Page 50 of Nothing But Air

I need you.

He’d actually said that. Out loud. On the radio. Where everyone could hear.

Teague sat on the edge of his bunk, elbows braced on his knees, running the morning’s disaster through his mind for the hundredth time. The loose rock grinding beneath his foot. His fingers scraping against stone that crumbled like stale bread. The moment his weight had shifted and he’d known—known—he was stuck.

All the choices he should have made differently.

All the ways he’d proved Eden right about his jump-first, think-second approach to life.

The cabin was just one room with two bunks built into opposite walls, rough-hewn pine that still smelled faintly of sawdust. A small woodstove squatted in the corner, its cast-iron bulk making the space even more cramped. A narrow window pointed toward the other staff cabins clustered among the ponderosa pines. The lodge in the distance on the edge of the canyon.

His climbing gear lay in a heap by the door. Two hours of checking every carabiner, every rope, every piece of protection while his team worked in near silence around him.

They’d been kind about it.

Too kind.

Which somehow made it worse.

“Quit beating yourself up.” Liam emerged from the tiny bathroom, towel-drying his dark hair. Water droplets clung to his shoulders, catching the light. “It could happen to anyone.”

“And yet it happened to me.”

“That’s how probability works, Hamilton. Someone has to be the statistic.”

“Thanks. That’s very comforting.”

“I’m a comforting guy.” Liam tossed the towel onto his bunk and reached for a clean shirt. “Ask Nimue. She finds me extremely comforting.”

“I’m not asking Nimue anything about how she finds you.”

Liam grinned. “Fair enough.” He pulled the shirt over his head. “Point is, you’re a far better climber than I am, and we both know it. One bad route doesn’t change that.”

Teague stood and moved to the window. From here he could just see the dining hall—warm light spilling from its windows, people wandering that direction from all over the grounds.

“Now Eden,” Liam continued, “I think she might have us both beat.”

The words landed with unexpected weight.

Teague watched a condor circle in the distance over the canyon, riding the thermals. “She’s good all right.”

“Good? She made that rescue climb look like a Sunday stroll. How are her friends? Sierra and that other guy—Trey?”

“Capable. But they don’t read rock like she does.”

“It’s like she was born to climb. Which begs the question—why has she been sitting behind the radio all summer?” Liam opened and shut a drawer behind him.

Teague kept his eyes on the world outside. He had the answer to that. But it wasn’t his story to tell.

“So why did you do it?” Liam sat on his bunk and started lacing his boots. “Choose that path? Deep down, you had to know it would be less stable.”

Teague’s fingers curled against the windowsill. “I don’t know. I thought if I moved fast enough, then maybe…I do know that I wanted to beat Kyle.” The admission tasted bitter. “Impress Eden.” A pause. “Failed spectacularly at both.”

“Well, you definitely made an impression. Just not in the way you intended.”

“You’re hilarious.”

“I really am.” Liam tied off one boot, started on the other. “Maybe you should move Eden to my team.”