4. Rosalyn
ROSALYN
Iknew sleeping with Barrett would change something. I just didn’t expect it to change how the whole world feels. Two days ago he was a stranger who looked completely lost in paradise. This morning he’s lying beside me like he’s always belonged here.
I don’t know what happens next. I only know I don’t regret a single second.
Morning light filters through the hotel curtains, spreading early sunlight across the white sheets.
Barrett is asleep on his stomach, one strong arm lying across my belly.
He shifts with a quiet breath, then blinks once, coming awake.
His eyes meet mine, and the sleepy softness disappears beneath the familiar intensity that never seems far away.
“Morning,” I say, smiling.
A smile slowly spreads across his lips. “Morning, beautiful.”
Warmth floods my chest. But then I notice the clock on the bedside table. “Oh no.”
“What?”
“We’re supposed to be at the farewell brunch in ten minutes.”
He closes his eyes. “Fuck.”
I laugh. “Oh, the horrors of brunch.”
“I’ve reached my limit on organized social events.”
“Poor mountain man.”
His mouth twitches.
I slide out of bed to gather my clothes, aware of his eyes following me around the room. His gaze makes me feel cherished.
Then a new thought slips in. In a few hours, we’ll be saying goodbye. Probably forever.
I pull on my shorts and reach for my T-shirt, keeping my back to him while I pretend the knot in my chest isn’t there. “What time is your flight?”
“Three o’clock.” He waits a beat. “Come with me.”
I freeze. “What?”
“Come home with me.”
I stare at him, waiting for the smile that says he’s joking. It never comes. He sits up onto the edge of the bed, looking completely serious.
“You can’t possibly mean that,” I say, stunned.
“I do.”
“Barrett.”
“Rosalyn.”
My heart stumbles. I force out a laugh because the alternative is taking him seriously, and that feels too enormous. “Do you always ask women to come see your mountain after knowing them for two days?”
“I’ve never asked anyone.”
“Exactly.”
“So come.”
I shake my head because it’s the only response I can manage. “You’re unbelievable.”
“Is that a no?”
“It’s a…I mean…” I laugh. “Jesus. I don’t know.”
He stands and closes the distance between us. His fingers move beneath my chin, tipping my face up to his. “Promise me you’ll think about it.”
I nod, as if I’ll be able to think about anything else.
The farewell brunch passes in a blur. Everyone is tired and still glowing from yesterday’s wedding. Noah and Mindy look impossibly happy, and seeing them together makes me ache for a happy ending like that myself.
Barrett sits next to me. We don’t talk much because other people keep interrupting, but every time our eyes meet, the rest of the table feels like it fades away.
Eventually Mindy catches me alone while everyone starts saying their goodbyes.
“So,” she says with a knowing smile. “You and Barrett.”
I groan quietly. “Is it that obvious?”
“Only to anyone with functioning eyesight.”
I cover my face. “I wasn’t planning any of this.”
“I know.”
“I’ve completely lost my mind.”
“I don’t think you have.”
I lower my hands. “He asked me to go home with him.”
Mindy blinks. “He what?”
“He just…said it. Completely seriously.”
“For how long?”
“I don’t know. I’m sure just for a few days, or…I don’t know, Mindy. I’m still in shock.”
She stares at me for several seconds. “You aren’t actually considering going with him, are you?”
“I mean…no? Yes?”
She reaches for my hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. “Roz, I like Barrett. I trust Barrett.”
“But?”
“But you’ve known him for two days.”
“I know.”
“Go home. Give yourself a week. If he’s really the man you think he is, he’ll still be there.”
The thought makes my chest ache. “And if he isn’t?”
“Then you’ll be very glad you got on your flight today.”
An hour later I’m back in my room, folding clothes into my suitcase. My flight confirmation sits open on my phone.
Home. Back to my apartment, bartending four nights a week while I figure out what I want my next adventure to be. Back to weekend hikes with friends, scrolling travel deals during slow afternoons, and wondering where I’ll go next.
It’s a good life. Maybe not the life I imagined I’d have at this age, but a good one. So why does every piece of it suddenly feel duller than spending one more day with Barrett?
Going with him would be reckless. He lives on a mountain. I barely know him. People don’t build relationships this way. People definitely don’t accept invitations to spontaneously go home with giant mountain men they met forty-eight hours ago.
My practical side lists every reason to board my flight exactly as planned. Another part of me keeps asking one simple question: Doesn’t a girl deserve one truly wild adventure?
I zip my suitcase closed.
I still don’t know the answer.