Page 100 of Nothing But Air

“Eden and Xander are coming the long way around,” he told Kyle. “Watch for them.”

He turned back to Liam.

His ribs throbbed. His hands shook. Fear sat like lead in his stomach.

He couldn’t lose him.

Wouldn’t lose him.

Not like Chip.

Never again like Chip.

Eden stumbled into camp with burning lungs, trembling legs, and a growing list of things she wanted to say to Teague Hamilton.

None of them were nice.

The fire flickered against the darkness. Sleeping bags dotted the stone. Then she spotted him. He knelt beside Liam’s still form—calm, capable, completely focused on the injured man. He stood when he saw her. “Eden?—”

“Not now.” So maybe that list would have to wait until she was not so angry.

Because right now, all she could manage was two words. Two words and the growing certainty that whatever this was between them, it was over. All in? She’d been a fool to think that was possible.

Teague had left her behind to sprint toward a seven-foot gap over a two-hundred-foot drop.

He’d actually left her.

Her chest cracked open—the same way it had when Landon walked out that door. Unwilling to listen. Unwilling to wait. Unwilling to put her above the climb.

Different circumstances. Same reality.

She wasn’t worth making a priority.

It wasn’t just that he’d left. She was a big girl—she could handle that. But he’d ignored her concern, ignored basic safety, shut her out, and told Xander to take her the long way like she was a burden.

He hadn’t even acknowledged what it would cost her to watch him jump.

Hadn’t cared that she’d have to stand there—helpless, frozen, screaming inside—and watch him die if something went wrong.

That was acceptable for a team leader making tactical decisions.

Not acceptable for someone who’d kissed her just hours ago like she was the only thing in the world that mattered.

She’d been a fool to think he’d be different.

“Xander.” Teague turned toward the tall ranger, who was already pulling out medical supplies. “I need to hike out. Get to base camp, call for that helicopter?—”

And he was leaving again. Without even a conversation.

“I’ll hike out.” Xander checked his watch. “The South Rim is closer, and I know those trails better. They need you.” His gaze flicked to Eden—pointed, deliberate—as if Teague needed reminding. “If I hurry, I can make it just after midnight.”

Teague looked at Eden then. Swallowed. Nodded. Something like apology flickered across his face.

But what girl wanted the guy she’d fallen for to need reminding that she was there? That she mattered?

“Go fast. But go safe.” Teague gripped Xander’s shoulder. “We need that evac.”

Xander nodded, shouldered his pack, and disappeared into the darkness. His headlamp bobbed as he moved at a steady jog toward a trail that wound the opposite direction from the way they’d come.