Thank you to Kristin for her beta work on this chapter!
After their tense encounter with Andie in the street, Joey held Pacey for longer than was necessary. He didn't fight it.
When they finally released their grip, Joey said, "she still loves you."
It was true, but it was also a test. Joey needed to know how he was feeling, to know what he still harbored for Andie, however hard it may be to hear.
"If Andie loved me, she wouldn't have left. She wouldn't have hurt me like that." He replied with an absence of anger, like a deflated balloon.
She didn't tell Pacey that seeing Andie look at him that way made her want to riot, filling her with the desire to smash plates and bone-china teacups into miniscule fragments. The intensity of her own response had wholly surprised her. But on the outside, she just peered up at him in the alley..
"Do you want to go home?" Joey asked.
He nodded.
One hand gripped the bag with the prom dress, the other held his hand as they walked back to Pacey's car in silence.
When Joey didn't receive a single text from Jen the entire day, she should have sensed there was something afoot. The casual check-ins that came every few hours had ceased.
When she brushed her teeth, she wasn't interrupted with a Has he bit you again yet?
Or Are you so busy making hot, sweaty love that you cannot reply to your best friend?
A rookie error in judgment had let the words slip from Joey's mouth during a late night conversation after their run in with Andie in the street.
"I think I might like him," she told Jen while gnawing at her fingernails, phone pressed hard against her ear.
"And?"
"And it is a surprise new development," said Joey.
"Consider me flabbergasted," Jen deadpanned. "What are you going to do about it?"
"Nothing. We saw his ex in the street yesterday. He's still in a bad place. I don't think he's over her."
Apparently , that was the wrong answer.
There was a gentle tap at the door, and when Joey didn't immediately leave her laptop to answer it, the taps became pounding.
"If you would just give me one goddamn minute-" Joey hissed profanities under her breath as she walked to the door and yanked it open, expecting to find B&B guests arriving well before check-in time.
The rude guest was smiling smugly, head tilted and extending her hand with a bottle of Rose.
"Ding dong," said Jennifer Lindley, and Joey leaped out onto the porch and embraced her friend.
"Watch the wine!"
"What the hell?" Joey pulled her friend into her vision, assuring herself she was not a mirage.
"I have come down with a terrible stomach flu. I won't be able to return to the office until next week. Such a shame," said Jen.
"I have never seen someone with the stomach flu have such flawless skin and perfect hair."
"As your trusty side-kick, I realized my services would be better rendered at your actual side."
Joey wagged a finger. "I don't need your services if they involve meddling, Jennifer."
She put a hand on her heart, "I would never!"
Joey hugged her again. She couldn't stop herself, needing to feel the realness of Jen under her fingertips.
"I've booked into a hotel, I know Bessie doesn't have any room here, so you're welcome to bunk in with me and have a break from the couch."
Joey stopped herself from immediately running to pack a bag.
"I'm so excited to show you around Capeside!" said Joey.
"Me too. I've made us dinner reservations for seven pm at this amazing local restaurant I've heard about."
Joey narrowed her eyes. "Jen."
"It gets five star reviews. Apparently the clam chowder is the best on the Cape," she said, as though she was quoting a promotional ad.
" Jennifer ."
"Yes?" she replied innocently.
" Where are these reservations?"
"I think it's called the… Icehouse," she grinned deep and solely for effect.
"Did you come to see me, or did you come to play diabolical matchmaker?"
"Both. I am a woman, perfectly capable of multitasking."
Joey rolled her eyes dramatically before launching at Jen with another hug and inhaling her coffee scent.
"You're so weird," Jen spoke into Joey's hair.
"Says the weirdo who flew across the country to smash humans together like Barbie dolls."
Jen smirked, "Touché."
They dragged Joey's weekend bag into the hotel room. It was a mid-priced option with the comforts of beige walls, generic abstract prints and a balcony overlooking the grocery store. They lay outstretched on the twin beds, surrounded by a wholesome lunch of gossip and vending machine fodder. There wasn't a natural color or flavor in sight.
