Monumental thanks go out to my betas on this chapter - Kristin & Traveler158
Chapter Text
They'd emerged from the closet out of breath and into the blinding lights of Pacey's bedroom. Joey's lips swollen from his kisses, her neck flaming, her body alive.
"Well, goodnight," was all she said, fleeing from his room and the peculiar look on his face.
She could have stayed, marinating in the supreme awkwardness and pretending that what just happened was no big deal. But she needed an escape, to breathe, to feel some semblance of control.
Covers pulled tight as she lay on the futon, blinking into the darkness, Joey's skin prickled with heat, awakened by his touch. She squeezed her eyes closed and willed sleep to find her.
Birdsong woke Joey early. In her haste to escape, she'd forgotten to close the shutters. The summer sun declared its arrival with brilliant rays against her sheets. Downstairs she could hear Pacey in the kitchen, cupboards closing.
It was the morning after the closet incident, after Pacey's lips were on hers, after the orgasm that made the ground swell and shake beneath her.
Daylight softened what had seemed too much to handle in the dark of night. She was sure she could face him now, even if it meant addressing the perilous shift that transpired in the space of seven minutes.
Joey padded downstairs, drawn to his sound. Cat Stevens was on the staircase mid way down. He was facing the kitchen, but seemed reluctant to go any further.
"You okay, little guy?" Joey asked.
Cat was frozen in place, only his robust tail making the faintest of errant ticks.
Joey shrugged and continued, rounding the corner into the kitchen and coming to an abrupt halt.
Before her, a blonde woman was standing with her back to Joey, an outstretched arm placing a box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch into an open cupboard.
They weren't Pacey's noises she heard.
They were Andie's.
Startled by Joey's sharp intake of breath, Andie spun around.
The women stared at each other.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Joey spat.
"There is only one car in the driveway, I thought…" Andie said, eyes darting.
"What are you doing in Pacey's kitchen?" Joey's voice was low. She didn't want to wake him.
"I was just dropping off a few things, making sure he's eating well."
"Did he ask you to do that?"
Andie's tone was apprehensive. "No. Look, I didn't realize you were on sleepover terms. I figured it was just Pacey here. I'm leaving for my plane to the conference and…"
"How is he supposed to move on if you're back in this house? If you're delivering groceries like nothing happened?" Joey's voice was shrill, but she was trying, so damn hard, to contain her rage.
Andie's eyes flicked down to his Bruins shirt on Joey's body. Her lip twitched.
"I have a key. My name is on the deed," said Andie, finding some resolve.
"Is your stuff here? Is anything you own here besides the cat that you dumped?"
"My stuff isn't here because-"
Joey interrupted. "Are you here because you saw us in the street?"
Andie froze. A silent confirmation.
"So you see him with someone else, and you decide you want him back. Like a child with a toy? And you think that some food in the fridge and his favorite cereal can manipulate him into forgiveness?"
Andie's voice broke as she spoke, "You don't understand. We were together for six years."
"And you left him."
"I didn't leave. I never wanted to leave. Pacey moved my stuff out. Every last thing we owned. Yes, I cheated on him, yes I was considering my future for a while, but I didn't want this."
Joey was taken aback. She'd assumed a lot about their relationship, too much, in fact.
"Then why are you meeting with lawyers, splitting the assets?" Joey asked.
"Because that's what Pacey wants."
Joey tipped her chin. "Do you blame him?"
Andie shook her head.
"If he wants to end things, Andie, you have to respect that."
"You've been in his life for five minutes, Joey. Our brothers are getting married. I'm not going to ride off into the sunset and disappear out of his life just because he got a rebound."
Something grew in Joey's sternum, alien and unfamiliar.
"You cheated on him. You broke him. You devastated him. Why the hell would he want you back?"
Andie froze, Joey was sure her lip wobbled, but there was no doubt the last thing Andie would do was let Joey Potter see her cry.
"You are playing make believe," said Andie.
Joey's head raised, her eyes narrowed.
"Excuse me?"
"You're sleeping on Bessie's couch and going out sailing like life is some kind of magical fairytale. Life isn't like that. Relationships are hard, people work long hours and get home late and exhausted and they have fights about whose turn it is to do dishes and feed the cat."
"How do you know I'm sleeping on Bessie's couch?" Joey asked.
"I live in Capeside too, you know."
"So what? That's small town gossip. Who cares?"
"It's that small town gossip saying that Pacey needs space, not to be tethered to an out-of-town rebound girl a month after a broken engagement."
Andie collected the unpacked groceries and slung her handbag over her arm. Joey didn't know why she was standing in Pacey's kitchen, arguing with his ex over the validity of their fake-relationship but she clutched her chest where that feeling continued to grow.
