Page 47 of Nothing But Air

The problem-solving. The way rock presented puzzles requiring both physical skill and mental calculation. The satisfaction of finding the right sequence.

She’d forgotten how good it felt to trust her own judgment.

“Watch your right foot—that hold’s smaller than it looks at first. Weight it on the inside edge.”

Teague adjusted his placement, testing carefully before committing. “How’d you know?”

“The shape. See how it’s angled? Smaller holds with uneven edges tend to be more stable on one side. Test it and you’ll feel what I mean.”

“You’re kind of scary good at this.”

“Kind of?” She allowed herself a small smile. “I’m extremely scary good at this.”

He laughed—a short, surprised sound that echoed off the canyon walls. “There she is.”

Something warm bloomed in her chest at those words.

There she is.

Like he’d been waiting for her to show up. Like he’d known she was in there somewhere.

Five minutes later, Teague stood beside her on the narrow ledge.

Eden clipped him into her anchor with a satisfying snap of the locking carabiner. Her hands vibrated—not from exertion, but from adrenaline finally bleeding away. The warmth of sunbaked stone beneath her fingers grounded her.

She’d done it.

She straightened to her full height, and he was right there. Close enough that she could see exhaustion and embarrassment etched into his features. Close enough to feel heat radiating off his skin. Close enough to count the flecks of gold in his green eyes.

“You good?” Her words came out just above a whisper.

“No.” He didn’t soften it. Didn’t make excuses. “I screwed up.”

“Yeah.” She met his gaze. “You did.”

“Say it.”

“Say what?”

“You know what.” A hint of that familiar humor flickered in his eyes despite the situation.

Eden pressed her lips together, fighting a smile. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Eden.”

“Fine.” She crossed her arms—not easy on a narrow ledge, but she managed. “I told you so.”

“There it is.”

“I told you the left route looked unstable. I told you the sandstone was fractured. But did you listen? No. Because why would Teague Hamilton listen to anyone when he could just?—”

“Okay, okay.” He held up a hand, laughing despite himself. “Point made.”

“I’m not done.”

“Of course you’re not.”

“You were cocky and stubborn, and you almost got yourself injured because you couldn’t admit that maybe—just maybe—someone else might know the rock better than you.”