Not His Best Trait

"Still kind of an asshole," I muttered as Ryan handed up my backpack.

Ryan put two hands on the terrace and got a leg up but didn't have Chad's strength. I set my backpack aside and grabbed his leg, awkward as I helped him slide his body onto the terrace. He remained in place, belly on the rock, breathing. I let him rest. Eventually, he stood and lifted my pack to my back.

"Probably good that he's here, though," Ryan said, helping me thread my arm through the pack's shoulder loop. "This trail is harder than I thought."

It took two more hours of hiking, hopping, and scrambling to clear the boulder field. My left ankle started to ache from all the odd angles and jumping around. I'd sprained it the year before trying to separate two wrestling fourth graders. Chad ranged ahead, helping the rest of our party follow the cairns and find the best way. Ryan was right: we would have turned back without his help. Near the ridge top, Chad found a small stream cascading through the rocks. It was nearly noon, so Ryan suggested we rest there for lunch.

My boyfriend squatted at the stream's edge to splash cool water across his face and neck. I strolled a short way upstream, admiring the small yellow flowers growing in clumpy islands amidst the flow of water. A soft breeze cooled the sweat on my face, and I took a deep breath of mountain air. I was tired, but the burble and splash of the cascade was reviving.

A feminine giggle drew my attention, and I turned to find Chad peeling off his shirt. I gaped as he revealed a broad swath of smooth, tanned skin embossed with a mounded grid of abdominal muscle. Broad, heavy chest muscles came next, each punctuated by a small, flat nipple. Tracy leapt into the shirtless Chad's arms, her legs wrapping about his waist. Chad's biceps flexed as he held her weight, his arms doubling in size as the big muscles bunched into prominent balls. His shoulders were impressive, too, the thick, rounded hills of hard flesh rippling as he pulled Tracy to his body. They kissed, of course, and an unsettling lust bubbled in my guts.

With a jerk of my head I turned away to find Ryan shaking his wet hair like a dog. My cute miniature schnauzer. He grinned at me happily and I smiled back, but my body yearned to be picked up and held. I wanted the Belgian Malinois, sleek and strong, behind me.

As we settled on the banks of the cascade with our sandwiches, Tracy finally got around to asking me about my life. "How's the third grade?"

I chewed and swallowed before answering. "It's hard right now. The kids, they're struggling."

"Oh, why is that?" asked Tracy.

"So many were learning remotely during the pandemic. They need support, you know? Some even need psychological help."

Chad made a derisive snort.

I frowned. "What's wrong with that?"

I waited as he tossed an almond in the air, catching it with his mouth. There was a loud crunch as his teeth snapped the nut.

"What they need is some structure. Some discipline."

I shook my head. "There's too much structure already in education."

"That's some woke bullshit," Chad said.

I looked over at Ryan. He wore a surprised expression, half-eaten sandwich held poised a couple inches from his mouth.

"Excuse me?" I said as if I hadn't heard.

Chad's lips slid into a patronizing smile. "Everyone's always saying, 'I need help.' 'I need resources.' 'I need a psychologist 'cuz I'm depressed,' Give me drugs. Give me money. Gimme my mommy. Education should teach kids inner and outer strength, discipline."

"Spoken like a true Marine," I said ruefully.

"Damn straight."

"The world is not a combat mission, Chad." I spoke his name like a curse.

"Who got you up that boulder?"

"Your gym membership."

Chad shook his head. "Such an entitled bitch."

Tanya gasped.

Ryan stood, a quarter of his peanut butter sandwich clutched in one fist. "Okay, okay. No need to get personal."

Chad rose, the move sudden and aggressive. Ryan stepped back, his heel connecting with the corner of his backpack. He tripped, swiveling as he fell to land hard on his side, his head just missing a rock. His sandwich flew from his hand to land with a plop in the stream.

"Ryan! Are you okay?" I rushed to his side.

"Not a combat mission, eh? I scared him by standing up," Chad gloated.

Ryan glared. "I'm fine," he said.

He pushed himself to sitting and checked his arms for scrapes. One elbow was bleeding. I rummaged in the top of my pack for a packet of tissues. I wet one with water from my bottle and used it to clean Ryan's wound.

Chad returned to his place and continued to toss almonds into the air, expertly catching each one in his mouth. Tracy watched, mesmerized. After a few moments, she blinked and stood.

"Alright," Tracy began, eyeing Chad then Ryan. "Agree to disagree. That's not so hard. We're not far from the top, right?"

Ryan winced at my ministrations, then answered. "Less than a mile."

