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“You know, whenever you’re nice to me, I think you’re up to something.” She squints at me. The sunlight catches the gloss on her lips, and I want to kiss her until it’s all over me.

“Better get used to it. I’m going to be nice all the time. It’ll be like torture.”

I roll her into my embrace, her back against my chest, and bite her shoulder. She tastes like the kind of sunshine I want beaming on me every day for the rest of my life.

“All you want to do is bite me,” she complains.

“All you want to do is bang me,” I say near her ear, making her giggle.

She playfully smacks me before shimmying out of my grasp. She hefts on her backpack and stomps off toward the trailhead.

“I warned you that you’d fall for me.” I squeeze in one last jab as I catch up, and we pass the entrance sign for the Hanakāpī’ai Falls trailhead.

“Last chance to back out of the hike,” I say.

“Are you afraid I’ll out-hike you now?” She smiles over her shoulder.

“Sparkles, I’d let you, just to watch that ass from behind.”

She laughs and takes a defiant lead, and I note that she sways her hips a little more for show. I follow, completely mesmerized, all the way to Ke’e Beach, where we stop for lunch.

After that, the footpath quickly gains elevation. It’s a little overgrown and challenging. Bright green tropical ferns sweat with moisture, and low palms make everything emerald-green and lush.

Sophia and I take our time, careful to cross streams, not to slip on rocks or trip over gnarled roots. We snap photos at ocean vistas, misty mountain views, vertical forests of bamboo thickets, and a mango tree that smells amazing. Then we turn our cameras on each other and snap photos together. Some turn out cute, while many are terrible action shots, but all are perfect.

Perfectly us.

In my mind, there will be a day in the future where we print these photos, sit side by side at our kitchen table, and fill a book with these memories. We’ll add it to our bookshelf, alongside many books filled with unforgettable adventures. Then we’ll share the stories with our loved ones and laugh about how our insta-hate turned to unending love.

I swallow. Is this what love feels like?

I’ve danced around the word but never used it in a direct way. Those three words used so simply mean something more. I play with them in my head, imagining saying them aloud.

I love you. I love you. Sophia, I love you. My heart swells.

After a few hours and after considering every way to tell Sophia I love her, we step into a clearing. The three-hundred-foot cascading veil of Hanakāpī’ai Falls appears. Mist rises over the plunge pool. Rainbows shimmer within the droplets.

“It’s amazing!” Sophia’s voice echoes off the vertical mountain face like in a cathedral. She tosses up her arms and lifts her chin to the beauty.

I snap a picture of her. I want to remember her like this always.

“I used to hike here when I was younger. It’s peaceful, clears my head,” I say as we traverse the rock path, moving closer to the falls.

“How could you leave this for the mainland?” Sophia stops at the edge of the pool. She drops her backpack on a large flat rock and removes a water bottle.

“Culinary school. Dreams of returning to the city I was born in. Owning my own restaurant.” I take a sip from my water jug.

“What kind of restaurant?” she asks.

“Someplace classy but approachable, artsy but not stuffy, and entertaining but not corporate.”

“While cooking half-naked?” She smirks.

“The health department may take issue with that.” I laugh.

“Oh, I know!” She claps the side of her water bottle. “The servers should wear black aprons with the outlined drawings of naked bodies printed on them, like Italian Renaissance art from famous sculptures. Think David or Venus. And then,” she points, turning even more excited, “servers can carry a salami in their back pocket and use it in funny tableside presentations. But fancy salamis, none of that cheap stuff.”

“Roger on the fancy salamis.” I chuckle.