by KD Robichaux
I watched her jog away, the toned muscles of her ass working behind those tiny black shorts, before she disappeared through the door marked Women. I shook myself. I shouldn’t be checking out a little teenager. I’m a damn twenty-year-old Specialist in the US Army, soon to be up for my next promotion. That’s the last thing I should be doing.
With that thought in mind, I tried to hold myself in check while Glover joked around with her. Glover, the nineteen-year-old Private from Kentucky, was my new cherry. He arrived to my unit a little over two weeks ago, and the poor kid hadn’t done anything off base or fun since he’d made it to Ft. Vanter. Part of the job, aside from making sure the people beneath my rank do the right shit and follow orders, is making sure they keep their head straight. Nothing could be more disastrous than a depressed soldier. So when I noticed Glover looking a little down in the chow hall this afternoon, I asked him if he wanted to check out this climbing place I’d seen an ad for in the paper. His eyes had lit up like a Christmas tree, and we made plans to come right after we got off work for the day.
I’d kept myself under control as she gave us the first of the required instruction before we could be tested and certified for belaying. But when her hands came so fucking near my cock to hook the locking carabiner onto my harness, I couldn’t control its natural reaction as it swelled and practically reached for her. All I could do was keep my face stoic, as if nothing had happened, even as she looked up at me, her breathtaking green eyes startled, confirming she hadn’t missed my dick twitch.
Then, I couldn’t help but smile when her tiny fist had lifted, and her pointer and pinky fingers shot up, her sweet, feminine voice deepening to a far from intimidating growl as she taught us the verbal cues to start climbing, ending with, “Rock on.” A tiny bit of her true personality had shone through her nervousness around me. And I could tell it was just around me. She didn’t seem affected by Glover—yet I hadn’t missed the flare of her nostrils and the brief narrowing of her eyes when he laughed after she asked if we were ready to learn how to belay.
That had pissed her off. Most people probably wouldn’t have picked up on that, but it’s my job to read people, notice the tiniest of changes in their demeanor. And if his condescending tone had pissed her off, then that meant she was probably pretty good at what she did, and knew it. That, and the fact the lady at the front desk called her Spidergirl.
Now, as I belay Glover—trying his best to make it up a wall that looks nearly impossible, since it has so few rocks on it, and the rocks that are screwed in don’t look big enough to hold up a toddler, much less a fucking 6’5” man like him—I watch her in action. I see exactly why Vi would have been offended by him laughing in her face. I can also see the reason she would own the nickname Spidergirl.
Staying down low on the wall, never standing up straight to reach a rock above her head, I see she’s only using rocks that have been circled in chalk, so she must be practicing a certain route. She starts at the far left side of the wall and places the outside of her left foot onto the first bottom rock, puts all of her weight on it, and she squats to place both hands on a larger grip, her arms outstretched. Her right leg comes up straight in front of her, running parallel with the wall. She doesn’t place her right foot on a rock; she just seems to press it against the textured wall itself.
Taking a deep breath, when she lets it out, she pulls herself forward, her left foot somehow spinning on its tiny rock so that it’s now her big toe pressed into it. Now, with the front of her body flush with the wall, her right leg stretches far enough to reach the next circled rock and her right hand grasps another. Observing her from this distance, right now, she looks as if she’s in a deep side-lunge, yet I know she’s somehow balanced on just a sliver of a foothold, making it look effortless.
Bringing her left hand to grip onto the same rock as her right, her tight ass juts out for a moment as she switches which leg her weight is on, now in a lunge to the right. Slowly, she outstretches her arms again, leaning away from the wall instead of holding herself tightly to it. It’s fascinating to watch. So slight, so frail, as if there is no strength in her lithe limbs, yet she moves across the wall so gracefully, almost like she’s floating.
A couple moves later, she reaches the spot where she’s fallen several times since she finished with our belay lesson. It had been her hissed, “Shit!” that brought my eyes to her after I’d hooked myself into the floor anchor ten minutes ago.
