Full Steam Ahead (Sea Swept #1) (6 page)

Fortunately, he abandons his beer without protest and I wedge us into the crowd so we have no choice but to press against each other. Before I lose my nerve, I plant my palm on Jace’s hip, drawing us even closer. We both move to the beat, and I bring his hand to my waist. He looks down at me, amusement on his lips as he bends his head down to my ear.

“I thought we weren’t allowed to hit on each other,” he says as the club lights whirl. “That’s one of your rules, remember?”

“You’re
not allowed to hit on
me
. I never said anything about what I’m allowed to do, and …” My mind is too scattered to finish, so I put a hand on each side of his face and kiss him.

The room stops spinning for a moment. Jace’s mouth is soft, much softer than I’d have thought given the roughness of his jaw under my fingertips. He doesn’t move for a heartbeat, and it’s like we exist in a quiet little bubble outside of this dance floor, outside of time.
 

But he pulls away from me. “What’s gotten into you?” He breathes, our mouths only inches apart. “I thought—”

I kiss him again. I need to forget about those emails, forget about my parents, forget about Hunter and Kelsey. I need to lose myself tonight, and Jace hooks up with lots of girls, so I’m sure he’ll know how to take my mind off of my problems. I’ve seen how he looks at me, so I know he’s interested. We’ll have some fun, and both get what we want.

My tongue traces along Jace’s mouth and then I gently bite his bottom lip, tugging it teasingly. I dip my thumbs into the waistband of his jeans and feel the warm flesh of his stomach, so hard and smooth. I moan before I can stop myself.
 

Whatever I’m doing must be working, because Jace starts to kiss me back. His hands settle at my waist, trailing down toward my hips. Our kiss deepens and his tongue circles around mine, once, twice. Soft as a whisper. I’m lost in a rush of feeling, and I wrap my arms around his neck to draw him closer. I
need
him closer.
 

I push us toward the outskirts of the room.

The lights move dizzyingly in the dark, and the music throbs through my limbs. Jace and I reach an empty spot by the wall. Here, we’re hidden from the dance floor by a tall potted fern decorated with white twinkling lights. The tiny lights reflect in Jace’s eyes, which take me in hungrily.
 

His hands move over my tank top to the bare skin of my shoulders, and I shiver as heat spikes through my limbs. My own fingers roam across his skin eagerly: his waist, his back, across his hard stomach that tightens at my touch … It has the temperature of a fever.
 

Jace dips his head to kiss my neck, and those dangerous lips make my whole body tingle. My thoughts go wild as I imagine him kissing down my belly, past my hips, and lower still. For a while we are a whirlwind, hot and spinning, and I haven’t felt so alive in months. Maybe years. I can’t help but think that it never felt like this with Hunter—this heat, this need. Not even when we first started dating.
 

I had no idea what I was missing.
 

And I don’t want it to stop.
 

As Jace’s breath traces over my collarbone, my hands drift toward his waistband. I drive my hips against his, and he groans into my throat. But when I reach for his belt buckle, he clamps his hands over mine, stopping me.
 

“Hold on. We’re in public, Georgie.” He’s breathing hard.

“It’s Georgia,” I mumble, and trail a line of kisses along his collarbone.

Jace takes my shoulders and sets me a little bit away from him. “You didn’t want anything to do with me earlier today. What’s going on?”
 

My skin yearns for the heat to return. Why did he have to pull away?
 

“Can’t a grill change a mind?” I say, then frown. That wasn’t right. “Girl.” Ha, I said grill. I grin. “Can’t a
girl
change her …” I trail off, forgetting what I was going to say. “Whatever. Come here. I want to be a notch.”

“A notch?”
 

“On your post.” Which, I realize, could be taken a couple different ways. My hand slides down to the front of his pants as I grin again. “This post.”

Jace inhales sharply, and I feel him respond. He swears under his breath, then says, “You’re drunk.”
 

It’s not a question, but I answer anyway. “I know. Thank God.” I pull his head close to mine and say very seriously. “Otherwise I think I’d cry.” Now, touching him, the guilt and shame and fear can’t get me. I’m immune, for once. I’m not a zombie right now.

“Cry?” Jace’s gaze narrows. “About what?”

“About everything.”
Obviously.

“About Hunter?”