"Do you want to know?" Jen asked.
"No. Yes. I don't know."
It was Dawson that Jen was referring to, this much Joey knew.
"I will honor your decision either way."
"Do it. Tell me, then I can move on."
"He's miserable."
"That's it? That's your gossip?"
"Well yeah, he's not dating any underwear models or renouncing his love of film. He's Dawson, just fifty percent sadder. I told him all the great artists use their soul crushing splits and exploit them into new, exciting directions. But, he wasn't convinced."
Joey put her face in her hands.
"Hey! His happiness is not your responsibility." Jen said. "He is a grown man. He will get over it and he will move on, and you should move on too!"
Joey had met Jen not long after she'd moved across the country with Dawson to follow his filmmaking dreams. Dawson started a bare-bones production company, and they were in need of a marketing manager to handle the distribution of their first film. Jen Lindley arrived for the interview hours after she got off the plane from New York. She got the job, but Jen was a dry realist who only hung around for the first year before moving onto greener pastures. While she left the job, she kept Joey as her closest friend. Implants from the East Coast, they stuck together, inseparable through morning coffees, cocktails and weekly television binge sessions.
Jen met her partner, Dan, a film sound specialist through Dawson, and the men's friendship kept Jen in close contact with Joey's ex.
Joey didn't bring up Dawson again, and neither did Jen.
In a sugared haze, they napped the afternoon away and Jen recovered from her red eye flight. They woke at six, dressed for dinner and made their way to the Icehouse.
It was busy. Loud with voices, clanking cutlery and soft rock in the speakers. A hostess escorted them to a small booth near the bar.
"Is that him?" Jen asked, finger outstretched to a balding mid-fifties specimen.
Joey ignored her.
"What about him? " She regarded a man with more facial hair than face.
"You are a real pain in the ass, Lindley."
They ordered a pitcher of margaritas to share and a selection of Joey's favorite appetizers.
"Does he seriously own this place? It's freaking incredible."
"It is."
Their pitcher was delivered swiftly and in Pacey's large grip. He placed it between them with two sugar frosted glasses.
"Ladies," he rested a hand on Joey's shoulder, casual intimacy between pretend lovers. Today he wore a fern colored Hawaiian shirt with tiny islands. Each sand mound had a single palm tree bent to one side.
Pacey was expecting them. Joey had sent a text advising him of her impromptu guest and their reservation.
"Jen, this is Pacey. Pacey, my oldest and wisest friend, Jen."
Jen took Pacey's offered hand and said, "Ah Pacey, I finally meet the shark that has captured my friend's heart."
His eyes flicked to Joey. If she could have sunk beneath the table and into a pit of doom, she would have.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Jen."
"You'll note that Joey called me wise, but she has a tendency to ignore the bulk of my advice."
He nodded. "In my brief experience with Miss Potter, I find that advice following is not part of her overall package."
"I object to this slander!" Joey interjected with forged anger.
Jen laughed. "Overruled. Need I remind you that my wise observations and advice regarding a certain ex-husband were ignored for years? "
Pacey rescued Joey from further harassment and changed the subject. "What brings you to Capeside?"
"Well, Joey was raving about her new guy and I thought that feigning an illness and flying three thousand miles seemed like an appropriate response to come and make my assessments in person."
"I appreciate your dedication."
"I'm not sure Joey does," Jen said.
"The question is, will I pass the test?" he mused. "I'm assuming there are tests, right?"
"I'm thinking… feats of strength, a bathroom cleanliness inspection, and, of course, standard financial checks. I'd like to see a healthy 401k."
"These sound achievable, if not moderately terrifying."
Jen poured herself a glass and took a long sip before pointing a finger up and down at Pacey. "We might need to have a further chat about fashion, though."
He feigned offense. "Joey is well aware of my extraordinary taste and my secret closet of Hawaiian shirts."
Jen spun to Joey, unbelieving. "He has a whole closet of them?"
"I believe it was a basement, but, alas, he has not yet permitted me access," said Joey, shaking her head.
Jen clicked her tongue at them. "Unacceptable. Josephine Potter, you should know that you always look at a man's closet before sleeping with him."
Joey cleared her throat. "Should I leave while you two sort out the rules regarding Pacey and my relationship?"
Pacey leaned down and kissed her cheek. "No, babe. I should. We're slammed again tonight. Someone has to keep Capeside well lubricated." He glanced back at the bar, "Order whatever you want, drinks too. It's on me."
"I like him," Jen said.
"How long are you here for, Jen? We will have to all catch up. Maybe I can take everyone out on the sailboat? Show you some more of the area from the water. It's the best way to see it."
"Count me in! My flight home is booked for Sunday night."
"How does tomorrow sound? The winds are supposed to be mild and I've taken the day off. Joey, does that work for you?"
She nodded.
"And considering you'll be here Saturday, you're welcome to come to my brother's bachelor party. The more the merrier. Joey can let you know all about the theme, because if you're coming, you'll need to go shopping." He winked at Joey.
"Sure, thanks," said Jen.
Pacey leaned into the booth and kissed Joey swiftly on the lips before strolling back to the bar. Joey felt like she'd been in a drive-by. She touched her fingers to her lips.
"He is fucking delicious Jo. Screw the appetizers, you need to eat him for dinner," said Jen, louder than was necessary.
"Jen!" Joey gave her friend the bulge eyed warning.
"I'm serious. I've seen him in the flesh now. Those eyes, Jesus Christ. I'm in a secure relationship, but even I almost swooned. How you haven't had sex with him yet, I'll never know!"
"Welcome aboard," Pacey sang out from the back of the vessel. He was busying himself with ropes and fuel.
Jack's head popped up from the cabin with a wide smile. "Hope you don't mind an extra deckhand crashing your trip."
"Not at all!" said Joey.
Tyche took their bare footfalls with only the slightest sway. The sea was flat, so flat you could lay a ruler on it. Seagulls bobbed beside the vessel, their wake the only movement in the water.
"We'll have to use the engine today if we want to get anywhere," said Pacey.
Joey was disappointed. The idea of pulleys and sails flapping in the breeze had excited her. She'd imagined Pacey barking orders about rigging and starboard that made no sense.
She crouched her head and went into the cabin to store the lunch that she and Jen had brought. They'd filled a picnic basket with crackers, soft cheeses, meats, and sliced fresh fruit. Beside the containers of food sat two bottles of Merlot, plastic cups and napkins.
When she came back on deck, Jack shook Jen's hand in introduction and said, "I hear you've got a debilitating stomach flu."
"It's true. I'm unable to even stand! Terrible thing, the flu." Jen laid the back of her hand on her temple dramatically.
Jack laughed.
"During my convalescence, I'd like to request a social media ban by those in my presence. Don't need anyone tagging me in pictures on the East Coast, do we now?"
"I'm sure I can keep off Instagram for a few hours at the very least," said Jack before Pacey directed him to untie the ropes.
Pacey was behind the wheel, sunglasses on and bare feet apart, steering them away from the marina, into the horizon. A wake parted in two behind them, unfurling into gentle rolls and disturbing the sleeping sea.
"We'll head out to Buckridge Island. It's the best spot for swimming and it should be pretty quiet," said Pacey.
Jen glanced across to Joey, watching the way she watched Pacey. He wore a white t-shirt that spread tight across his defined back. His calves were muscular, leading up to the thickness of his thighs and disappearing beneath his board shorts.
"Lovely view," Jen said, voice low.
"Spectacular," Joey replied with a grin.
Jack appeared behind them. "I agree, objectively of course."
Jen cackled and asked, "Isn't he about to be your brother-in-law?"
