“Bye mister Weston!” Fin yells, as he jumps up, running to wrap his arms around Weston’s legs and squeezing them tightly. Weston finally pulls his gaze away, his chin dipping to look down at Fin as he rustles his hair. My chest tightens at the movement, and I take a deep breath to clear it before Fin is sprinting back to my side, plopping back down with his books.
I set my cards down in front of me and spin so I’m facing him.
“You’ve never had a shift before.” It’s not a question, but he answers what he knows I’m asking.
“Veck took over for me,” he says, nodding toward where Veck sits across the room.
“But now he’s back!” Jorn cheers, shaking Weston by both his shoulders. He lets out a loud crow, then steps around him, closing the space between him and Sig, and dropping down to plant a quick kiss on her lips.
“Let’s go!” he yells, before turning and running up the stairs.
Weston plants his boot on the first step, but pauses. His eyes catch mine and one corner of his lips turns up.
“Don’t wait up for me, princess.”
My skin is on fire as I hold his gaze for a moment too long; long enough for his smirk to deepen and laughter to sparkle in his eyes. He turns away and jogs up the steps, leaving me staring after him.
What was that?
Was Westonjokingwith me? Does he know I suspect he stays awake every night when I’m out on shift, pretending to be asleep and only relaxing as soon as I am locked back in the room? And why were his words laced with challenge?
I’m still staring at the now empty space where he just stood when Stassia breaks my daze.
“Whew! I need to go up to the main deck to cool off because that was hot.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I mutter, spinning back around and picking up my cards. I stare down at them, hoping my face doesn’t give away the fire that is still smoldering under the surface. Shuffling the cards in my hand, I wait for Auralie to take her turn.
“That eye contact,” Stassia says, fanning herself with her cards. “What I wouldn’t give to have a man look at me like that.”
“There was no look. You must be seeing things,” I say as Auralie sets down one of her cards with a giggle. Stassia stares at me, eyes wide and mouth open in an exaggerated look of disbelief.
“I can see your hand, Stass,” I say, as she slams her mouth shut, pulling her cards to her chest.
I smile down at my hand. This is the first time I’ve rendered Stass speechless, and it feels better than winning a spar in the ring back home. Movement catches my eye, and I look over to see Sig smiling at me. I assume I’m going to have to defend myself again about whatever that was, when I realize that’s not why she’s smiling.
I used Stassia’s nickname without thinking, and it felt normal.
Easy.
Shaking my head, I try to push away the guilt I have actually been happy amongst everyone here, and focus on the game. We play a few more rounds until most of us are yawning, and Fin lies sprawled out across the floor at my side, softly snoring. Sig and I wake him just enough to walk him to his bed and get him tucked in, since Weston isn’t here to do it before everyone disperses for the night.
Once I’m back in the room, it’s as if all of my drowsiness disappears and restlessness takes its place.
The room feels…empty.
I haven’t slept alone since they let me out of the brig, and while I should be overjoyed that Weston is gone, it doesn’t feel right, even though I know I shouldn’t care.
I shouldn’t be thinking about being alone here. I shouldn’t be thinking about falling asleep without his steady breathing on the other side of the bed.
It shouldn’t feel like this.
My sigh comes out more like a huff, and I walk to my side of the bed, changing quickly before sliding between the sheets. The desire to glance over to his empty space pricks at me, so I stare at the wooden ceiling as the flames in the sconces dim around me, casting the room into darkness, ready for sleep.
But sleep doesn’t come. My mind won’t stop cycling through, trying to decipher everything that has happened tonight.
You’re just pretending to be close to them, Lennox. You aren’t actually close.
I repeat the words in my head as I stare at the dark ceiling, listening to the lap of the water against the ship, but the more they cycle through my mind, the more it feels like I’m not only lying to all of them.