Until now, I had been unconsciously belaying Brian as I watched her, my eyes never leaving her, but still completely aware of my soldier up on the ropes. We learned and practiced rope work and rappelling until we could do it in complete darkness, using only the tension in the rope as a guide. So yes, although the idea of the young woman teaching us to belay was laughable, I hadn’t, because I never show my cards in a game of poker. I never know who I’ll come across that may be better at something than me, someone I can learn from, even if I have experience in it. Also, I never know when I might win in a fight by tricking the enemy into thinking I’m helpless. Maybe that’s a fucked-up way of thinking, not being an open person, but with the life I’ve led, it’s the only way I’ve survived.
As he calls, “Falling,” down to me, I lock him off until he lets go of the wall, then lower him without ever looking away from Vi, silently rooting her on in my head to make it past the part where she keeps slipping off.
She reaches for the miniature grip, thinks better of it, sticking her right hand into her bag for a fresh coat of chalk, and then places her fingertips on the rock once more. I watch, completely entranced, as she gently lays her cheek against the wall and slowly, ever so carefully, lets go with her left hand, bringing it behind her back to cover it in more chalk as well. Focusing in on her legs and ass, I can see the sleek muscles beneath her smooth skin flex and release, minute adjustments she probably doesn’t even realize she’s making as she keeps her balance in a near split.
This time, I hold my breath, shushing Brian with a raised fist before he even says a word at my side. The tension crackles in the air as we watch her, waiting for her to make her move. And finally, in one fluid transition, her body contorts until her left foot is where her right just was. She’s pinching the tiny rock in her left hand now, and without another foothold, she hooks the top of her right foot around the edge of the wall. One last movement of her hands to a much larger rock at the far end, and she’s done it.
She leaps off the wall and twirls with a whoop, the woman on the couch I noticed when we first walked over standing to high-five her then rub her back. Vi’s face beams, her smile so wide I can see almost every single one of her perfectly white, straight teeth. Gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous in all her pride at finally beating her self-given challenge.
Suddenly, both women’s eyes move in our direction as Brian starts clapping, yelling “Freakin’ awesome!” from our position at the wall across from them. Vi laughs and gives him a small wave before her eyes come to me, where I’m still staring in utter fascination.
“You want to climb now, Lowe?” Brian asks, and I pull my gaze away from her to look up at where he towers over me.
“It’s Corbin. We’re off the clock, bud,” I tell him, wanting it to sink in that I’ve brought him here to have fun. We aren’t Specialist and Private right now. We’re just two guys hanging out after work. He needs to let loose a little so the stress of our job doesn’t get to him, the way it looked like it was beginning to this afternoon at lunch. “Yeah, I’ll give it a shot,” I add, unhooking the belay device from my harness and trading it for his end of the rope.
Once I’m all tied in, I start my climb. It’s slow-going, as I look for rocks big enough to grip onto. When I saw the sign marking this wall Expert, I’d blown it off. How hard could it be? But now that I’m up here, trying to power through this route, I realize I made a big mistake.
My arms are trembling as I hang on to one of the largest rocks on the wall, which is only about the size of a golf ball, when suddenly
I hear that sweet voice call up to me, “Lean away from the wall, Corbin,” and I glance down to see Vi standing beside Brian. Her hands rest on her hips and she’s tilting her head up to look at me.
“What?” Does she want me to come down?
“Lean away from the wall,” she repeats. “You’re trying to muscle your way up the wall, and you can’t do that on this route. Grip that rock with one hand instead of both, and then slowly lean back, straightening out your arm.”
I do what she tells me, gripping the small hold with my right hand before leaning back. I take the opportunity to shake out my left arm, dipping my hand into my chalk bag. “Now what?” I ask her, when my biceps aren’t shaking and I have circulation back in both arms.
