Chapter 5 #3
“Fine.” She crossed her arms—not easy on a narrow ledge, but she managed. “I told you so.”
“There it is.”
“I told you the left route looked unstable. I told you the sandstone was fractured. But did you listen? No. Because why would Teague Hamilton listen to anyone when he could just—”
“Okay, okay.” He held up a hand, laughing despite himself. “Point made.”
“I’m not done.”
“Of course you’re not.”
“You were cocky and stubborn, and you almost got yourself injured because you couldn’t admit that maybe—just maybe—someone else might know the rock better than you.”
“I know.” All humor drained from his voice. His eyes held hers, steady and serious. “You were right. About all of it.”
The sincerity in his tone caught her off guard.
“But you called for help when you needed it.” Her voice softened. “That matters.”
“And you came.” His eyes held hers. Steady. Grateful.
“Of course.”
Her pulse hammered. The sun caught his eyes, highlighting those golden flecks, turning his auburn curls to burnished copper. A moment passed between them—gratitude, trust, respect.
And maybe something else.
Something that made her acutely aware of how little space separated them. How his chest rose and fell with each breath. How his gaze dropped briefly to her mouth before returning to her eyes.
The world below seemed very far away.
“I guess that answers my question from earlier.” Sierra’s voice carried across from where Team Two stood watching.
Right. Audience. Fantastic.
Eden turned away, started preparing their descent. Threading rope through anchor rings. Double-checking the setup. Testing the system.
Her skin still tingled where Teague’s arm had brushed hers.
“I guess this means we lost.” His voice held a touch of annoyance—directed at himself. “Sorry about that.”
“Maybe it was for the best.” Eden clipped her figure-eight to the rope. “Rescuing you unlocked something in me. I haven’t felt this alive on the rope in a long time.”
“Glad my humiliation had some purpose.” He laughed—short, self-deprecating—but his eyes said he understood.
Did he understand what he’d given her?
By being stuck. By needing rescue. By trusting her to lead when his pride must have been screaming at him to figure it out himself.
He’d forced her to prove she could still do this. That the years not climbing hadn’t erased her skills. That maybe she belonged back on the rock after all.
The rappel down was silent. Controlled. Eden fed rope through her device, walking backward down the face with the easy rhythm of a thousand descents.
When her boots touched solid ground, both teams had gathered at the base.
Noah approached with an expression that promised a lengthy conversation about safety protocols.
Joy.
But before he could start, Kyle was there.
Moving into her space. Standing too close. That cologne—woodsy and expensive—wrapping around her like something she hadn’t asked for.
“Nice work up there.” His smile was warm. His eyes were not. “Textbook rescue.”
Eden coiled her rope. “Just doing what needed to be done.”
“Still. Good to see you back in action.” Kyle’s gaze shifted to where Teague had just touched down, and something cold slid through his expression. “Way to lead, Hamilton. So much for being someone she could trust.”
Excuse me?
Eden’s hands stilled. She looked up, meeting Kyle’s eyes with an expression that made him step back.
“Teague called for help when he needed it.” Steel ran underneath her calm voice. “That’s what good leaders do.”
She wasn’t letting Kyle weaponize this. Not when Teague had admitted vulnerability in front of everyone. Had trusted her to lead. Had let his pride take a hit rather than risk safety.
That took more strength than Kyle would ever understand.
Kyle’s smile tightened. “Of course.”
He took a step back toward her, his tone shifting to something more intimate. Possessive. “So, we won. You guys are on gear cleanup tonight. But we’re still on for dinner tonight, right?”
“I need to debrief with my team.”
My team.
The words fit right. Team One. Teague’s team. Her team.
She caught Teague’s eye across the small crowd. He was getting Noah’s lecture about route assessment. But his expression when he glanced at her—gratitude mixed with respect and something warmer—made heat spread through her chest.
“You can debrief while you clean gear.” Sierra appeared at Eden’s elbow, cheeks flushed from the climb. “You promised last night. We’ve missed you, Eden. Please.”
The sincerity broke through Eden’s resistance. As much as Kyle grated on her, she did want to catch up with Sierra. And Trey.
She glanced at Teague. He was watching her again—probably had been watching this whole time. When she hesitated, he offered a slight nod.
Go. It’s okay.
She turned to Sierra. “Okay. Dinner. I can’t wait to hear all the gossip from Willow Springs.”
“And I can’t wait to hear all the gossip about you and Mr. Yummy over there.” Sierra wiggled her eyebrows. “Because I don’t care what you say—you like him.”
She walked off toward her abandoned gear, leaving Eden’s gaze to dart toward Teague.
He was no longer looking at her. But with the slight smirk that tugged at the corner of his mouth, there was no doubt he’d heard.
Perfect.
Eden finished coiling her rope. Around her, both teams packed up gear—racking cams and quickdraws, organizing ropes. The competitive energy from earlier had dissolved into quiet exhaustion.
But Eden didn’t feel exhausted.
She felt energized. Focused. Like a part of herself that had been sleeping had finally woken up.
“Rest up. You’ll all be taking off bright and early with your team tomorrow morning.”
Back into technical terrain. The kind of routes where mistakes could be fatal. And Marcus kept his secrets locked behind that guarded expression.
But for the first time in a long time, Eden wasn’t afraid of the challenge.
She was ready for it.