"Well, we should probably go," Tanya said, stretching her graceful arms above her head. "Getting down all those boulders will take awhile."

Crap. I'd forgotten that part. We were going to have to go down the same way.

I looked over at Chad. He regarded me with an odd expression, as if measuring me for a new dress. Or a coffin. He noticed me staring, and one corner of his mouth tugged upward into a half-smile. His handsome face became roguish, a mix of Jack Sparrow and Han Solo, untamed and unflinching. He tossed another almond in the air, caught it, chewed once, then stood. He lifted his big backpack as if it were empty, tossing it over one shoulder, and walked up the trail.

"Sorry," Tracy whispered. "He's, you know, ex-military."

"Personality is not his best trait," I stated flatly.

"Nope," she said, unperturbed.

Tracy continued her stretching routine until I had Ryan on his feet, then she turned to follow Chad up the ridge.

We caught up to the two a few minutes later, Tracy clearly having made Chad wait for us. Despite the wind rising as we climbed the ridge, the big man had not put on his shirt, a fact I found annoying and thrilling at the same time. Heaps of heavy muscle defined his broad upper back, which tapered dramatically to a tight waist, his spine a deep divot between long cords of strength. I had the feeling Chad was aware of my gaze because he frequently found reason to rub his neck or scratch the back of his head, the movement drawing attention to his powerful shoulders and arms.

Every step I took along the ridge felt like a strange, multifaceted drowning: my legs were leaden with exhaustion, my pussy wet with arousal, my mind submerged in lustful thoughts.

I worked against the lust by focusing on my anger. An entitled bitch? I was a third-grade teacher, for chrissakes. I wanted my students to be happy, healthy, and sane. What was entitled about that? How was that 'woke'? He was the entitled asshole, acting as if his manliness gave him a right to judge everyone else.

Tracy gasped and my mixed-up emotions puffed out of existence. I'd been so busy salivating over Chad's back while also wanting to stab it that I hadn't noticed the scraggly high altitude trees giving way to a viewpoint. We stood some fifty feet above one end of a shimmering mountain lake, a long oval of blue dappled with sunlight. At the other end stood a great tower of rock, gray and black, rising three hundred feet above the water's surface.

My eyes traced across the vista, gathering detail. The view was like a romantic painting of the Wild West brought to life. A small group of deer gathered at the far edge of the lake. An eagle soared about the promontory's heights. Ringed ripples spread on the water as fish fed on insects.

"Wow," Tracy said.

"Dang," Ryan said.

"Holy shit," I said.

Chad tossed an almond into the air and crunched.

Tracy snapped a pic with her phone, then turned to Ryan. "Can you take one of me and Chad?"

Ryan nodded. Chad joined Tracy, who leaned and twisted her torso in a classic model pose. She put her hand on Chad's chest and popped her pelvis, showing off her curvy butt. Neither smiled, keeping their expressions neutral, though for Chad it seemed more out of boredom than modeling chops. The two looked like something out of a high-end outdoor clothing catalog.

"Take another," Tracy urged, turning to lean back against Chad. She reached down and dragged his arm around her waist. This time she smiled triumphantly, as if the gorgeous hunk had just proposed marriage.

My growing disdain for Chad warred with envy for Tracy. My eyes traced Chad's long, thickly muscled arm, remembering the strength there, how tightly he'd held my wrist, how easily he'd lifted me onto the rock shelf. What would it feel like to have that arm hold me like that?

Tracy stepped forward and claimed her phone from Ryan, breaking my reverie. My eyes flitted to Chad's face. He returned the look, a small, knowing smile on his lips. Ugh. He'd seen me checking him out.

"Let's go to the lake," Tracy announced, setting off down the slope. She didn't bother to check if anyone was following her.

Ryan scrambled after, an odd, puppy dog look in his eyes. Wait a minute. I frowned, considering. Was he as dazzled by Tracy as I was by Chad? Had I seen that look on Ryan's face before? Maybe I was projecting. Or, perhaps I was recognizing something for the first time because I was feeling the same.

A tingling heat crept along the back of my arm. I turned to find Chad standing next to me. He was gazing out at the lake, acting as if he'd come around to this spot for the view.

"I wish I'd brought my rifle," he said, nodding toward the end of the lake where the deer had gathered.

I knew he'd said it to annoy me, and I tried hard not to feel annoyed. I failed.

"Is that really what you feel here? A desire to kill something?"

"Venison is delicious," he said, turning to look at me.

