Full Steam Ahead

by Valerie Chase

  I’m not even sure what Samantha sees in me. Maybe it’s that despite my reputation, I’m resistant to her charms. Samantha’s the kind of girl who hates that. She’s pretty, and I’m sure most of my frat brothers would gladly take my place. But Samantha and her friends thrive on drama and gossip and all of that stuff I avoid like the plague. She’s not the kind of person I’d ever trust.

  Unlike Georgia. The thought flits into my mind before I can stop it. I glance over Samantha’s shoulder at Georgia. Her back is tense as she picks at the salad course. She’s eating, at least. I wonder if she’ll keep it down. Then I tell myself it’s not my problem, not anymore.

  Still, I can’t help noticing how stunning Georgia looks despite the strain in the elegant line of her shoulders. I need to stop thinking about her, to stop worrying about her—so I tell my body to forget her.

  It’s not listening.

  Neither, unfortunately, is my brain. I try to keep my anger going, but after a few hours to cool down, I’m starting to wonder if I might have overreacted this afternoon. I guess I have some trust issues, because when I think about it, we only started to get to know each other a couple days ago. And there I went, demanding Georgia’s innermost secrets with all the finesse of a police officer, when I know how hard it is for her to share even her silly secrets, like reading zombie books.

  It just made me so angry to know that Hunter knows things about Georgia that I don’t. If nothing else, I owe her an apology, but I’m not sure what to say exactly, because Georgia doesn’t seem to feel the same way about me that I do about her, if she can trust Hunter more than me. It stings, I’m not going to lie. It stings bad. I want Georgia, but if she’s not on my page, I’m going to wind up gutted. Maybe our rapid implosion is a blessing in disguise.

  I’m trying to convince myself of that when, under the table, I feel a hand on my thigh. I glance at Samantha, who gives me a wink. She’s hot enough to pull off the wink, but it’s wasted on me. Even though I told Georgia we were over, it feels wrong to have another girl’s hand on my leg. I put down my fork, reach under the table, and gently but firmly move her hand back to her own lap.

  She pouts a little. “Not in the mood for some fun?”

  “Look, Samantha.” I pitch my voice low so the rest of the table won’t hear. “You’re sexy as hell, but I’m not in a place to be with anyone right now.”

  I’m trying to let her down easy, but Samantha seems to hear only the rejection. As soon as I finish, her eyes narrow and her lips form a berry-tinted line of anger, and I know I’m in for it.

  “What the hell is your problem, Jace?” she says, loud enough that the lobsters in the fish tank across the dining room probably hear her. “As if I’d ever sleep with you.”

  The rest of our table stops eating to stare at us. Next to me, Dan clears his throat and shoots me a grin.

  “You bothering a lady, Jace?” he drawls, teasing me.

  “Try the other way around,” I mutter.

  Samantha scoffs, shooting me the snootiest death glare I’ve ever seen. “Please,” she sneers. “I don’t go for guys with jailbird fathers.”

  At first I think I must’ve heard her wrong. But conversation dies at the nearby tables, and Georgia’s head whips around toward me.

  “Excuse me?” I say. My voice is calm, but inside I’m seething.

  “Isn’t your dad in jail?” Samantha says.

  “Where did you hear that?”

  She tosses her hair. “A little bird told me.”

  Georgia? I don’t want to believe it, but it’s the only explanation. I’m so pissed I could spit. I opened my heart to her. My soul. She’s obviously not who I thought she was—she’s no better than Samantha. How could I have ever trusted her?

  “Wait, is that true?” asks Quinn, across the table. She looks both horrified and fascinated. “What did your dad do, Jace?”

  This is why I don’t talk about my family; I don’t want them to be a sideshow, the subject of mean gossip from people whose closest brush with hardship is not getting a good parking spot at the mall. But I also won’t lie, because when it comes down to it, I’m not ashamed of who I am.

  I toss my napkin down on the remnants of my salad.

  “Yeah,” I say. “It’s true. And you know what?” I stand and glance at Georgia, who’s staring at me wide-eyed. “Whoever’s been talking about me behind my back can go fuck herself.”