“Not him. This wasn’t his fault. It’s my fault. I screwed it all up.”

“Your relationship, you mean.”

“No,
everything
.” I lean up and kiss him softly. “No more talking. I want this.” My hands sweep across his arms, his deliciously broad shoulders. God, I really do want this. “Come on, Jace, you weren’t complaining a minute ago.”
 

Jace bends down, and then— “Oof!” He’s picked me up in his arms and is carrying me in long strides out of the club. He doesn’t stop until we step inside an elevator and the doors close. By then, my surprise has ebbed enough that I finally find my voice.
 

“Hey, put me down!” I try to wriggle free but his arms are like manacles and my head goes dizzy every time I move too much.
 

“Shut up, Georgie,” he grunts as the elevator chimes at our floor. He strides down the hall, swipes the key card, and thrusts our door open. Still balancing me in his arms, he fumbles for the light switch before dropping me onto the mattress. And it’s not in a very romantic way at all. I try to sit up, but Jace shakes his head.
 

“Go to sleep. I’ll see you later.” He heads for the door.

“Where are you going?” My throat tightens with humiliation. I threw myself at Jace; why doesn’t he—man-whore extraordinaire—want me?

“Out. You’ll thank me in the morning.”
 

Before I can protest, he switches off the light and is gone. The room is lit only by a dim nightlight on one wall, and I’m alone. Alone except for … I lurch off the bed and grab the towel pig from the dresser, but stumble and drop him. He comes apart, turning into just another white towel. I’ve ruined him. And I’m not sure what has happened with Jace, but somehow I ruined that too. I’ve messed up everything.

Again.
 

I hug the towel as my head pounds and the ceiling spins above me. Drawing my knees to my chest, I curl up in bed. The weight of this day brings tears to my eyes. I only wanted a night away from all of the worries and the pain, but I guess even that was too much to ask for.
 

At least there’s one’s here to watch me fall apart, to see my carefully crafted façade break into pieces. It’s safer that way.

But right now I don’t feel safe at all.

Chapter 6

Georgia

In the morning, my head is a train wreck—and I’m not even talking about my hair, which isn’t pretty either. Huddled in a booth at one end of the ship’s cafeteria, I groan over my coffee. Normally I prefer to sleep off a hangover, but when I woke, mouth desert-dry and temples pounding, to see Jace sleeping three feet away, I hurriedly changed and got out of there as fast as I could. I wonder whether the cruise ship staff will let me nap in one of these booths.

“Wow, you look as awful as I feel.” Yasmin plops down into the seat across from me. Clad in our sorority t-shirt, leggings, and big sunglasses, she sets a coffee mug and a plate of pastries on the table between us.

“Gee, thanks,” I croak.

“Good thing I came prepared for this trip.” Fishing in her bag, she comes up with a bottle of aspirin and slides it across to me.

“I owe you one.” I grab the bottle like it’s a treasure, and can’t swallow the two pills fast enough. “Remind me to never drink that much again.”
 

“We’re on vacation. We’re allowed to get a little drunk.”
 

“A
little
drunk?”

Yasmin laughs, then winces and rubs her temples. “Fine, we were a
lot
drunk. But it was totally worth it, because …” She trails off, and through my headache I frown.
 

“Because?”
 

“Because I got to make out with Austin.” I get the feeling that wasn’t what she’d been about to say, but before I can say anything she picks up a croissant and takes a huge bite. “What time did you crash?” she says through her mouthful.

My face feels hot. Now that I’m sober, I
really
wish I’d stayed in my room last night, immersed in zombies instead of drinking my problems away. Or trying.

“Don’t know. I …” I don’t want to tell her I made out with Jace, but who knows who saw me kiss him on the dance floor? Someone must have. “I kissed Jace,” I admit in a rush.

“Georgia!” That’s gotten Yasmin’s attention. Taking off her sunglasses, she squints at me in alarm. “Did you—”

“No, we didn’t hook up.”

“Really? Thank goodness. Because Jace will hook up with anything female.”

“Apparently not.” That comes out a little more sour than I’d intended, and Yasmin raises a brow. “Not that I wanted too; I’m only embarrassed. I was wasted, and Jace took me back to the room.” I mumble the next part. “I woke up with all my clothes on, drooling on my pillow. I don’t think I can face him ever again.”