Our gazes locked. Chad took a half step, pressing the side of his torso against my arm. My stomach dropped. No one should be allowed to be so gorgeous!

His bare chest was warm against my skin. As I dragged in an unsteady breath, I smelled him. Salty sweat, musky skin, piney Chad-ness. Fuck, he smelled amazing. Moisture flooded my mouth and my pussy. I should step away, but he felt so good pressed against my body, all hard and sexy.

"Maybe someday I'll feed you some," Chad said, his baritone rich, suggestive.

God, his voice--so deep. His lips curved into an inviting smile, his blue-gray eyes staring into mine.

"I'm a vegetarian," I said, stupidly, my voice raspy and halting.

Chad laughed and stepped back, breaking the spell he'd cast. "Of course you are."

He smirked and looked me over with an appreciative nod. Then, he turned and walked toward the lake. Asshole. He'd done all that on purpose, relishing his effect on me. Several thigh squeezes later, I quelled my trembling and made my own way down.

We spent an hour at the lake's edge. Tracy took off her shoes and waded in, laughing and splashing. Ryan took pictures. Chad skipped rocks. He showed unusual proficiency, sending stones spinning halfway across the lake.

I tried to enjoy the idyllic location, but in truth I was distracted. When I wasn't ogling Chad's rippling muscles and easy coordination, I was watching Ryan. He smiled and encouraged me to wade in with Tracy, but, when I declined he didn't press. Instead, he aimed his phone at Tracy and her antics.

No wonder my friend was lukewarm about Ryan. Why hadn't I noticed his fixation earlier?

Tracy did nothing to dissuade his gaze, of course. She enjoyed the attentions of both men, though she had to work harder to interest Chad. He ignored her appeals to go in the water until she kicked a spray of water at him. Then, he toed off his shoes and charged in after her. She made it about two steps before he caught her around the waist.

Chad heaved her over his shoulder. Tracy screamed and kicked, sending the deer bolting for the forest. Water dripped over Chad's half-naked body as he carried her to shore, giving her ass a sound spanking as he did so. My own butt cheeks tingled and grew warm watching that display. As Chad lowered Tracy to her feet, I caught sight of an impressive bulge outlined against his wet shorts. Boom, boom, orgasms. Then, Tracy leapt at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. Chad cupped her cheek, and the two made out, mouths and tongues working.

Ryan and I stared. I finally turned, abashed, but Ryan kept watching, mouth slightly open, eyes hungry. He wanted to be Chad. I wanted to be Tracy. It was pathetic.

Emotions clogging my throat, I tried for a searing remark but couldn't get anything out. I stalked to my backpack. Tearing open the zipper on the top pocket, I stowed my phone with a violent shove. Tears threatened as I tucked my water bottle into the mesh pouch on the side. The day had turned shitty: my boyfriend was infatuated with my friend who was infatuated with an asshole who was hitting on me to boost his ego. And, I had to go back to a job on Monday that was hard and unappreciated. Fuck this day.

I turned to the group while lifting the pack onto my back. Chad and Tracy were still making out, Tracy's hand squeezing Chad's ass while he ran his thumb across one of her fine cheekbones. Ryan was still staring, phone clutched in one hand, tongue darting out to lick his top lip like a skeez.

"I'm going to hike back," I announced. I turned on my heel and headed up the short slope to the trail.

There was a long pause as I stomped alone up the hill side. Then, I heard Ryan's shout.

"Coming!"

I didn't look back. I wanted this day to be over. I wanted to be away from my blonde friend and her stunning new lover.

It wasn't long before the group caught up with me; I had the shortest legs. We made our way down the ridge without much conversation. No one appeared perturbed by my sudden departure, though Ryan eyed me with a wary look. I hoped he was thinking about how obvious his infatuation had become, but more likely he didn't know what was going on and feared my sudden change in mood.

Chad took the lead once we arrived at the boulder field. I stopped for a moment to inspect the formidable piles of rock. I was already tired, and this time I knew what we were getting into. Or, at least, I thought I did.

Turns out going down a boulder field is harder than going up. The first couple scrambles took forever, as Chad had to guide us each to the proper holds, which were often not visible from above. The boulder hopping required more attention to balance.

We were about two-thirds of the way down when Ryan stopped on a rock to take yet another fucking picture of Tracy, who had adopted yet another fucking fashion pose, arm raised against a pointy boulder, head tilted to one side. Instead of waiting for them and following the path designated by the cairns, I leapt to a different rock. It tilted, almost toppling over. My ankle rolled, pain shooting through the joint and up my leg. I toppled sideways, shoulder slamming into a nearby rock. I rolled and turtled, landing on my backpack, which wedged between two boulders, saving me from a longer tumble.