"You need to do what's best for Pacey," Joey pleaded, voice shaking.
"And what's that? You?" Andie spat.
The feeling in her chest rose and sat swollen in her throat. She knew what it was now, unequivocally. It was jealousy, potent and distinct.
"You know what? If you really wanted to be with Pacey, you would be. You wouldn't have changed your mind about your relationship. You wouldn't have cheated on him. You'd be in that bed with him right now instead of creeping in under the guise of grocery delivery."
Andie picked up her key off the counter, turned and left.
The kitchen plunged into silence. Joey's hands tremored. She let her weight fall against the fridge, breathing deep breaths.
Joey had no claim to Pacey's heart and yet she'd just served his ex fiance bitter words. Andie's criticism of her presence in his life had left Joey bruised.
Maybe this was always going to be the outcome? Their fake relationship the hook that drew Andie and Pacey back together.
No sounds came from upstairs. Pacey was still sleeping soundly.
Joey's bare feet skipped across the floorboards, up the stairs, past Cat. In the small spare room she made the bed silently, slipped out of Pacey's clothes and into her own. She folded them, leaving them on the futon before heading down the stairs and out the front door.
The fitting room opened and Jen stepped out in a red pleather jumpsuit. Her height disadvantage left the last five inches of hem dangling over her bare feet.
"I don't think I'm going to have time for the tailoring required on this one," she declared in the mirror.
"It's a shame. It is a nice statement piece."
Jen regarded her in the reflection. "You look incredible today. You're glowing," Jen said, admiring Joey.
"I've got a new moisturizer. But it's most likely sunburn from yesterday on the boat."
"Let me know what it is. I want some," said Jen.
Joey didn't tell Jen what had happened in the closet, she didn't know where to start. For one, she wasn't ready to admit Jen was right. But mostly, she didn't want to share the moment with anyone. It was hers, theirs, and she wanted to protect it. But that moment was now a package deal. Andie had edged her way into that closet with them, and Joey didn't know how to get her out.
Joey's phone buzzed, not for the first time today, with a message from Pacey. He'd also tried to call, but she'd declined it every time.
Is everything okay? x
Joey stared at it for a while before replying. All is well. I promised to take Jen dress shopping. Sorry I bailed.
She snapped a photo of the dressing room door with a foot of Jen's lower extremities in view and sent it to Pacey.
That's okay. :) I'm working until late tonight and tomorrow morning. Are you happy to meet at the Icehouse for the bachelor party? x
Jen flicked another reject over the door.
That's fine with me. See you there. :) Joey typed, but no smile could grace her face.
"I just want to circle back." Jen appeared from the stall in her bra and underwear and collected another dress from the pile.
"Yeah?"
"That after a hot, sweaty day on the boat, sunscreening each other, the two of you went back to Pacey's house and went to sleep, like in separate beds?" Jen replayed the scenario as though it were missing a crucial detail.
"Correct."
She tapped her chin doubtfully.
"You didn't finally admit this sham relationship is, in itself, a sham, and make sweet, sweet love?"
"We did not," said Joey.
"Shame," replied Jen.
Joey scrolled on her phone to avoid Jen's leveled gaze. She hadn't checked her email for a few days. The inbox was full of advertisements and subscription reminders, amongst it sat an email from Beacon Press.
Joey scrolled the words.
"I got an interview!" she said, surprised.
"Of course you did," replied Jen.
"It's filling a maternity leave position, senior editor."
"In Boston?" Jen asked while shimmying into a lace slip.
Joey nodded.
"Is that what you want?"
Joey hesitated. A senior editor in publishing was the job she'd harbored dreams of since she was in college. When she'd sent in the application, it seemed like a long shot. But now that the request for an interview sat in her inbox, Joey wasn't sure she was ready to leave. Her time in Capeside had been like a long awaited summer vacation. It offered precious time to cleanse herself from the old Joey and find out exactly who the new Joey was going to be.
Jen continued, adjusting the straps, "I know I'm pushing the Pacey matter pretty hard, but more than anything, you need to make your own life a priority, Joey. I get that Bessie's here. You're making new friends here, but Boston isn't that far away. For the first time in your life, nobody gets to make the choices but you."
Quiet for a few moments, Joey finally said, "I want this job."
"Well, my dear, you best go to the interview."
Joey accepted the 9am Tuesday interview slot.
Joey and Jen arrived at prom arm in arm, twenty minutes late. Officially, they would blame it on the female prerogative to diligently tend to hair and makeup. But Joey was stalling, her every movement filled with apprehension. How long could she delay the inevitable confession to Pacey and the questions that it induced?
