Full Steam Ahead (Sea Swept #1) by Valerie Chase Page A

bully.”
    “That’s hardly the worst thing you’ve called me this trip.” He nods at the plate of pizza. “Don’t be shy. I like a girl with an appetite.”  
    “I can’t,” I say miserably, and wait for him to scoff. But he doesn’t, only looks at me steadily.
    “Why not?” he says, and there’s something in his eyes so gentle that I can’t stand it. I know he’s not going to let me off the hook like Hunter always did. Jace isn't someone I can fool. I take a shaky breath.
    “Because I’ll throw it up, okay?”
    Jace touches my arm. “Why?”
    “Because I can’t keep it down,” I admit. “I can’t keep anything down.”
    “Please try. For me.”
    “Why would I do anything for you?”
    “Because I’m asking.”
    That simultaneously frightens and warms me. I can’t let him get close, but God, it feels nice to have someone care about me. I don’t know why Jace cares, but he does for some reason. He’s more worried for me than my parents are. More than Hunter ever was.  
    “I’d only get sick,” I warn him.
    “We’ll deal with that later. Right now you need something in your stomach.” When I don’t move toward the pizza, he captures my gaze. “Please, Georgie.”
    His eyes are green and mesmerizing.  
    “Stop calling me Georgie,” I mumble, but I’m weakening.
    “Maybe I will, if you eat.”
    “Really?”
    “Maybe.” He’s wearing a smirk, and I know he doesn’t mean it, but I start eating. It’s his fault if he winds up with puke all over his gray suit. Jace also has a slice of pizza, which is as good as it smells, and we eat in silence until the plate is empty.
    After I swallow the last bit of crust, I wipe my hands with a napkin and avoid Jace’s gaze.
    Now that I have some solid food in my stomach, for however long it manages to stay there, I’m horrified by what just happened. Almost happened. What was I doing, leaning over the railing? Trying to reach the water? No wonder Jace thought …
    We are inside, but close enough to the ballroom down the carpeted promenade that we can dimly hear the DJ say something about how it’s nearly midnight. He starts counting at thirty, and it feels like the ship throbs with the chanted numbers. Several thousand voices count down to one, then erupt in cheers. The guy behind the pizza counter barely looks up from his smartphone.  
    Jace picks up his water and taps the glass against mine.  
    “Here’s hoping next year will be better than the last,” he says, and takes a sip.
    “It couldn’t be worse,” I mutter.
    “It can always be worse.”  
    “You’re right. It probably will be.” My stomach turns as the familiar anxiety invades my mind. Every day that passes, the closer I get to my new blackmail deadline. I might be able to scrape enough money together to pay for this one, but what about the next one, and the one after that? I didn’t think it was possible, but this new year will probably be worse than the one that just ended.
    Exhausted and nauseated by the thought, I fold my arms on the table. But as my stomach starts to churn in earnest, warning me that it will reject that slice of pizza, Jace touches my fingers.
    “Next year will be better,” he says. “I promise.”
    There is no way he can promise me that. No way he can know the darkness that lays ahead, if I can’t figure out how to keep paying up. And my family … How can it be better when it is going to get so, so much worse? But I look up into his green eyes, and for just a moment, he banishes the darkness. Maybe things will be okay, somehow.
    Then fear shoots through me, reaches in and rips out the warmth, because I know better than to get my hopes up. There is no escape for me, and pretending otherwise, even for a little while, will make everything more painful later on. Jace might be looking at me in a way I thought no one would look at me again, but if he ever finds out the truth …
    “Stop it,” Jace says.  
    I blink, startled. “Stop what?”