  With that extremely classy comment, I stalk out of the dining room. I’d thought the afternoon sucked, but this evening is turning out to be even worse.

  I didn’t even get my goddamned steak.

  Chapter 22

  Georgia

  I stare at the table, barely seeing the plate of shrimp linguini a waiter sets before me. I didn’t even notice when they took the salad course away. The fork I’m holding still has spinach leaves skewered on it, but as I listen to everyone chatter about Jace’s dad, I don’t think I can stomach another bite. I put down the utensil with a muted clink.

  “I didn’t tell anyone about Jace,” Yasmin whispers. I look up to see her dark earnest eyes. “I swear.”

  “I believe you,” I say, because I do. Yasmin doesn’t gossip, not with what she went through with her sister. Once, she confided to me that in middle school a few girls spread a rumor that she was “contagious” with what Sofia had, and she ate lunch for the rest of the year alone in a bathroom. So I know she wouldn’t have told our friends about Jace.

  Judging by the withering look he threw at me, Jace thinks it was me. In that long space when everyone stared at him, I waited in agony for him to retaliate, to spill my own secrets to everyone. That I’m broke. That I’m struggling with what Yasmin says is an anxiety-related eating disorder. He easily could’ve given people something else to whisper about … but he didn’t.

  “Look, he’ll be okay,” Yasmin says. “Most of the rumors about him are worse.”

  Maybe, but most of the rumors weren’t true. Jace had explained how his Alpha brothers made up the wild stories about how he spent his weekends. But this was his big secret, the stuff he kept hidden.

  I realize he could have lied to Samantha, to all of us, about his father—but he didn’t. He let everyone get a peek at the real him, and maybe it didn’t go over too well, but I know that he’s strong enough to deal with whatever the fallout might be. His secret won’t destroy him the way I let my secret destroy us.

  Suddenly a calmness overtakes me. You know what? I am done letting my secrets destroy the good things in my life. Letting them destroy me.

  Without thinking, I stand up from my chair. Yasmin gives me a startled, worried look, but I only grin.

  “I like zombie books,” I announce to the table.

  My sorority sisters pause, forks and glasses halfway to their mouths.

  “Um, what?” says Chloe into the silence.

  “I like zombie books,” I repeat. There’s a tremor in my voice, but I banish it. “I love them. They’re awesome. Also, I’m super broke. So there.”

  The Kappa girls stare at me as if I’m drunk or possibly unhinged—and maybe I am. Or maybe I’ve realized that the girls who only read highbrow books or who care about my bank account aren’t the kind of people I want in my life anyway. Who cares if I can’t afford a Wal-Mart beach bag, let alone a Dior clutch? Hell, since I have to drop out of school, I probably won’t see any of these people again anyway, except maybe for Yasmin.

  I abruptly realize that I need to tell Jace everything. Maybe it’s too late, but he deserves to know. Scrunching the front of my dress in my fist to drag it out of my way, I dash out of the dining room, ignoring the gossipy chatter that rises up in my wake.

  Out in the hall, I call Jace’s name, but he’s nowhere to be found. I take off toward the elevator, trying to think of where he’d go. I swing by the gigantic fish tank in the atrium, but he’s not among all the people milling about. I check the diner where Jace made me choke down pizza on New Year’s Eve, but he isn’t there either.


  Then I realize I’m an idiot—he thinks I betrayed him, so no way would he go somewhere special to us. I peer into a few of the ship’s bars, then go down to Riviera Deck 8 in case he retreated to our stateroom.

  He’s not there.

  Jace’s dress pants and shirt, however, lie strewn across the cabin floor; and a quick glance into the bathroom tells me that his swim trunks are no longer draped over the towel bar. He must have gone down to the beach. Spinning around, I race back to the elevator and out of the ship, somehow managing not to trip as I jog down the metal ramp to the island’s dock. I should probably have changed, slipped into sandals at least, but I didn’t want to take the time.

  The bonfire party is going full tilt. Several fires stretch down the beach, crackling orange and red sparks into the Caribbean sky. At one pit, hot dogs and marshmallows roast over the flames. I scan the hungry crowd for Jace, but don’t find him.