Why didn't she wake him? Why didn't she tell him what happened with Andie immediately? Why was her first instinct to run?
The Icehouse bore a sign that it was closed for a private function, blinds drawn. They entered to dimmed lights and an enormous disco ball that hung suspended from the ceiling. The tables near the bar were stacked in the far corner to allow a space for dancing.
The swishing of Jen's dress heralded their arrival, even over the music. After a morning of trawling every thrift shop in a fifty-mile radius, she'd finally selected a lemon yellow taffeta ball gown. It was off the shoulder and the ruched bodice was decorated with embroidered roses before it spilled out into layer after layer of tulle skirts.
When Jen tried it on, Joey was in awe.
"It's hideous," Joey said.
"I know, it's perfect!" Jen replied, spinning. "I'm getting a nineties Belle from Beauty and the Beast vibe."
When Joey presented her with a matching pillbox hat and veil, it sealed the deal and Jen was more than happy to part with the ten-dollar price tag.
Pacey had organized a limousine to collect the party's VIPs, Jack and Doug. Their selected outfits were delivered earlier in the day, along with pink carnation boutonniere. The men were gifted matching deep blue crushed velvet suits, crisp shirts and bow ties. The slight flare of the trouser leg suggested that they were a seventies relic and likely the set groomsmen once wore.
The men strolled around the growing collection of guests, offering hugs and outfit appreciation. Everyone had taken the costume directives in stride, and the crowd was adorned in a colorful assortment of polyester and ruffles. Lavish platters of assorted food were spread across the tables and guests sliced Camembert, figs and nuts, piling them high on tiny plates, enjoying the morsels as they circulated the room.
Sure, it was a bachelor party, and the first that Joey could ever have claimed to attend, but the celebration was rich with warmth. The conversations were close and the smiles genuine. The occasion was an homage to Jack and Doug's love and it filled Joey with a sense of belonging that she'd never once felt at a party in LA.
Jen squeezed Joey's gripped arm.
"There's your man," she said.
The disco ball was reflecting off Pacey, fragmenting into beads of light and temporarily blinding them. He was wearing a gold sequined tuxedo with a black lapel. With it he wore converse high tops and no shirt, the single button at his waist exposing his tanned chest and a dusting of chest hair. In his buttonhole he had a miniature pineapple and the young tips of palm fronds. He'd trimmed his beard short and his hair was pushed back.
"You're in big trouble," she said to Joey, not taking her eyes off Pacey.
"Why?"
"You really think you're going to go to prom with a man that looks like that? Dance with him, drink with him, all the while he's touching you like he's your boyfriend and nothing is going to happen."
If only Jen knew what had transpired in Pacey's closet.
Joey buzzed in Jen's ear, "My resolve is crumbling by the minute."
"I don't blame you."
Jack appeared to greet the women and compliment their prom dresses, while Pacey's gaze finally found them.
He crossed the room immediately, collecting drinks on the way and passing them each a glass of champagne.
"Hey," he muttered, kissing Joey on the mouth. It didn't have a tongue, but it was long enough that it couldn't be mistaken for a peck. She responded with a tight smile and clasped hands. Jen's jaw dropped.
"Ladies, you look incredible," said Pacey.
"Are you saying that because Joey is literally dressed like she raided your closet?" said Jack with a grin.
Pacey and Joey stole a stiff glance.
"No," said Jen, "It's because Joey is dressed as the female embodiment of him."
Jack nodded sagely. "Classic mirroring. Couples start to look like each other after a while. Sometimes, I wear aviator sunglasses and handcuffs just like Doug."
They all laughed.
Jen shuffled and swished behind Pacey. She put her arms around his torso. "I'd like to thank my parents, God, and most of all, the academy."
Joey and Jack sniggered.
"I'll have you know that the lady at the thrift store told me that this was Melvis Presley's costume, Massachusetts' number two Elvis impersonator," said Pacey.
"I'm pretty sure Elvis wore a shirt underneath," smiled Joey.
Pacey turned to Joey, wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling their faces close.
"Really, you of all people here are protesting my shirtlessness?"
Jack rolled his eyes and left the circle to socialize. Jen remained to watch with a single peaked eyebrow.
"I never said I was protesting. Observing is a better word."
"Observe all you want. But wait right here."
He released her and disappeared behind the bar.
"He sure is doing a lot of fake touching tonight," said Jen.
Joey shrugged. "Pacey is a naturally affectionate person."
He reappeared with two white boxes, opening one to reveal a miniature pineapple and palm frond corsage, just like his boutonniere.
"Every girl needs a corsage at prom," he said, by way of explanation.
