She wasn’t going back to her knot tonight. It was the first time she’d ever contemplated sleeping without them.

As she weaved between the tables, Romy saw Atlas’s office door was ajar, and a thin stream of light filtered outside into the darkness of the entranceway. She could just glimpse the door to the surgery, and to Tina’s room, while the locked room was shrouded in shadows.

Her heart beat loudly in her ears and she placed a palm on his door. It opened with a soft creak and she saw him at the window, his face expressionless.

He’d watched her cross the clearing.

“It’s not safe to wander around at night.” His tone was bland.

“I wanted to see you.”

He didn’t turn from the window. “I wonder at your self-preservation sometimes.” He was angry.

“Should a space soldier possess self-preservation?”

A ghost of a smile hinted on his face. Then it faded. “You’re no longer a space soldier.”

“No.” She rested her head against the frame. “I guess not.” She didn’t know if she even had a knot anymore.

Atlas didn’t respond. She didn’t know if he’d heard.

“Is Tina okay?” she asked.

Atlas finally turned to her. “Right now, she’s fine. Tomorrow she’ll have the hangover of her life.”

“Oh.”

His lips curled. “Oh? And should I ask if things were resolved between you and the boy?”

She frowned. “Don’t called Thrym a boy. And . . . I’m not sure.”

Atlas halted. “And that means?”

Romy looked at her shoes. “It means he told me a few things. And then . . . kissed me. And I’m not sure if we’re friends anymore.”

“Ah.” A thumb brushed across her cheek, catching an escaped tear. “I saw.”

Heat stole through her face. “You did?” He’d seen the whole thing? And after she’d been so adamant nothing was happening between her and Thrym.

His jaw ticked. “These things happen to us all. Unrequited love. He’s young; he’ll get over it. And you will be friends still.”

Romy sighed and stepped forwards into his warmth. “I hope so.”

His arms enclosed her. “And you are beyond tired. Things will present more clearly after you rest.”

She shivered as his hot skin brushed against hers. “Wise Atlas?” she murmured.

“More-Earth-experience Atlas,” he said. “I’ve, uh, had a few relationships. And someone close to me always says sleep makes things better.”

“A friend?” She pressed closer still, wrapping her arms around him, feeling the firmness of the muscles in his back as she did so.

“. . . My mother.”

She pulled back and saw his mouth had pressed into a thin line. Her curiosity would drive her mad, but the look on Atlas’s face told her he wouldn’t open up any more. “I don’t want to go back to my bungalow,” Romy said instead.