"I was commenting on the general landscape," said Jack, waggling his eyebrows.
"Sure you were," Jen teased him and they broke out into laughter again.
"What's so funny?" Pacey spun around, considering the trio sitting across the stern.
"Joey was just commenting on how ridiculously good looking you are," said Jen.
Joey, mouth agape, slapped her friend's bare calf.
Pacey dipped his sunglasses and winked at Joey. "It's a natural response. No need to fight it."
They all laughed.
Pacey navigated an invisible route, the outboard motor droning a quiet hum, while Joey and Jen poured everyone generous cups of wine.
They arrived at the spot. A small island not too far from shore that stuck out from the ocean like an irregular rhombus. Pacey pointed out that the section which teetered over the open sea was the famed 'jump rock', the best place to leap out and descend into the blue.
Joey took one look at it. "That's a no from me."
Pacey was peeling off his shirt, ready to go.
"Is this what old Joey would do?" he said.
"You mean stay on the deck all day and avoid having fun? Then yes." Jen answered for her.
"I think that Joey 2.0 would give it a try at the very least," said Pacey.
"Are you planning to invoke my upgraded model every time you want me to do something against my will?"
Pacey nodded, "Yes, I believe I am."
"That's unfair."
Jen poked her friend with her toe. "No Joey, it's not. It's called gentle prodding and going outside of one's comfort zone. Listen to what the attractive sailor is telling you."
"I don't see you in the water," Joey shot back to her friend.
"I am a land creature, Josephine. You, of all people, should know that."
Pacey tapped his foot. "So, whaddya say?"
"Peer pressure is a bitch," she pulled off her sundress to reveal a pale blue bikini. Pacey swallowed.
"That's my girl!" Jen clapped. "Wait, Joey, you need sunscreen on your back. You might get burned!" She threw the bottle at Pacey and he caught it with surprise.
"Um, are you okay with this?" He asked Joey.
She nodded and turned. Pacey squeezed the white liquid across her shoulders and rubbed it in smooth circles over her skin.
Jen grinned, her sunglasses sitting at the end of her nose.
Pacey silently covered all the areas, getting beneath the string of her bikini top.
"What about you, Jack?" Joey asked. "Going to jump with us?"
Jack peered up from his novel. "I could go in the water any day. I cannot laze on a yacht any day. Also, I need to tan for the honeymoon."
"I'm glad you consider this a yacht, Jack."
"When does a sailboat become a yacht?" Joey asked.
"When she grows up to be a much bigger boat and the purchase price has considerably more zeros at the end." Pacey said before saluting and diving off the deck as though he'd done it a thousand times before. Joey sat on the edge and managed a careful slip into the salt water.
"Follow me," Pacey swam across to the rock face before pulling himself up onto a jagged ledge and waiting for her. They stood upon gray shale rocks like staircases, peppered with sun warmed pools. Crabs basked in the heat before hustling sideways as bubbling waves stretched their fingers towards them.
Joey followed closely behind Pacey, taking considered steps to avoid slipping.
They made their way up the island. A gentle gradient began before the final ascent required hands and feet to pull them up to the ledge.
"I'm not so sure Joey 2.0 had rock climbing in mind when she wanted to do crazy things."
"Nonsense. This is easy." Pacey extended a hand to Joey for the last few feet of the climb. She gripped his arm for stability and straightened, looking out. The horizon was jellied with heat. Terns lazily swooped the sky, the lack of wind making the journey more arduous, so they landed with a plop, bobbing beside the boat.
"Can't we just sit up here and enjoy the view?" Asked Joey, reluctant to go too close to the edge or look directly down.
"You can if you want, but I'm going to jump."
"You're going to leave your fake-girlfriend up here all alone?"
"I think my fake-girlfriend will take the leap," he smiled like trouble.
"How do you know?" she asked.
He shrugged, "I just do."
His confidence in her forced Joey to look down. The depths were sapphire, tiny waves winking the sun's reflection at her. It was inviting and terrifying in equal measures. Her stomach dipped.
Screams of encouragement floated from the deck of the sailboat. Jen chanted. Jack let out almighty hoots.
"Don't overthink it. Don't think about what happens below, the water or the splash. Just jump," Pacey said.
"That's easier said than done."
He held out his hand and she took it. "Want to do it together?"
Joey nodded.
He locked eyes with her, giving her hand an encouraging squeeze. "Remember. Don't think."
She took a deep breath.
"Five, four, three-" he began.
"Can we start at ten? I need more time."
"Shall I start from one hundred?" he teased.
"Ten would suffice."
"Stop stalling, Potter. This is happening. You ready? From ten?"
She nodded.
"Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two…"
They bent knees, took a bouncing step and leaped, hand in hand, into the nothingness. It felt endless; the time stretching like an elastic until it retracted with a snap and they hit the water. Their plunge tossed them deeper below than Joey expected. It seemed an eternity before she came up for air and drew in the first shocked breath.
Pacey was waiting for her, water droplets skimming down his face like rivers.
"How was it?" His breaths were deep.
"Terrifying. Amazing."
He smiled.
She didn't trust herself in the water with him, so she swam back towards the boat.
"Why are you running away?" he asked.
Joey stopped and spun around, treading water. "I'm not."
"Could have fooled me."
"I sense that if we return too quickly, Jen might just toss us back in the water," said Pacey.
Joey sighed. He was right.
She duck dived underwater. Bubbles cascaded in contained releases from her mouth. She counted to twenty. In the deep she could escape his stare, escape Jen's scrutiny, escape her own budding feelings, if only for those twenty seconds.
The moment she came back for breath, he was there waiting, lines around his eyes crinkled against the sunlight.
He let her swim in silence, paddling himself around.
Eventually, he lapped over to the ladder. "Watch out for sharks," he teased.
Water streamed off his bare skin as he hauled himself out, grabbed a towel and rubbed himself down.
Joey stayed, kicking herself into a float and stared up into the never-ending blue.
Time ceased to have meaning. Hours were punctuated by snacks, laughter, afternoon naps and the diligent reapplication of sunscreen. When the wine bottles were dry and their skin blushed pink, Pacey stood and cleared the decks.
"We should probably head back. There isn't much daylight left."
Everyone pouted in response, but slowly arose from their positions and helped tidy. Pacey started the engine and took his place at the wheel.
They made their way back to the marina as the sun set. At the bow, Joey sat, legs dangling over the water. The horizon belonged to her. Not a single sail or vessel impeded her view.
Jen balanced along the railing and relaxed beside her friend.
"I think I'm in love with Jack. In a purely platonic way," said Jen, then leaned in conspiratorially, "and I think you're falling in love with Pacey in a way that is not platonic at all."
Joey looked at Jen with wide brown eyes before resting her head against Jen's shoulder.
"Something is happening. I just don't know what it is."
Jen dipped her head on top of Joey's and they sat in silence the whole way home.
Helping guide Pacey into the marina, Jack jumped to the pier and wound the ropes around the bollards. They filled the picnic basket with the debris of the day and stepped back onto solid ground just as the sky turned from tangerine to velvet black and the moon arrived dutifully to the east.
"That was incredible, Pacey. Anytime you want to take me out on your boat, I'll fly across the country again in a heartbeat," said Jen.
Pacey adjusted the wet towel around his shoulders, "Okay, I'll give you a few days' heads up."
"Joey, you can stay at Pacey's tonight if you want. Don't let my arrival spoil your fun. I'm beat. I'll probably just go back to the hotel and collapse," said Jen with a casual air.
Joey shot her a look.
"You're welcome to stay," Pacey said.
Jack glanced between Joey and Pacey. "Surely Joey has a toothbrush there by now?"
They observed each other awkwardly.
