Page 82 of Nothing But Air

But it might as well have been Everest.

“You’re overthinking it.” Teague’s voice came from beside her—patient and steady despite the bruises hidden beneath his shirt.

“I know.” Eden stared up at the wall. Her breath came shorter than it should. The familiar pre-climb focus she used to find so easily kept slipping away, replaced by flashes of Teague’s body pitching backward. The sickening sound of the cam ripping free. The thud when he hit the wall.

Her fault.

All of it.

“Eden.” Teague moved closer, his green eyes finding hers. “Breathe.”

“I am breathing.”

“You’re hyperventilating.”

But her chest was tight. Constricted. The edges of her vision started to blur.

She couldn’t do this.

What had she been thinking? She’d quit climbing for a reason. She’d walked away because everyone she tried to protect ended up?—

“Hey.” Teague’s hands found her shoulders. Warm. Solid. Grounding. “Look at me.”

She forced her eyes to focus on his face. The scruff along his jaw. The concern pulling at his mouth. The intensity in his gaze—those green eyes with their flecks of gold, anchoring her when everything else was spinning.

“You’re panicking. Breathe with me.” His voice was calm. “In through your nose.” He demonstrated, his chest expanding slowly. “Out through your mouth.”

Eden tried to follow, but her breath hitched halfway through.

“Again. With me.”

Teague breathed in—slow, measured—and she matched him. In through her nose. The scent of dust and sage and warm stone. Out through her mouth.

The bands around her chest loosened. Slightly.

“That’s it.”

They breathed together, his hands firm on her shoulders, until the panic receded enough for her to think clearly.

“I don’t think I can do this.” The words came out barely above a whisper.

“You can.” Teague leaned closer—close enough that she could smell the limestone dust clinging to his shirt. “But I need you here with me. Not up in your head.”

“Teague—”

He pressed his forehead to hers.

The contact was gentle, grounding. His skin was warm, slightly damp from the early evening heat, and she registered his breath against her face. Calm. Even. Real.

“You’re not alone in this,” he said quietly. “I’m right here.”

Eden closed her eyes. She focused on the point of contact between them. On his regular breathing. On his presence cutting through the cold fear.

Slowly, the trembling through her body began to ease.

After a long moment, Teague pulled back. He took her hand and pressed it flat against the rock face beside them.

The stone was still warm from the sun. Textured and solid under her palm.