He wore an old T-shirt with the sleeves torn off, and his lean muscles moved under coppery skin. He had a tattoo on the inside of his forearm--a small one that looked like raven wings. When he turned around, I caught the faint edge of another tattoo on his shoulder peeking from under his shirt.
He glanced over, like he'd sensed me looking. When I didn't turn away, he grinned and mouthed something I didn't catch, probably didn't want to.
Brendan helped Rafe into the harness. It took a while, the process punctuated by Rafe's questions. Then he stood at the base of the rock face, saying, "You put your toes here, right? And you grab those things that stick out?"
The others laughed and yelled, "Quit while you're ahead!" Daniel relaxed and rolled his eyes at me. I rolled mine back, but not for the same reason.
When we were finally in position, the others pulling away, I whispered, "Poseur."
Rafe glanced over, brows arching. "Keep calling me that and I might get insulted."
"Stop earning it and I'll stop saying it." I faced forward as I tested my rope and waited for Daniel to get to the top.
"Are you implying that I know how to climb?"
"Are you implying that I'm stupid enough to think you'd challenge me if you didn't? Of course, you can't be that good if you need to slow me down by pretending you don't know what you're doing."
He was about to shoot something back, when Daniel leaned over and called, "Ready?"
Rafe motioned for him to wait a second, then whispered, "How about we up the stakes? I win, you talk to me."
Now it was my turn to raise my eyebrows. "I'm afraid to ask what you mean by talk ..."
"Exactly that. I win, I get thirty minutes of your time tonight."
"To charm me and lie to me and pretend to be whoever you think I want?"
"Nope. Tonight it's me, in case you haven't noticed. The real Rafe Martinez. A special one-night appearance."
"And if I win?"
He grinned. "Then you get to spend thirty minutes with me, lucky birthday girl."
I laughed and motioned for Daniel to start the countdown.
Rafe still pulled the "I don't know what I'm doing" routine, starting slow and cautious, hoping I'd second-guess my assessment and take it easy. I didn't. He realized that when my foot reached his shoulder level. By the midpoint, he'd shot up to my waist, but his muttered curses told me he'd underestimated how good I was--or overestimated h
ow good he was--and it was clear he wasn't going to catch up in time. So I stopped.
Daniel leaned over and mouthed, "What are you doing?" Below, the others yelled, a cacophony of shouts and cheers and jeers. Rafe reached up, his bracelet hitting the rock with a ping. I glanced at it. A worn rawhide band with a cat's-eye stone. I could see his tattoo better, too, as he pulled himself up, and I recognized the symbol. A crow mother kachina. Hopi.
As he drew up alongside me, he cocked one brow.
"You really want that kiss don't you?" he said.
"No, I just want to see what you can really do."
He smiled then, a blaze of a grin that made me forget I was hanging twenty feet above the ground.
"All right then," he said. "No holds barred. On my count?"
I nodded.
"One, two, three ..."
We took off. I kept my face to the wall, throwing everything I had into the climb, certain I'd pull away to victory. But he stayed alongside me, his grunts and labored breathing telling me he was trying just as hard.
I struggled to concentrate, but all I could hear was his breathing. It was weirdly relaxing, like the ticking of a metronome, and I found myself moving faster, smoother, the rock seeming to glide under me, hands and feet finding the notches and grips automatically, like climbing a tree, that blissful feeling of going higher and higher, the earth and everything earthly vanishing below me, the air getting thinner, the world quieter as I pulled away until--