Page 64 of Nothing But Air

Her own words from a few minutes ago crashed over her. I never said I didn’t want it. I said I was too afraid to open that door.

Her breathing quickened as she settled her hands in her lap. Everything faded to background noise—the clink of glasses, the murmur of conversation, the scrape of chairs. All of it dissolved until there was nothing but Teague and the song.

The backup track gave way to Teague’s voice—a little flat on some of the notes, rougher and less polished than the original. But somehow that made it more real. More his.

More brave.

Sierra gripped Eden’s arm, her fingers tight with excitement. “Eden.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “He’s singing this for you.”

Eden couldn’t speak.

Couldn’t do anything but stare as Teague’s gaze found hers across the room and held. The soft glow of the pendant lights caught his curls and turned them to copper and gold. His green eyes—those impossible green eyes with their flecks of gold—locked on her face.

And the message was clear.

He wasn’t demanding anything. But he wasn’t hiding how he felt anymore either. And if she would trust him—take a chance on him—he was there for it.

All of it.

She had no doubt that Teague’s love would be patient. Kind. Would never rush. Would always be there to catch her if she chose to jump.

Her heart hammered against her ribs—so hard she wondered if Sierra could sense it through their touching shoulders. This was all for her. Right here, in front of everyone—friends, coworkers, and strangers alike—he was laying it out. He was being vulnerable when she’d given him nothing but walls and fear.

He hit a note slightly off-key.

Eden’s chest tightened.

He hated this. She knew he hated this. She’d watched him dodge every single person who’d tried to drag him up there tonight—Nimue, then Liam, then some volunteer whose name she didn’t know. He’d refused them all with that disarming smile and stubborn set to his jaw.

But here he was anyway.

He was doing the thing that terrified him just to send her a message.

Sierra’s voice gentled beside her. “You okay?”

“I don’t know.” Eden’s whisper barely carried over the music.

She’d spent a long time terrified of this exact moment. Terrified that opening herself up meant inviting in the kind of pain that had nearly destroyed her when she lost Landon. That loving someone meant giving them the power to shatter you completely.

She’d seen what happened when the anchor failed. Had known that gaping, bottomless void that swallowed everything good and left nothing but ashes.

But yesterday, when she and Teague had gone climbing, she’d been brave.

She’d clipped into that first bolt with shaking hands and pushed past the fear. Trusted the gear. Trusted her body. Trusted that she could do this thing she’d thought she’d lost forever.

And today, she hadn’t just trusted her gear—she’d trusted her instincts. She had remembered what it was like to solve problems and be brave enough to execute the solution. To lead. To rescue. To matter.

Maybe she could be brave here too.

Sierra leaned closer, as if reading her mind. “You were amazing when you climbed today. Scared out of your mind, but you did it anyway.”

Eden watched Teague on that makeshift stage—this man who’d hung out of a helicopter, who’d leaped eight feet to a four-inch hold to rescue someone he didn’t even know. This man who faced death like it was just another problem to solve.

He was taking a risk right now.

Only this time, for her.

He was putting his heart out there where she could reject it. Ignore it. Trample it beneath her boots and walk away.