I take a swift step away and look off to the side, hoping my thoughts are not written all over my face. He sways and reaches out for my shoulders, steadying himself again, and I can feel his gaze searing into my face. I can’t help but look up then, just as a pained look crosses his face and he pins his stare to the ground.
His voice lowers to a grumble. “I really don’t want to ask for this, princess.” He pauses, my mind wandering to all the possibilities of what his request could be.
“Will you help me with my boots? Please? If I try, I’ll fall over. Or be sick. And I don’t want to do either.”
I chuckle at his vulnerability. I don’t think Weston is used to asking for help from anyone. He’s the captain, the strength for the crew. Asking for help probably doesn’t occur often, especially in the state he’s in.
“I should make you do it yourself as punishment,” I say with a smirk. “That’s what you get for drinking too much.”
“It was necessary,” he mumbles, and I feel a pang in my chest. My smile drops and I tilt my head so he can’t see it before crouching down and pulling at the laces of his boots.
“You’re not going to make some snide comment about me kneeling for you, are you?”
“I would never say something like that to you,” he says, then chuckles. “Jorn might, but I’d kick his ass for it later.”
“You didn’t have a problem making a crude joke toward me before,” I say.
It seems so long ago now, back when I wanted to hurt him in training, especially after making that comment in front of the crew about my dream. Not that anyone would know what he meant except for the two of us.
He winces, the drink making it so he can’t hide it as well as he usually does.
“I shouldn’t have said that. I was…distracted.”
His voice seems sincere again, and I don’t want to go further into it. Bringing it up already stirred up too many unwanted feelings that are just making our closeness worse.
I stand again and step out of his way. He keeps his pants on, sticking with his exception to the rule for tonight, and shuffles forward. He falls onto the bed, kicking his boots off behind him before spinning on his stomach toward his pillow. A deep sigh escapes him and his eyes flutter closed as his entire body relaxes, the tension in his bare shoulders loosening and the creases in his forehead disappearing.
“Thank you,” he murmurs.
“Anytime, Captain,” I mutter back, my feet stuck to this spot. He breathes heavily for a moment, and I tear my eyes away from him, bending to push his clothes out of the way so he doesn’t trip if he gets up in the night. Just as I’m about to stand, he mumbles softly.
“You’re going to ruin me.”
My head whips toward him, but before I can respond, he’s already deeply asleep and snoring softly. His arm dangles overthe side of the bed, his demanding and crushing lips now soft and parted slightly.
It won’t happen again.
I gulp down the disappointment and embarrassment and focus on finishing my task of making sure we still have a captain in the morning. Reaching down, I grab his arm to tuck it up under the pillow, and my eyes catch on the gold ring I saw before. After that night, my first attempt at escaping the ship, I never paid it any mind again, but now, after knowing his story, that he came to Dawnlin for a woman, I wonder if that is where this ring came from. It isn’t a wedding ring, but maybe a promise ring?
But if he’s promised to her, why is he kissing me?
His arm is dead weight as I lift, and something catches my eye.
I lean in, looking closely at his limp fingers, and notice the ring isn’t the same size all the way around. The band changes shape as it disappears under his finger. I bite my lip, feeling like I shouldn’t look, but my curiosity wins.
With a quick glance at his face to make sure he hasn’t woken to my touch, I reach out and spin the ring, exposing the other side. The gold band expands into a wide, circular plane, and my eyes catch on the design pressed into it.
I almost drop his hand.
My breaths become shallow and ragged, and my head feels light and unsteady. Slowly, I set his hand beside his face, gentle enough that he doesn’t stir. I back away quickly, unable to take my eyes off of the ring, even from far away. Throwing my hands to my head, I try to suck in deep breaths and calm the erratic beating of my heart and churning of my stomach.
I knew he was hiding something, but I didn’t know what. My gut told me he had secrets, and I’d just discovered one. He’sworn that ring facing in since I stepped foot on this ship so I wouldn’t see it, wouldn’t catch him in his lies.
My mind reels as I try to fit this new piece of information into the world around me, but I have no idea what it means.
I need answers now more than ever.
My feet have a mind of their own, and I pace the length of the room, glancing back every so often to make sure the noise hasn’t woken him. I could wake him, demand he tell me what it means, and with the state he’s in, I doubt he’d be able to effectively lie to me.