“Aw, you’ll be okay. Like Jace has any room to be embarrassed. Pete told me that Jace got kicked out of a strip club last semester because he fell asleep after hooking up with one of the girls. In the manager’s office.”

I’d heard that rumor too. It’s hard to reconcile the guy from the wild tales with the Jace from last night, who admired paintings and refused me when I threw myself at him. I’m annoyed to realize that his rejection stings. Back at school, he’ll hook up with any girl who bats her eyes, but for some reason he wouldn’t cross that line with me. My rational mind knows he did me a favor because I was drunk, but my pride can’t help but be crushed. Was I too sloppy for him? Maybe he kissed me because he pitied me. In any case, it’s clear that whatever minimal standards Jace McLaren has, I did not meet them.

“Just keep me away from him,” I mutter. I have enough to deal with as it is without twisting myself into a knot about Jace.
 

“Will do. Hey, so I’ve been thinking of something lately, and I wanted to talk to you about it.” She winces again, and slurps more coffee. “Later, though. Once my hangover is gone. You want any of these?” she adds, pushing her plate of pastries at me.

I shake my head. That chocolate croissant looks tempting, but between the hangover and my shame over how I acted last night, I’m even more positive than usual that I couldn’t keep anything down.

“I had a bagel before you got here,” I say.

“Oh? What kind?”

“Blueberry, obviously.” It used to be my favorite.

Yasmin cocks her head. “I didn’t see any blueberry bagels over there.”

“Guess I got the last one,” I say, avoiding her gaze. Before she can notice that I don’t have any dirty plates from my imaginary bagel, I add, “So what are we up to today?”

She groans. “Didn’t you hear about the tournament?”
 

“What tournament?”
 

“A sorority from Richmond State challenged us to a showdown. Mini-golf at noon. Their president knows Kelsey somehow. I think from the pageant circuit.”
 

“I’ll pass.” The idea of spending an afternoon with Kelsey and her pageant bestie sounds like the opposite of fun. If I’m lucky, Jace will vacate our room for most of the day, and I’ll be able to read my zombie book and nap.
 

“Passing isn’t an option. Kelsey said that tournament attendance is mandatory.”
 

“Seriously? We’re on
vacation
. She can’t make us go.”
 

Yasmin shrugs a slim dark shoulder. “You know how she gets about these things. And I think she and this pageant girl have a rivalry going on.”

“How so?”

Yasmin hesitates, then meets my gaze. “They were sort of both hitting on Hunter last night.”

From the way Kelsey and Hunter were draped over each other at the gallery, I guess she won. “Oh.”

“You okay, Georgia?”

“Sure.”

“It’s okay not to be okay, you know.”

“Yas, I’m fine. Hunter and I are friends, and he can do what he wants.” Raising the mug to my lips, I finish the last drops of my coffee. “But Kelsey will have to find a way to win the tournament without me. Tell her I’m not interested.”
 

Famous last words.
 

At noon, I’m slinking through the ship, looking for somewhere to hide. Jace was still sleeping in our room, so maybe I’ll try the ship’s library. I head down the promenade, keeping an eye peeled for—

“Hey, Georgia! Looking for the tournament?”
 

Turning around, I stifle a groan. It’s Jessica Hennessey and Quinn Chow, Kelsey’s best friends and co-VPs of our sorority. “Actually, I was—“
 

“You’re totally going in the wrong direction. Good thing we found you!” Jessica says. She hooks her arm around mine.
 

“Look, I’m not really the mini-golf type,” I say.
 

“Oh, I promise it’ll be fun,” Quinn says, and they cheerfully drag me outside to the ocean-themed mini-golf course. Yasmin gives me a woeful look when we get there; she looks like she’s still hung-over. Kelsey greets us with an impatient smile, tossing her platinum ponytail over her shoulder. She must be taking this tournament über-seriously because she’s wearing a pink visor, a white polo dress, and a pair of wedged sneakers. I don’t think I’ve seen her without heels on. Meanwhile, I must look like a black hole compared to her with my strapless maxi-dress.
 

Kelsey counts us into threes, because cruise ship rules limit each mini-golf group to six, and she wants three Kappas with three Richmond State Thetas in each group so we can make sure the other side doesn’t cheat. We’ll add up all the scores at the end to see who wins.