take time to work on myself and become the blooming flower my name implies. But after this unforgettable day with Roman, I’m thrilled to realize I feel capable of loving someone again. One day. In the distant future. And that in itself, considering where I started out the day emotionally, feels like nothing short of a miracle.