  My first step off the pier and onto the sand sends my stiletto heels sinking into the soft surface. Muttering a curse, I yank off the shoes. Carrying them in one hand, I continue my search for Jace.

  Finally I spot him, holding a plastic cup of beer and chatting with some of the Alpha guys who skipped out on the formal dinner. Through the flames of the fire pit, I see that he’s wearing his swim trunks and a gray t-shirt, and as always the sight of him makes my heart flip over.

  Swallowing, I re-gather the fabric of my dress and walk toward him, but when he sees me he turns away. Part of me wants to run and hide, but instead I step up next to him and place my free hand on his arm.

  “Jace, I have to talk to you,” I murmur.

  “Not interested,” he says, and shrugs off my touch. I’m ready to chase him around the fire like eight- year-olds on the playground, but instead of padding across the sand he lifts his shirt over his head, discards it with his beer cup on a log, and stalks into the surf. I watch him go.

  Damn. I should have taken the time to change into my bathing suit after all. Some of the other girls on the beach have stayed in their gowns too, so I’m not totally out of place, but I can’t exactly follow him into the ocean dressed like I’m heading to a black-tie wedding—and Jace knows it. I watch him dive under the surface, then reappear several yards out. There’s a line of lighted buoys to show people how far out they’re allowed to swim, and he doesn’t stop until he’s as far out as he can go. Then he treads water.

  I need to talk to him, to tell him the truth. I owe him that much. He’s not going to make it easy … but I’m not going to let him stop me.

  I drop my silver heels into the sand, then stride into the water. The gentle waves surge up to my knees, then my thighs, soaking my dress. The gauzy fabric floats up around me once I’m in past my waist, but it’s light enough that it doesn’t weigh me down. The dress will likely be ruined after tonight, but I don’t care.

  When the water gets too deep for me to stand, I sidestroke the rest of the way to the buoy. Jace watches me come. I think I catch a hint of surprise, but then his features lose all expression. When I reach him, I start treading water. For a second, I wonder if I’ve gone crazy, swimming in the ocean in an evening gown, but I’ve come this far already.

  So here goes.

  “I didn’t tell Samantha about your dad, I swear,” I pant, kicking at the fabric swirling around my legs.

  “Don’t lie to me, Georgia. You’re the only person who knows.”

  “I don’t know how Samantha found out, but I didn’t tell her. I know you don’t believe me, so I won’t waste your time trying to convince you. That’s not why I came here.”

  Jace stays silent. I can’t see his form under the water since the buoy lights reflect off of the surface, but he hardly seems to be kicking at all. Meanwhile, I’m already starting to get tired, so I know I’d better talk fast before I lose my breath.

  Now that I’m here, though, I don’t know what to say. I could admit that I’ve fallen hard for him, that I’ve never felt this way about anyone. That he sees the real me, and won’t let me hide, and how I need him. But I’ve already lost him, and I didn’t come here to try and get him back either.

  “You,” I huff between kicking my legs, “are a work of art.”

  “Don’t,” Jace starts, but I ignore him.

  “I’m not saying that you’re perfect, because that doesn’t exist. But your imperfections make you you. Your past, with all the bad days and the good days and every day in between, molded you into something so strong. One day I hope to be a work of art like you, Jace, but I’m not there. Nowhere near. But someday. And what you shared with me … it gives me hope that I can make it through the dark times ahead. I won’t drag you with me—you deserve better than that. You deserve someone who would never do what I did, who has nothing to hide.”

  “Georgia,” Jace says, but I shake my head, trying not to swallow seawater as I talk.

  “Wait, let me … finish before I … have to go back in.”

  “Come here. There’s a sandbar.” He grabs my hand and tugs me toward him, and sure enough, my toes touch a layer of sand. Thank God. I stand on my tiptoes, and though the waves come up to my neck, it’s much easier to breathe when I’m not trying to tread water at the same time.

  Jace keeps hold of my hand to steady me because he’s a gentleman, but I pull away as soon as I catch my breath. I have to get this out, and get away, before I break down.

  There’s no good way to say this, so I just say it.