It turned out Jen had already arranged for Jack to take her to the hotel. Everyone said their goodbyes and Pacey and Joey drove back to Pacey's house.
They performed Cat Stevens' evening dosing with relative ease. The heat of the day robbed him of the energy to fight, and he took the pills with only a few deathly swipes of a paw.
Joey stood in Pacey's kitchen, a cotton dress over a damp bathing suit, hair spilling down her back in thick waves, kissed earlier by the salt of the sea. Pacey was watching her with an intensity that made her feel underdressed.
"Do you mind if I use your shower?" she asked.
He collected fresh towels and went to his room, coming out with the Bruins shirt folded haphazardly on top.
Joey locked the door and placed the linens on the bathroom counter. She reached out, touching the shirt with her fingertip, at the place where the fabric had worn so thin that a small hole opened near the neckline. The shirt wasn't freshly laundered; it was crinkled. Joey could see it, just as it was the other morning, resting against his chest.
She showered, running the water cool to temper her cooked skin and dried off. Pulling his shirt over her naked body, his scent enveloped her.
What did he do while he wore this shirt? Did he drink his morning coffee? Did he sleep in it, dreaming of the ocean? Did he think of her?
Bringing it to her face, she pressed her nose into the cotton and the hair rose on her arms.
They weren't hungry, but they ate spoonfuls of peanut butter from the jar and washed it down with cold beer. Cat Stevens was perched high on his tower, staring at them with unblinking contempt.
"I like Jen," Pacey said.
Joey smiled, spoon in her mouth, "Jen is the best."
Pacey's eyes were locked on her spoon, so Joey spun it on her tongue and pulled it out, facing upwards.
He swallowed. "You two seem like an unlikely friendship."
"We are," said Joey, "But I think we even each other out."
"Sometimes we all need someone like that. The yin to your yang."
Joey threw her spoon in the sink with a clang. Pacey screwed the lid back on the jar.
"Jen is going to struggle when we 'break up'" Joey's said with finger quotes.
"Nine days," replied Pacey. He was counting. She was afraid to.
"Have you had any brilliant break up plans?" she asked.
"Do you want to do a theatrical mid-wedding breakup? Throw a drink in my face? A slap for good measure?"
"I'll spare Jack and Doug the horror on their big day."
"We could just say it was casual, and that it didn't work. The spark wasn't there," said Pacey.
That plan was absurd. Surely everyone saw the sparks? Joey felt them with every word they spoke, every glance, no matter how small or insignificant.
"Let's worry about it later. It's depressing thinking about the breakup," she said.
"What can I do to cheer you up?"
Joey thought for a moment. "Can I see them?" she asked.
Pacey looked confused. "See what?"
"The shirts?"
He chuckled, kneading the muscles in his neck. "Oh, the shirts. Are you sure you're ready?"
"I was born ready. And also, I know Jen's going to ask me about it tomorrow, so I need to be prepared. She's going to want to know dimensions, lighting, plastic or wooden coat hangers. There may be a quiz."
He walked up the stairs, Joey trailing behind, and turned into his bedroom, the third door to the right. She'd seen a snippet of his room the night he'd helped her with the zipper, but now the door was wide open to her.
His bedroom was almost empty, much like the rest of the house. All signs of life had been stripped from its walls. A king bed sat on the far side, bedside tables and a lamp, books stacked up beside an empty glass of water.
He opened the door to the walk in cloest and flicked on the light. It was quite large. Each wall had a rack for hanging clothes and a set of drawers. One side was completely empty, the other was full. Even closets told stories of relationships that once were.
"You've built this up. I'm not sure it's going to live up to your expectations," said Pacey.
She walked inside. He leaned against the door frame. There they were, Hawaiian shirts all lined up on hangers, a mini rainbow of familiar favorites. She ran her hands across the sleeves and said, "it is somewhat underwhelming, isn't it?"
Pacey laughed, bending at the waist. "Don't say I didn't warn you."
She pulled one out and held it up against her chest. "Do you think this is my color?" she asked of a teal design.
"I think the Bruins shirt looks better," he replied with a grin.
She hung it back up.
Beside the shirts was a large zipped up suit protector.
"Is that your outfit for prom?"
Pacey nodded.
"Can I have a sneak peek?" She asked.
He shook his head. "You have to wait."
She pouted. "I'm your date. What if we clash?"
"We won't. I've seen your outfit. And don't drop that lip at me," Pacey warned, bringing his arm up to cover his eyes.
"That lip gets me most things I want."
"I have no doubt. But it won't work on me."
She waited until he uncovered his eyes and did it again, more dramatically this time.
"Jo, you only have to wait a few more days. You can do it."
Joey sighed, "Is it weird I'm excited about prom?"
"Not at all."
"My junior prom after party, I had my first kiss with Dean Michaels playing spin the bottle."
She lost her virginity to Dawson after the senior prom, but she didn't say that out loud.
"Was it good?" He asked.
"As good as a sloppy kiss with an over eager sixteen-year-old can be."
"At my junior prom after party, I played seven minutes in heaven with Tamika Winton."
"Weren't you banging a teacher by that age? Hadn't you outgrown that game with all your inappropriate sexual experience?"
Pacey scoffed, "Outgrow a game where you're locked in a closet and forced to make out with a random female with no strings attached? Does anyone ever outgrow that?"
"It figures you were someone who played that. You seem like the type." said Joey.
"The type? What is the type? And the way you're talking makes me wonder if you ever played?"
"I didn't. The depths of my sordid game playing was spin the bottle. Only the cool kids played seven minutes in heaven," she said.
"That makes sense then. You've never done it. No wonder you don't see the appeal."
"Spin the bottle was bad enough. Thank God they didn't lock me in a closet with Dean. Teenage Joey wouldn't have been able to handle fumbling breast grabbing and sloppy kisses."
A strange look clouded Pacey's face before he closed the door behind him and turned out the light.
"Pacey, what are you doing?" Joey spoke into the darkness.
"I'm showing you what it's like. In the dark. In a closet."
"Turn on the light," she said. But she didn't reach for the switch, neither did he.
"The crux of the game is that in the dark, your senses are heightened. You can't see, so you can only feel, smell, hear… taste."
Joey went for a sarcastic reply, but her voice came out a little more strangled than she expected. "I'm aware of the logistics."
He continued. "It increases the anticipation tenfold. Pretend you're sixteen, you're riding on all the excitement of your first prom. You're wearing an incredible dress and you've had your first beer, and you've been roped into this crazy game. You go in the closet and you don't know what to expect. Who to expect. A flash of light comes and you don't see who they sent in with you."
A tingle ran down Joey's spine. He had moved no closer to her, but it didn't matter. His voice touched her. Its gravel and tenor snaked inside her flesh.
"Then what?" She squeeked out.
"Then you stand in the dark, nervous. You can hear them breathing. Your palms sweat and butterflies dance in your stomach. You're worried the person doesn't want to kiss you. You're worried that they might push you away. But you want to kiss them. Bad."
She could hear clothing move on the hangers. His voice sounded closer, but she couldn't quite pinpoint his location.
"Then what?" Joey asked.
"Then you reach out a hand, you need to find where they are. To see if they flinch or if they accept the touch."
Something grazed her, a finger, a hand. It landed on her wrist. He lifted her arm and kissed the pulse point, so soft it was like a breeze.
Joey swallowed, pushing him further, her voice not more than a whisper. "Then what?"
He was close. She could feel his breath. She sucked it in, wanting his air swirling inside her body, her lungs filling with nothing but him.
"Now you have to get brave. You need to throw away your fear of rejection. You need to just do it, even if it scares you, even if it changes absolutely everything."
"Maybe, hypothetically, you're just faking a relationship with this person. So it's no big deal. It's just pretend, so nothing will change."
