Page 16 of Never Been Shipped

That made sense. Making her official Artist badge also have a room number and key card capabilities would’ve been a colossally bad idea, from a security standpoint. The problem was that when she closed her eyes, she could see the card he was describing very clearly, and it was…currently sitting on top of the nightstand next to her bed.

“Fuck,” she said. “It’s in my room.”

She doubled over, resting her hands on her knees. Shereallywasn’t feeling well, and she didn’t think it was just a panic attack. Although it certainly wasn’t helping, the adrenaline coursing through her body even remembering Ryder’s words, thinking about rehearsals tomorrow, remembering the girls with the selfie and the screeching.

John slid a blue card out of his own back pocket, touching her briefly on the shoulder. “Come on,” he said. “We don’t have far to go.”

Chapter

Nine

The minute heopened the door to his room, Micah disappeared into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. He didn’t know what to do—he didn’t want to hover, but also wanted to make sure she was okay. He changed out of his own punch-stained T-shirt, pulling it over his head by the back of the collar and swapping it for another clean one, trying to move quickly even though he knew the chance that Micah would emerge from the bathroom in the next five seconds was minimal.

Finally he figured he could make himself useful and called the number printed on his welcome paperwork, asking if there was any way to get some ginger ale, saltines, a packet of Dramamine or whatever else they might have on board. He also explained Micah’s lockout situation and was told they could meet her back at her room and let her in to retrieve her key.

John paused, nottryingto listen but finding it impossible to completely ignore that Micah was currently getting sick in his bathroom. “Maybe later,” he said. “Thanks.”

Once he’d hung up the phone, he knocked lightly on the bathroom door. He could still hear her moving around inside, but she didn’t appear to be actively throwing up anymore, so that was something. “Micah?”

Nothing.

“Everything okay?” he asked. A stupid question. Obviously everything wasn’tokay. “I mean, do you think it’s just seasickness, or…”

She groaned, and he wondered if even saying the word was the wrong move right now.

“They’re bringing you medicine,” he said. “And some other stuff.”

“Tell them to bring a horse tranquilizer,” Micah said through the door. “One guaranteed to put me out for oh, approximately five days.”

John smiled. She couldn’t betoobad off if she was making jokes like that. He sat down on the floor, leaning his back against the shared wall. “Have you ever been on a cruise before?”

“No,” she said. “And if I ever go on another again, it’ll be too soon.”

“Feeling any better now?”

The door opened then, just a crack, but it made it easier to hear her. “Yes? No. I don’t know. Mostly I feel stupid.”

John would ask her why, but he could already guess. She would hate that she’d shown this weakness, would hate that she wasn’t in control, probablyreallyhated that he was the one to see her this way. He hoped that last one wasn’t true. There had been a time when he would’ve been the only one she would’ve felt comfortable seeing her this way.

“I really thought cruises were supposed to be different,” Micah said. “Like because the boat is so big, you don’t feel the water or something.”

John brought his knees up, linking his hands loosely around them. “I think that’s the idea. But it was pretty windy out there. Hopefully it’ll calm down soon.”

“Nobody ever thinks about those people on theTitanicwho were feeling sick as a dog, just normal run-of-the-mill seasickness, and then had to deal with anicebergon top of that.”

“I think on a cruise you try to avoid thinking about theTitanicat all.”

“Ah. Good point.” She laughed, such a quiet, intimate sound through that single crack in the door that John felt a sudden chill. He rubbed his hands over his knees, swallowing hard.

“You know, it’s supposed to help if you’re actuallynotdown below,” he said. “Like if you go up to where you can look at the horizon, breathe some fresh air.”

“Well, my room has a balcony.” The door opened a little wider then, and he turned to see Micah’s fingers gripping the wood before her palm dropped to the linoleum floor. “Sorry about that, by the way.”

“Did you request specifically that I not get one?”

Another laugh, this one more of a snort. “No. I just hate when things aren’t even.”

John leaned his head back against the wall, not sure how to respond to that. Things had never beeneven, but that hadn’t been a problem for him. If they only had so many balcony rooms to go around, it made sense that they would give one to her above other members of the band. He just hoped Ryder also got one or they’d never hear the end of it.

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