  “Two years ago, I committed insurance fraud.”

  Jace blinks. “What?”

  I can’t bear to see his disappointment, so I look down at the pale lights flickering on the water as I explain.

  “A car hit me while I was riding my bike on campus. This was at my old school, before I came to Baxter. I was fine, bruised a bit, but … my dad’s stocks had taken a nosedive, and we were behind on the second mortgage, and well, my parents filed a lawsuit against the driver who hit me, claiming I was more injured than I really was. My mom found a shady doctor who would vouch that I’d suffered a concussion and had ongoing memory problems. It was wrong, so wrong, but if I didn’t go along with it, we were going to lose the house.”

  I risk a glance up. Jace is staring at me like he doesn’t know me, and I can’t blame him. I balance myself against a strong surge of water that tries to knock me off the sandbar, and force myself to continue.

  “So I did. I lied. We settled with the other driver’s insurance company out of court, and we got a big payout that kept us afloat for another year. I still had to take out loans for school, which is why I transferred to Baxter, since it was in-state and cheaper, but it saved us. And for a while, life seemed to get better. I met Hunter, and we started dating. I was still so ashamed at what I did, but what could I do about it? I figured the insurance fraud was a secret I’d have to keep forever.”

  The ocean isn’t cold, even at night, but talking about this chills me through. “Then, about six months ago,” I continue, “the receptionist from the shady doctor’s office emailed me an audio link. He must have been taping my visits, because the recording was of me talking to my parents, agreeing to lie to the insurance company. He also sent a really helpful explanation of insurance fraud,” I add bitterly. “And how I could go to jail if the audio file wound up in the wrong hands.”

  “He blackmailed you,” Jace says quietly.

  I nod. “I’ve been trying to pay him, but I can’t anymore. When I thought Hunter was going to propose, I realized I owed him the truth, so I told him everything. That’s why … why he didn’t want me anymore. Why he broke up with me.”

  Jace’s expression, like he’s sucking on the foulest lemon in the Caribbean, kills me. I fight down the tears rising in my throat, and finish what I’ve come to say.

  “I know I’ve ruined everything with you already, but I’m not asking for anything. I only wanted you to know that you’re the one who gave me the strength to face things. Because of you, I finally told Yasmin about the mess I’m in, an
d she’s offered some legal help if it comes to that.” I’m babbling—Jace doesn’t care about all of this. I’ve told him why I’m not worth his time, and even though he’s listening, his face is a mask of politeness. Sobs build inside my throat, and I know I need to get out of here before I break down.

  “I’m sorry for ruining what we could have had,” I choke out, catching his gaze. “I hope someday you find someone worthy of your trust.”

  Jace opens his mouth, but I can’t bear whatever he’s going to say. Sucking in a desperate breath, I duck under the surface of the sea and kick towards the shore.

  Under the water, it doesn’t matter if I cry.

  Chapter 23

  Jace

  For a couple minutes, I’m too stunned to move so I stay on my sandbar. The ocean surges and ebbs quietly as I try to absorb what Georgia told me.

  I wanted to know her big secret—and now I do. Insurance fraud. Blackmail. As she confessed it all to me, I could hear the anguish in her voice and see the shame on her face. No wonder she hasn’t been able to eat. This secret has been chewing away at her months.

  At least she didn’t perjure herself before a judge, if the insurance payout was settled out of court. But the whole situation is still pretty bad. Prosecutable. If her blackmailer decides to punish her for not being able to pay …

  My hands clench so hard under the water that I swear my bones grind together. I’m not going to let anyone hurt Georgia. A wave of protectiveness passes through my body with the fury of a hurricane.

  Finally, everything clicks into place, especially why Georgia was so reluctant to tell me her secret after Hunter dumped her over it instead of trying to help. Sure, Hunter’s family cares about scandal and that kind of upper-crust stuff, but in my book he’s a moron. Who in their right mind would let Georgia go?

  Me, I suddenly realize. I did that earlier today. Well, I was prepared to admit I’d been an idiot this afternoon on the beach. Georgia must think that I never want to see her again after discovering the truth, but I …