"It's beautiful," replied Joey.
"It's a dwarf pineapple. To match your dress."
Pacey slipped it over her wrist, securing the ribbon.
"Joey! Your boyfriend got you a dwarf pineapple." Jen's voice was dripping with mirth.
Pacey turned to Jen in response and opened the next box. Inside there was a pale yellow corsage of Ranunculus and Baby's Breath.
"Joey told me you were wearing yellow," he said, pulling it out and placing it on Jen's wrist.
Jen was speechless, if only for a moment, before she glanced knowingly at the couple standing before her.
"I know you guys think this is just a rebound, but don't write each other off as a long term thing just yet. Relationships don't follow rules. Feelings don't either. It's okay to just see where things go."
Pacey wouldn't look at Joey.
"So you like the corsage?" He asked Jen.
"It's stupendous," she twirled her arm to view it from all angles.
Pacey smiled.
Joey danced with Jen, then Pacey. Thankfully, the songs were upbeat, the kind that forced you to flail arms and legs and staunched any likelihood of conversation.
In brief moments of quiet between songs, Pacey tried to engage, but Joey pulled away.
When a ballad began, Doug cut in between them, unknowingly rescuing her.
"Can I steal your girl for a dance?" Doug asked.
"As long as you promise to return her," Pacey replied with a grin.
Doug rested his hand on the small of Joey's back and held her close. She studied him, seeking a familial resemblance. Apart from the shared eye and hair color, Doug was simply a cleaner cut version of Pacey, with the same gracious smile and strong brow.
"I'm sorry that I couldn't rein in Pacey's outlandish party ideas. I was let in on the secret too late to tone it down," said Joey.
"Don't be. I don't think I've ever been able to predict exactly what Pacey will do next, but I know he will always operate with our best interests at heart," Doug replied.
"I bet you didn't expect to get such a dashing suit out of the deal," she joked.
Doug's hand left her back just long enough to smooth his velvet lapel. "True."
"There is a cheeseboard, as requested, so you've gotta give him that," said Joey.
He laughed softly. "We knew when we asked him to organize this that he would throw something lavish and crazy, but it's truly amazing. He's giving us the prom we never had."
"What do you mean?"
"They banned Jack from going to his prom with his boyfriend. The school only allowed male / female couples. I was supposed to go to mine, had the suit ready and everything, but I got mono a week before and spent senior prom in bed."
Joey frowned, "I'm sorry."
"Don't be. This prom is better than anything we would've had at high school. If I went, I would have had to maintain the farce that I was straight and if Jack went, well, he wouldn't have been accepted, not like today. Today we get our prom filled with our best friends and we get to be here together and just be exactly who we are."
Joey rested her head on Doug's shoulder, and he waited a minute before speaking again.
"I shouldn't say this, considering my ties with certain family members and not wanting to take sides. But I'm really pleased that you two found each other."
Joey's mind immediately drifted to Andie, her confession in Pacey's kitchen. "We aren't that serious, on account of our recent imploding relationships."
Doug leveled a strange look at her. "That's funny. Pacey seems pretty serious about you."
How to respond to this statement evaded her, so she just danced. Doug was a rudimentary partner, no twirling or anything more than a standard four step. But in the moment, that was all Joey could handle.
Before long, the song's melodies drifted to its coda, and they pulled apart. Pacey reappeared and took her hand in his, pressing his gilded body against hers.
"You talk to my brother, but you avoid talking to me," he said.
"I'm talking to you right now."
"Your eyes are scanning the room for an escape route. You're very good at avoidance," he said.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Joey replied.
He laughed, "case in point."
Pacey looked down at her, rocking to the music.
"Is everything okay?" he asked.
"Of course. It's fine."
He stopped dancing. "Will you come outside with me for a minute?"
Joey nodded and followed him out, succumbing to the inevitable. The back deck of the Icehouse was quiet this time of night. The briny scent of the marina sat amongst the never-ending warm heat. Music reverberated outside, its incessant thumps made the window panes vibrate with each hit of bass.
Pacey leaned against a banister, the gold jacket gaping open.
"I'm sorry about the other night," he said.
"What?"
"It was out of line, it was out of the scope of our arrangement -"
Joey held up her hand to silence him. "Seriously, Pace, you need to stop apologizing when things like that happen. That wasn't a problem at all. I agreed to that."
"Then what's wrong?"
She had been riding the almighty highs of seven minutes in his closet and the crushing lows of finding Andie in his kitchen the morning after for two days now. Without confiding in Jen, she had endured the consternation alone.
"Andie was at your house yesterday morning."
Pacey froze, "What?"
"She was delivering groceries in your kitchen." Joey said.