His lips were at her ear now, dragging their way to her mouth. His soft beard tickled her skin until it rested at the corner of her lips. When he spoke, his lips moved against hers.
"Nothing will change. Promise?" he said.
She nodded, even though he couldn't see her.
"Should we set a timer?" she asked, abiding by the rules of the game. There was no doubt about it, she needed rules, order, spreadsheets, something with a semblance of control.
His phone illuminated the small space. Joey squinted at the brightness. His fingers tapped, and she watched him enter 7:00, hit start and shove his phone back in his pocket, plunging them back into darkness.
"Where were we?" Pacey asked.
"I was promising you nothing would change."
"And I was standing here, using every muscle in my body to stop myself from touching you."
He breathed against her cheek, struggling with his demons in the dark.
"The seven minutes have started, Pace. You don't have to stop yourself from anything."
She touched his face, cupping his jaw and turning her head just the smallest degree, so that his lips collided with her own.
After years of black and white, a touch like technicolor. Her mouth opened to him, begging him to kiss her. His tongue licked her bottom lip, and she groaned. Then, through all the restraint he'd had, through the little touches and the soft breaths, something snapped. Pacey's lips crashed into her own and his body pressed flush against hers. Their tongues met, his hands threading through her damp hair, scrabbling to get her closer.
Closer.
Closer.
They couldn't get close enough.
Pacey walked her back into the shirts, the coathangers behind them screeching against the rack as the weight of them crumpled the fabric. He hadn't showered. He tasted like sailing, like salt and their bodies plunging from jump rock.
Pacey kissed with intent, with an insatiable hunger that Joey felt in her bones. His body was a wall against her, impossibly hard. She let her hand graze the bulge in his pants, and he groaned into her mouth. A hand snaked up under his Bruins shit and soft touches grazed the bottom of her braless breast. He cupped it, rolling her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. His mouth stayed magnetized to hers, his tongue tasting her, like she was his favorite food.
It was impossibly hot in the closet, their combined breaths making Joey feel she may spontaneously combust. Pacey's hand left her breast and grazed her midriff, beginning its journey to the waistband of her shorts. The elastic was barely a hurdle, and he slid beneath her underwear. Joey parted her legs, and he swooped a finger down into her folds.
She moaned loudly into his mouth.
Pacey's finger found her wet, embarrassingly so. An index finger slipped around her clit in slow circles before applying pressure to the spot. He repeated the move a few times before Joey linked her arms over his shoulders for support. With each drag of his fingers, the muscles in her legs became less reliable.
When he left her swollen clit and inched a finger inside, she called his name. It echoed in the small space. She felt his smile through the kisses.
A second finger joined the first, and when it did, Pacey's erection thumped against her thigh.
Fingertips curled against her walls, beckoning, masterfully finding each and every nerve ending and pouring all of his effort into making her come. Each time he dove deeper, he pressed his hard cock into her thigh, like he was fucking her at the same time.
Blood pulsed through her veins, pounding in her ears like a bass drum. A flush rose in her throat. His thumb rubbed her clit in time with his fingers' movements.
Deep in her, the aching wave built. With each entry, she climbed further and further until she crashed, orgasm spreading from her core to her extremities, curling her bare toes into the carpet.
"Pacey!" she called into the darkness while her body crumpled into oblivion. Muscles liquefied, Pacey held her upright, his lips and biceps grounding her.
Melodic bells chimed in the small space from his back pocket. It was the timer.
Pacey's lips retreated from hers, slipping to her neck, resting below her ear. He inched out his fingers ever so slowly.
" That's why they call it seven minutes in heaven," he whispered, his voice molasses thick. "Now you're one of the cool kids."
"We could hit the timer again?" she cooed.
He shook his head against hers. "We need to stick to the rules."
Fuck the rules, she thought. But Pacey was setting his boundaries, and she had to respect them. He had made it clear, many times, that he wasn't ready, even if the last seven minutes proved that she definitely was.