Page 18 of Nothing But Air

He held her gaze for a long moment. Then nodded.

“For what it’s worth,” he said quietly, “I don’t think you’re done. I think you’re scared. And I think there’s a difference.”

He let himself out. The door clicked shut, and the silence rushed back in—heavier than before.

Her phone buzzed.

Mara

We are SO not done talking about this.

Eden tossed the phone on her bed and returned to the pull-up bar.

Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen.

Her arms burned. Her palms stung. But physical pain was easier than the questions ricocheting through her skull.

Teague had seen through her. If he’d noticed, who else had?

Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen.

The park was closing. Her job, as it had been, was ending. And Eden didn’t know if she was strong enough to hang on?—

Or brave enough to finally let go.

Three

Two days of silence, and Eden still wouldn’t look at him.

Teague leaned against the back wall of the conference room, arms crossed, watching the back of her head three rows up. She sat perfectly still—posture erect, hands folded in her lap. Professional. Contained. Everything she’d been since he’d walked out of her cabin and she’d made it crystal clear where she stood.

I’m done letting myself care about people who do.

The words had kept him up two nights running, replaying every time he closed his eyes. He was reckless. Dangerous. Someone who chased adrenaline without counting the cost.

And she wanted no part of it.

Or him.

The part that gutted him? Knowing why.

Her fiancé had died climbing. When she’d said it—voice brittle, eyes bright—something in Teague had wanted to pull her into his arms. Tell her he understood that kind of loss. That kind of guilt that followed you everywhere, that wrapped around your chest in the dark and squeezed until you couldn’t breathe.

But it wasn’t his place.

Would never be his place, apparently.

Eden’s head turned slightly. As if she could feel his stare burning into the back of her skull.

Their eyes met for half a second.

Then she looked away. Her shoulders tensed.

Yeah. Two days hadn’t made it any less awkward.

“Thanks for coming.” Virgil moved to the front of the room, his voice cutting through the low murmur of conversation. “First, congratulations on getting it done. You all stepped up, and now the park is officially closed, trails blocked, and jobs have been reassigned. I know many of you are as anxious as I am to get the park back open. You may think we haven’t taken the idea of finding the third chest of gold seriously, but nothing could be further from the truth. However, we wanted to approach the search with focus and planning. And with the removal of the tourists, we can work on a timeline that is purposeful but not emergency status.”

Virgil nodded to someone in the front row. “Which brings me to the introduction of Marcus Roosevelt.”