"Robin!" Ryan shouted in alarm. "Are you okay?"

I could only groan and stare at the sky. I'd felt this pain before: my ankle was sprained.

Ryan's face, full of concern, appeared above me. "Are you okay?"

This time I was able to answer. "No. My ankle."

Tracy appeared next. She took one look at my face and called down the trail, "Chad, come back! Robbie's hurt!"

Ryan knelt by my side. "Let's get you out of this crack."

With his assistance, I struggled out of my backpack. Then, I used my good leg to push my body against another rock, which I could use as a backrest to sit up. Chad arrived as Ryan, having removed my shoe, drew down my sock. The joint was already swollen and puffy.

"That's going to make it tough to get down," Chad said.

"No shit," I growled. My whole lower leg was throbbing. The bruising wasn't visible yet, but it would come.

Ryan stood and looked west. "We've got a couple hours of daylight left."

"Could you carry her?" Tracy asked Chad.

"Through this? Not likely."

"We need to call search and rescue. Does anyone have service?" Ryan asked. It was a pointless question. We hadn't had cell service since leaving the main road--it would be a couple of hours before anyone could call for help.

Chad squatted next to me, inspecting my foot. "Have you sprained it before?"

I nodded.

"How bad does it feel?"

I wanted to say 'bad'--my ankle hurt. But I understood what he was getting at.

"Not as bad as before. I could limp, maybe."

Chad nodded and turned to Tracy. "I've got a first aid kit in the truck. Under the passenger seat. There's a couple ACE bandages in there. We can wrap her ankle and help her down the trail."

Tracy's eyes widened as Chad handed her his keys. "You want me to go? What about you? You'd be faster."

"Unless Ansel Adams here has medical training, I should stay."

Ryan shook his head.

"I don't want to go alone!" Tracy cried.

"Take him with you," said Chad.

Tracy stared at him, mouth open. "But--."

"Get going," he said, cutting off her protest. "Ryan's right--we only have a couple hours to sunset."

As Chad transferred a water bottle and jacket to Ryan's pack, my boyfriend knelt by my side, putting a hand on my shoulder. "We'll be back as quick as we can. Hang in there."

I bit off a caustic retort. Ryan was so excited about his alone time with Tracy that he hadn't even argued with Chad. I knew that was unfair: Chad's plan made sense. The person with medical training should stay with the injured. But Ryan could at least have acted like he wanted to stay with me.

I squeezed Ryan's hand and nodded. He stood, taking his pack from Chad.

"Don't rush through these boulders," Chad warned. "We don't need another injury today."

Ryan nodded and slung his pack. Tracy flung herself against Chad. He gave her a quick kiss. She pouted.

"I don't want to go," she whined. "Ryan can do it."

"You're a better climber," said Chad, causing Ryan to scowl. "It's safer to go as a pair."

"We can go, then," Tracy begged. "Leave them here."

"I'm the doctor, remember," Chad replied, running his hand over her long blond tresses. His voice grew soft. "It won't be long. You can be my hero this time."

Tracy looked like she was about to cry, but she nodded. "Okay. See you soon."

Chad smiled the way some fathers do when dropping off their screaming eight year-olds at school.

Ryan led Tracy down the trail. We watched in silence until the pair disappeared behind a big chunk of rock.

"Fuck," Chad said, shaking his head.

I looked up, eyebrows raised.

"Not you," he said. "You'll be fine."

"Tracy?"

"She's obsessed with me. It's fucking annoying."

"Isn't that what men want? To have a 'hot chick' obsessed with them?"

"Not like that. She clings to me like an abandoned puppy."

He was probably right, but I didn't know what to say to that.

"This is a shit spot," Chad remarked. "We should move."

"But I can't--." I was going to say "move," but Chad grabbed his pack and bounded across the boulder field before I could finish my sentence.

I shifted, trying to find a position without a jagged rock poking me. Chad was right: this was a shit spot. He reappeared a few minutes later.

"I found a better place," he said, stuffing my sock into my shoe and tying the laces to a strap on my pack.

"But how am I supposed to--."

I broke off as Chad shouldered my pack and put an arm around my back and another under my knees. He lifted me easily and set out in the direction he had explored. The man was efficient, I'd give him that.

He was also still shirtless.

And strong.

And he smelled good.

And I'd been dreaming about him holding me.