Page 121 of Nothing But Air

“I shouldn’t have said you didn’t care about protecting me.”

“Eden—”

“That wasn’t fair. You do care. I know you do.” She took a breath that shuddered on the way in. “I was hurt and scared and I lashed out.”

“I jumped that gap.” His voice was quiet. Honest. “You said I was reckless, and you were right. You said I would have done it again.” A pause. “Still would.”

“I know.” Her chest tightened. “And that terrifies me.”

“Because of Landon.”

“Because I can’t watch someone I care about destroy themselves.” Her voice cracked. “Can’t sit there waiting for the day you push too far. Can’t survive another phone call that starts with ‘I’m sorry’ and ends with everything I love being gone.”

He was quiet for a long moment. The creek babbled beside them, indifferent to the weight of the conversation.

“Marcus said something earlier.” Teague’s voice softened. “About grief making us do crazy things. Making us push away people we need.”

“Maybe Marcus is smarter than we gave him credit for.”

“He said the question isn’t whether you were right to end it.” Teague’s green eyes met hers—vulnerable in a way she’d never seen. “It’s whether I’m willing to change. To actually trust God instead of myself.”

He swallowed hard.

“I mean, I do in my head. But my actions say I’m still trusting myself, and I don’t know how to stop. But for the first time…I’m starting to believe I need to.”

The honesty in his voice made her throat tight. Made her eyes sting.

“You’re enough, Teague.” She stepped closer despite everything—despite the fear, despite knowing this was probably a mistake. “You’re more than enough. But I need you to believe that too. To believe your life is worth protecting. Not just everyone else’s.”

He moved closer still. Close enough that she could see the way his pulse beat at his throat.

“Teague—”

“I left you at that gap.” His hand came up, hovering near her face. “Made you feel like you didn’t matter. Like saving a little time was worth more, instead of…”

“Instead of what?”

His thumb brushed along her cheekbone, and Eden felt the touch everywhere. In her fingertips. In her chest. In the hollow of her throat.

“Instead of the person I can’t stop thinking about.” His voice was rough. Low. “Even when I’m supposed to be keeping watch. Even when I should be focusing on keeping everyone safe. You’re there. In my head. All the time.”

“That sounds distracting.”

“Incredibly.”

“Probably a safety hazard.”

“Definitely.” His other hand found her waist. “You’re terrible for my focus.”

“And yet here you are.”

“And yet here I am.” His eyes darkened. “We’re a mess, Eden. We’ve spent the last several hours hurt and angry and yet everything about you consumes me.”

“That’s either very romantic or very unhealthy.”

“Probably both.”

“I can work with both.”