“Now find some rocks to get your feet up on… no, don’t turn your feet in. Always climb with your toes pointing outward. Never use the outside unless you’re in starting position or if it’s completely necessary. There you go. Bring your feet up as far as you can get them. That way you can just stand up to the next set of rocks above your head. No need to wear those big muscles out if you don’t really need to use them,” she calls, and I can’t help the smile that pulls at my lips.
She’s so small, and young, and had been so nervous around me up front. But here, in her element, having just conquered a challenge she had been working on tirelessly, her confidence is shining through, and she’s feeling brave enough to try and help me, even though my dumb ass thought I’d be able to simply He Man my way up an Expert-level wall.
I bring my feet up as she instructed, still holding on with just one hand. “Go slow. Don’t stand up too—”
But her warning is too late. Standing up on the tiny rocks the toes of my climbing shoes press into, I do it too quickly and my knees hit the wood, causing my feet to slip off the rock chips. I fall only a foot before my harness catches me, the rope yanking the straps tight into the creases between my legs and crotch. Brian lowers me to the ground, and as soon as my feet touch the floor, I jerk on the rope to give me more slack and pull the harness out of my balls.
“Good try. You actually got farther than most newbs would get on an expert-level wall,” Vi tells me, and it does a lot to soothe my bruised ego.
“How long have you been doing this?” I ask her, untying my knot.
“Every day for four years. I started when I was a freshman,” she replies, taking the rope from me and lacing it through the front of her harness.
Freshman. Four years ago? But she looks so young. It could be because of her fresh face and her petite frame, but I didn’t think she could be any more than fifteen. “How old are you?” I question before I can stop myself.
“I’m eighteen.”
Fuck.
IT DIDN’T ESCAPE me that Corbin’s quiet and standoffish demeanor changed almost the moment I told him I was eighteen. Or maybe it’s because I had just tried to help him with his technique. I’m not sure, but for the last hour, Brian, Corbin, and I have been climbing together, me showing them different fun routes around the gym that were easier than the Expert wall, but still challenging enough for two big, strong soldiers.
It did amazing things for my confidence when I demonstrated a route for them, and they’d clap and whoop for me before trying it themselves. Corbin really listened to everything I tried to teach him, taking it in with a nodding head before putting my instruction into action. Brian was just a big goofball, but he was able to get through most of the routes with his wingspan alone.
The strange feeling I had being near Corbin never went away, but it was easier to ignore when I was joking around with them in between teaching them stuff on the rocks. During Brian’s turns, Corbin would stand close to me, his huge tattooed arms crossed over his muscular chest, and every once in a while, his bicep would brush mine, sending tingles throughout my body.
In the middle of explaining something, if I happened to look him in the eyes instead of at the wall we were working on, it would steal my words. I could be in the middle of a sentence and lock gazes with him, and it was like someone pressed pause on my brain. It wasn’t until either my mom or Brian snapped us out of it that we continued with the lesson.
By the end of the night, when Sierra flashed the overhead lights, my stomach was hurting from laughing, and I was exhausted from my heart beating like I was running a marathon just being close to Corbin. We all sat on the worn-out couch to take off our shoes, Brian making me laugh once more by taking a whiff of one of his and falling to the floor, pretending he was dead. As funny as he was, and cute in a boy-next-door sort of way, it was Corbin I was unequivocally attracted to. Hell, I had never been more attracted to anyone in my life. And it wasn’t just his gorgeous face, chiseled body, or sexy bad-boy tattoos. It was something else altogether. Something I couldn’t really name, because it was an emotional connection instead of just a physical attraction.
Whatever it was pulled me to him and made me not want to let go. As tired as I was, I didn’t want to leave his presence. I didn’t want this night to end. So it was with an internal sigh of relief that I gave Corbin my phone number when he asked me for it, so we could get together again to climb. Out in the parking lot, as I was getting into Mom’s car, I heard Brian’s, “Bye, Vi! Ha! That rhymes!” before he folded himself into Corbin’s dark green Camaro, making me shake my head. Corbin grabbed a black ball cap off his front seat and placed it on his shaved head, squeezing the bill before he waved at me over the roof of his car, and I smiled before closing the door behind me.
