Kelley Armstrong - The Gathering

After a moment, I grinned over at him. “Loser.”

“The rope slipped,” he said, tugging at it, like he was testing the belay system.

“You just keep telling yourself that. It’ll keep you busy while you’re building those new holds.”

“You still need to beat everyone else. You haven’t won yet.”

“Just keep telling yourself that, too.”

He laughed and gave me a shove. I returned the favor, sending him swinging, then belayed down before he could retaliate.

The next challenger was Sam. She was strong enough to climb and obviously had some experience, just not enough to give her a serious shot at victory. She took the defeat well, though, just teasing me in a surprisingly good mood.

The other guys were easy wins. Everyone was joking about a rematch with Daniel and ribbing the guys about losing a kiss and gaining a weekend of work, when a familiar voice drawled, “Is the game over? Or is there room for one more?”

RAFE WALKED OUT OF the forest. The leather jacket was gone, replaced by a tattered denim one. Instead of boots, he wore sneakers that looked as old as the jacket. As he walked toward us, his gaze was fixed on me like he didn’t notice anyone else there.

“You’re late,” I said.

“Yeah, had some trouble getting away. Then I figured I was at the wrong place until I saw the gifts and followed the papayas.”

He stopped in front of me and smiled—his real smile, the crooked one that made my breath flutter. To my left, Daniel rocked forward. He didn’t say anything, just stayed poised like that, watching for trouble. Rafe didn’t seem to notice. His gaze stayed locked on mine, crooked smile fainter now, but his eyes still shimmering.

“So did I hear right?” he said. “Race to the top? Winner gets a kiss?”

“Maya’s done seven climbs in a row,” Daniel said. “You can race me.”

“But I don’t want to kiss you.”

The others laughed. Rafe didn’t even look at Daniel when he answered, just kept watching me with a smile that now held a hint of challenge.

“If she says no, she forfeits the new grips,” Corey said. “She had to defeat all comers. That was the deal.”

“I’m the one who offered,” Daniel said. “So it stands as is. He’s late.”

“I am. So it’s up to Maya. She’s already won. I’m just the bonus round.”

He grinned then, but it was a different kind of grin, a mock arrogance that made me laugh and shake my head.

I looked into his eyes and saw the challenge sparkling there, and I hadn’t even decided what to do when I heard myself saying, “You’re on.”

As Rafe walked over to the dangling harness, he stripped off his jacket, earning him giggles and whispers from the girls and grunts from the guys, who weren’t nearly as impressed. Rafe skipped gym whenever he could, so I’d assumed he wasn’t the athletic type. I was wrong.

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 how 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—

My hand hit the top ledge and I jolted out of it, and looked over to see Rafe beside me, sweat dripping down his face, eyes glowing, face glowing, his gaze locked on mine again, lips parting to say something—

A jerk on my harness made me look up sharply as Daniel adjusted the rope, preparing to let me belay down. The look on his face told me who’d won.

“Damn,” I said. “Seriously?”

“By a fingertip,” Rafe said. “You need to grow longer arms.”

Before we’d even hit the ground, the others crowded around, asking who’d won. I waited for Rafe to claim the victory. He didn’t. So I told them.

“Because she let you catch up,” Sam said. “I wouldn’t count that as a win.”

“Which is why I didn’t say I won,” Rafe said, as he undid his harness.

“Still counts,” Corey said. “Give the guy some room so he can collect his prize.”