Page 62 of Nothing But Air

Eden didn’t say anything. But her hand found his on the stone wall. Warm. Steady.

“I reached for him.” His voice cracked. “But I hesitated out of shock—just a second. Our hands touched, but I couldn’t grip.”

The brush of Chip’s palm. The calluses. The split second where everything hung suspended?—

“If I had just moved a second sooner. If I had moved without thinking, then?—”

“Then you could have fallen too.”

His gaze whipped to hers.

In the moonlight, her face was all soft shadows and concern. Those blue eyes steady on his—not pitying, not uncomfortable. Just…present.

“I could have saved him.”

“Maybe.” Her voice was gentle but firm. “Or maybe he would have pulled you over.”

She shifted slightly, turning toward him. Her knee brushed his.

“I’m not saying you shouldn’t have tried. But you can’t shoulder the responsibility for his actions. You can’t spend the rest of your life jumping without looking because you’re terrified of being a second too late.”

Eden’s thumb traced small circles on the back of his hand. Warmth spread up his arm. “You’re so afraid of hesitating again that you don’t let yourself think at all. You just act. Move. Take risks that don’t make sense because moving fast seems safer than slowing down.” She squeezed his hand—the pressure grounding, real. “But Teague, sometimes the brave thing isn’t moving faster. It’s pausing long enough to make the right call.”

“Like you did this morning.” The words came out rough. “When you tried to tell me I was making the wrong choice. A dumb choice.” Teague exhaled slowly. “I was too caught up with my ego. Too focused on beating Kyle. Too afraid of failing my team. But that was exactly what I ended up doing.”

“You didn’t fail us.” She turned to face him fully, pulling her knee up on the wall between them, the denim of her jeans brushing against his cargo pants. “And we know you won’t fail us out there.”

She pointed into the darkness where the canyon dropped away.

A pause. Her eyes held his.

“But even if you do get in a bind again”—she squeezed his hand tighter—“I will be there for you just like you were there for me when I froze.”

“We’re quite a pair, aren’t we?” His voice was barely above a whisper.

“Yeah.” Eden smiled—soft, real, the moonlight catching the curve of her lips. “We are.”

A breeze picked up, carrying the scent of pine and distant rain. Something electric hummed between them—possibility, maybe. Or just the awareness of how close they were. How easy it would be to close the remaining distance.

But she’d drawn a line.

And he wasn’t pushing that.

He leaned back slightly. Her hand on his squeezed tighter—like she didn’t want to let go.

“Eden.” His voice came out rough. “You’ve made it clear this isn’t what you want.”

She was quiet for a moment. Inside, applause erupted—someone had finished a song.

“I never said I didn’t want it.”

Teague’s heart stuttered.

“I said I was too afraid to open that door.”

The admission hung between them. Heavy. Honest.

Around them, the sounds from inside continued. Laughter. Applause. The opening notes of another song.