Page 66 of Nothing But Air

Eden glanced back at Teague, who was working through the bridge now, his eyes closing for a moment as he concentrated on the notes. The light caught the strong line of his jaw, the way his shoulders moved with the music.

“Well, he’d better be good to my girl.” Sierra crossed her arms, but warmth softened her voice.

“Oh, I think he plans to be very good to her.” Xander’s smile came easy, his gaze bounced between her and Sierra. “I haven’t known Teague Hamilton long, but I’ve already learned—when he sets his mind on something, he goes full tilt. No half measures.”

Eden’s mind snagged on the words.

Full tilt.

They should have been reassuring. Instead, they sent a thread of panic weaving through her joy.

The man didn’t know how to do anything halfway. He probably flossed with the same intensity he brought to search and rescue missions.

But full tilt also meant a spectacular crash when things went wrong. And she’d already lived through that kind of devastation once.

Landon had loved her fully too. Had given her everything—his heart, his future, his whole self. And when he was gone, the void he left had been big enough to swallow her whole. She’d nearly drowned in it. Had spent two years clawing her way back to the surface.

The whisper of doubt crept in even as Teague sang, even as the pull toward him grew stronger with every note.

This could end very badly.

Loving someone with that kind of intensity meant the loss would be equally intense if it fell apart. If something happened. If he took one too many risks and the canyon finally won.

Sierra’s voice cut through her spiraling thoughts. “Hey.” Sharp. Knowing. “I see that look. Stop overthinking.”

Eden’s gaze snapped to her friend.

“I know you’re scared.” Sierra’s pale-green eyes held hers. “But look at him. He’s terrified too. You think getting up there and basically declaring his feelings in song form isn’t scary? Especially when he can’t actually sing?” A wry smile. “But he’s doing it anyway.”

Eden watched Teague navigate the bridge, his voice catching on one of the higher notes before he found his footing again. When his eyes opened, they found hers immediately.

Like she was magnetic north.

Like he couldn’t help but orient himself toward her.

Sierra continued, her voice gentle but firm. “You’re already braver than you think, Eden. You signed up for this team. You climbed. You’re sitting here right now instead of running.”

Something bloomed in Eden’s chest. Warm and terrifying and wonderful all at once.

She wanted to be brave like Sierra. She wanted to be the kind of person who jumped even when the landing wasn’t guaranteed. Who trusted that even if she fell, she’d survive it.

She had survived losing Landon. It had nearly killed her—had come closer than anyone knew—but she was still here. Still breathing. Still capable of something other than grief.

Still capable of feeling this.

The song wound down now, and Teague gave it everything he had. His voice cracked slightly on the final chorus, but he pushed through, that grin never leaving his face. The lodge held its breath as he hit the last note—a little flat, but full of heart.

Full of hope.

The whole room erupted.

Applause and whistles and stomping feet. Someone whooped from the back. Someone else demanded an encore. Teague laughed and shook his head and set the microphone back in its stand, but his eyes?—

His eyes never left Eden’s face.

And in that moment, watching him glow with the pure joy of having done something terrifying and survived it, Eden made a decision.

Maybe the risk was worth the reward.