"Why?"
Joey sighed, and took a moment before answering, "Because she wants you back, Pace."
He ran a hand through his hair. "Hold on. Backup for a minute. I'm confused. When did this happen? Yesterday?"
"When you slept, I heard noises and thought it was you. When I came downstairs, she was there."
"In my house?"
Joey nodded.
"Is that why you left?"
Joey nodded again.
"Not because of what happened, you know, in the closet?"
Joey shook her head, "No."
Pacey exhaled and made a soft laugh from the back of his throat. "Why didn't you just tell me? Why did you run away? I thought you were mad. I thought you were having second thoughts."
"We had words. I wasn't kind," she said.
He smiled slowly. "Did you stand up for me, Joey Potter?"
This wasn't at all how she'd imagined this conversation unfolding. Joey thought Pacey would be upset; she thought a sadness would harrow his features, that he would lament the loss of Andie. But none of it was there at all.
"Pace, she wants you back."
He shrugged, impassive. "I know."
"What? You know ?"
"She texts me regularly, I don't reply. She has made it clear that she wants another chance."
Joey bit her lip. "Are you going to give her one?"
He only took a few seconds to reply, but those seconds were sluggish and Joey felt each of them with a swelling impatience.
"No." His reply was resolute.
"But you have such a history."
"Are you now trying to convince me to get back together with her after you defended my honor?" he asked.
"No."
"Then why would you say that?"
"Because that's what she said to me. She told me I couldn't compete with your history, that I was just a rebound. Six years, Pace. It's a lot. I get it."
The sleeping boats in their moorings watched them. Joey rubbed at her bare arms, but she wasn't cold.
"A few weeks ago, I considered it," Pacey said, expression inscrutable.
"And?"
"And, well, things changed."
"What changed?" Joey threw the words out like a dare.
Pacey didn't answer immediately. He chuckled instead, a strange nervous sound.
The door to the Icehouse flung open with force, hitting the wall with a crash. Jen stalked out on the hunt for Joey. Their heads spun in unison.
"JOEY POTTER! STRIPPERS!" she called with mild hysteria.
Her eyes then landed on Pacey and Joey alone and her excitement visibly waned.
"I didn't mean to interrupt the secret rendezvous," Jen backpedaled. "Continue canoodling, pretend I'm not here. Strippers aren't important."
"We just needed some air," said Pacey.
"I bet," smiled Jen.
"I take it from your excitement that the entertainment is here?" asked Pacey.
"I thought we were being raided by the cops, but then when I took into account the length of their hot pants and the size of their batons, I realized my mistake."
"Are they big batons?" Joey smirked.
Jen's smile was wide, "huge."
They followed Jen inside, and the show had already begun. Jack and Doug were in the center of the room, a circle formed around them. Def Leppard growled through the speakers to Pour Some Sugar On Me. The 'cops' were still clothed and tormenting the men with vehement gyration and exaggerated dance moves.
Pacey stood behind Joey, linking his arms around her waist to watch the show.
"Did you just pay for the happy couple's private show, or can anyone get in the hot seat?" Jen asked Pacey.
"I've paid for an hour."
Jen rubbed her hands together.
"Joey, you want to join me in the man-scrum?" she asked.
"Raincheck for me," Joey replied.
"Makes sense. You've got your own golden play toy."
Pacey chuckled.
Jen swished to the bar while they watched a flame-faced Doug rip the velcro pants off his dancer.
"He is plotting your murder right now," said Joey.
Pacey's fingertips followed the embroidered pineapple motif on her dress, tickling her midriff beneath. Desire grew deep in her belly, warm and dangerous.
"He can kill me. I'd die happy," he whispered into her ear.
A loaded tray was offered in their direction from the hand of Jen. Across it sat a dozen shot glasses of clear liquid.
"Drink up, lovers. It's time for the real fun to commence."
"Have I not provided enough entertainment for you, Miss Lindley?" Pacey asked, taking a glass and downing it without fanfare.
"You have, but I feel this will only enhance our enjoyment. And if I am to have a sweaty random man in a thong near my face, I'm going to need to be closer to drunk than tipsy."
Joey hesitated. "I think I'll pass."
Two dainty fingers clasped a glass and held it in Joey's face. "Negative. Joey Potter 2.0 doesn't pass. She relaxes, she drinks shots, and engages in general debauchery."
Pacey spoke to Jen, "Hey, only I'm allowed to invoke Joey 2.0."
"Incorrect. She was my friend first, so I get dibs on titles."
Joey took the glass, said, "shut up the both of you," and downed the burning liquid.
"Yay! Drunk Joey's going to come to play," