If the guy isn't making her happy...

Against your better judgement, you're swayed by her dark, intense eyes. Jordan doesn't just want you to answer, she needs you to answer - and you never can think straight around a woman who knows her way around rocks. Your one weakness...!

You swallow. "It sounds like your answer boils down to one real question."

Jordan hovers closer. She smells like a mixture of industrial-grade alpine antiperspirant and climbing chalk.

"Do you want to marry your boyfriend?"

"Not really, but..." Jordan trails off.

"Then you already have your answer. You just don't like it."

"But I don't want it to be my answer," says Jordan. "I can't just tell him no, can I? It'll kill him."

"It'll kill him, or it'll kill you?" you ask. "Look, I just met you, but it sounds like you're more worried about what he'll think about you than you are his feelings. Just saying, if I were in his shoes, I'd want to know what you were thinking. Not knowing - or worse, hoping you'll say yes - has to be a lot worse than a simple no."

If Cori told you sooner how she felt... but she didn't.

Jordan mulls over what you said. "And you're sure haven't done this before?"

You dismiss the praise. You know a lot of tomboys, and the one thing they all have in common is they're all bad at dealing with their emotions. On more than one occasion, Mom's used you as a therapist when she failed to hit Master rank on Apex Legends.

"I'm new to this job, not new to life," you say. "It's not my first time around the block."

"So I should tell him no," says Jordan, furrowing her brow.

"You should figure out why you want to say no, and talk to him about it," you clarify.

"And if that's how it ends..." Jordan continues, deep in thought.

That's not exactly what you said, but the thought of a woman like Jordan being single... you'll leave it up to interpretation.

"Then that's how it ends," you echo, a thrill racing down your spine. Not exactly a contradiction, but it's in Jordan's hands, not yours.

After dwelling on your advice for another moment, Jordan cracks her neck and stretches out her fingers. "Damn, that sucks, but better to rip off the bandaid than peel it off slow," she says, resigned to the situation. "Man, what a weight off my back, too. I came her to work out the stress about Warren, but now I'm ready for a whole 'nother run at the walls. Thanks, Marshal! Good thing you had some questions for me, huh?"

She does seem happier. "I should be thanking you, if anything," you say, uncertainly. "I'd still be in the dark without your help."

Jordan laughs heartily and gives you a good-natured slug in the arm. Ow, fuck - that's going to bruise. "Nope. Any tomboy could've answered your questions, you're the only one who could've answered mine," says the climber, with a proud smile. "Whatever you paid to get in here, I'll spot it. What's the fee run these days? 20 bucks?"

You rub your shoulder. "Didn't pay a thing. I have an annual pass."

Jordan is impressed. "Didn't take you for a cragsman, my bad." She shrugs back toward the arch. "Want to join me, then? Haven't gone climbing with a friend in a while - usually, it's all big groups."

"I'm not actually that good of a climber," you demur. "I mostly got the pass because I have friends who like coming here."

"Good. Now you got one more," says Jordan. Without asking permission, she takes you by the arm and pulls you to the base of the arch, your opinion on the matter neither sought nor given. "I'll spot for you. Show me what you got, Mr. Tomboy."

Flustered, you try and fail not to embarrass yourself while the intimidating blonde puts you through your paces, correcting your every mistake in technique. It's weird, but not bad - so, what, you're her friend now? Her rough exterior had you assuming she's not the type to form fast friendships, but appearances can be deceiving.

The rest of the afternoon, you spend free climbing with Jordan. And you enjoy yourself more than you have in a long, long time. Jordan is loud, driven, and surprisingly patient when you screw up. And when you fail, Jordan's presence makes you want to do better - not because she asks it of you, but because she shows you it's possible. Not to mention, she's stupidly hot in her Tomb Raider shorts and tight tank. You didn't quite notice before, but there is a serious amount of compression going on beneath her shirt.

Eventually, your arms give out, and even after a 10-minute break you can lift yourself no more. Jordan's ready to call it quits too. Her movements wear down slower than yours, but she started earlier and went harder. Honestly, if it weren't for the strange context of how the meetup began, the hours spent with the woman would be the highlight of the summer.

"This was fun," you say, wiping the sweat from your brow. The weight of your arms takes you off guard. They feel leaden, filled with sand. "I'm going to regret it tomorrow, though."

Jordan chuckles. "This is nothing. Wait till I can take you to a real rock field."

You're shocked. "Really? That'd be awesome." And she'll take you? "I've never climbed out in the wild before. It's always been gyms. I didn't want you to feel obligated, though. Are you sure?"

The woman puts you in a headlock, which you fumble to duck out of. It alarms you that even after all that climbing, Jordan can still summon so much raw physical power. "It'll be good for both of us," she says, laughing when you manage to escape her grasp. "Artificial walls are supposed to train you for the real thing, and you've been coming long enough. You get sunshine and experience, and I get some company and get to sharpen my skills showing you the ropes."

Wow. You had a good time with Jordan, but you didn't know she had that good of a time with you. Normally you have a better read on people. Here you were wracking your brain on how to make this into more than a singular chance encounter, while your ad-hoc climbing partner was already two steps ahead.

Chemistry is important, definitely, and you can't deny there's something between you and Jordan with her sort of taking you under her wing. But a direct invitation to go to a third location? And not for lunch or a cup of coffee, but for a day-long affair as involved as outdoor climbing? It's not even an invitation, really. Jordan takes it for granted you'll come.

Either you misjudged her again, or this has something to do with you being the Master Tomboy. Is she trying to impress you?

"I had fun, Jordan, and I'd like to see you again too, but we barely met," you say, holding your hands up. "I know I'm the Master Tomboy, but you don't have to go out of your way to please me. I'm a normal guy."

The climber looks at you blankly. "If you don't want to go out climbing with me, you can just say so," she says. "I knew a lot less than you did when I scaled a cliff face for the first time. If you're nervous -"

"I'm not nervous about climbing," you say, "but usually I know a person better before planning mountain excursions together."

Jordan frowns in thought. "Me too, but, feels like I know you well enough. Even if you weren't the Master Tomboy, which you are, you seem like a good egg. I had a good time. What else do I need to know? Weren't you just saying how much fun you had, too?"

"I did say that, but -"

"What, are you a criminal or something? You have an embarrassing tattoo?" Jordan shakes her head. "You can't be a day over 20. That's not enough time to become a menace to society. You're overthinking this."

Maybe you are overthinking this. You've wanted to find a way to move on from Cori for months, and here's Jordan, practically the perfect woman, showing a genuine interest in getting to know you better. Is this really about you being the Master Tomboy, or are you just looking a gift horse in the mouth? Is a part of you still hesitant to try something with somebody besides your ex-girlfriend?