Mom and I didn’t talk much on the way home. She tried to ask about what I thought of the boys, but I gave her a quick, “They were fun,” before going back to replaying the past few hours in my head.
So here I lie, in my lavender-covered, pillow-top twin bed, wide-awake three hours later, still thinking about dark chocolate eyes and tattoos I want to hear the stories behind. I wonder when Corbin will text me, to see when we can climb together again. I really need to go to sleep; I have to be up for school in just six hours. But I just can’t shut my brain off.
A half hour of tossing and turning later, my phone chimes, making me jump. When I pick it up off my nightstand, there’s a message from a number with a weird area code, and my heart thuds behind my ribs.
I enjoyed meeting and climbing with u. I’ll come on Friday if u’ll be there. –Corbin
I kick off my covers, reading the message over and over again. What should I say? Oh God, don’t be a dork. Don’t sound overly excited that he texted, but don’t sound like he’s bothering you either. Jesus, I have no idea what I’m doing.
Me 2. I’ll be there!
There. Short and sweet.
A smile tugs at the corners of my lips when my phone chimes again, and I read his message.
Corbin: Ur still up? I sent u that thinking u’d wake up to it in the morning. Or did I wake u?
Me: Can’t sleep. No worries.
Corbin: Me neither… Confession time?
My heart skips. What could he possibly want to confess? How do I even reply to that?
Me: Ok…
A few minutes pass, and I wonder if I said the wrong thing. But then his reply comes through, and I see it just took him a while to type it all out.
Corbin: This evening just keeps playing in my head over and over again. I can’t stop thinking about u, and it’s kind of freaking me out a little bit. When we first met… nah, never mind. It sounds stupid, and I don’t want u to think I’m crazy.
Me: No, tell me! I promise I won’t think ur crazy. I can’t sleep because I can’t get u out of my head either. I mean, the whole night was fun, getting to climb with you guys, but… idk.
Corbin: Well, since u promised. It’s like I felt u before I saw u. Something inside me sensed u were there before I laid eyes on u. And I’m not talking about that weird feeling u get like someone is watching u. I mean like, a part of me recognized u before we even met.
Wow. I don’t even know how to respond. I know exactly what he’s feeling, because I
did too. But for him to just come right out and say it? I always thought men played games and pretended like they weren’t interested for a while. Maybe that was just all in the movies.
Corbin: U there? I didn’t scare u off, did I?
Me: I’m here, just kinda surprised.
Corbin: Surprised about what?
Me: I had the same feeling. I’m just surprised u so readily told me. Aren’t guys supposed to play hard to get LOL
Corbin: Can I call u?
A squeak leaves my throat as my eyes widen at my phone. Texting is one thing. I can read what he messages me, and then have time to think about my reply, with the ability to delete it and try again if it doesn’t sound right. A phone call though… there is no backspace button.
But that voice. That deep, sexy voice I’d gotten to hear all night, once he finally started speaking. I want to hear it again, so I reply a simple, Yes.
My phone rings, and even though I knew he was about to call, it still makes me jump. I press Answer, and hold the cell to my ear. “Hello?”
“Hey, Vi,” he says, his voice low, and I hear movement.
“Hey,” I reply dumbly, closing my eyes. God, I’m so terrible at this. I hear a door close on his end, and then footsteps echoing. “What are you doing?”
“I’m walking out of the barracks so I don’t wake anyone up. I could use some fresh air anyways,” he tells me.
“Oh.” I pause, and then I have to ask, because I have no idea what he’s talking about. “What is a barracks?”
He chuckles. “How long have you lived here? Barracks are like shitty apartments for the military. They’re more like dorms, actually. Or what I picture dorms to be like. I wouldn’t know, since I didn’t go to college.”
“Oh, okay. I was born and raised here. But I’ve never met anyone in the Army before,” I explain, listening to another door close and then the sound of him groaning lightly, like he was sitting down.
“Where have you been?” he questions with a light laugh.
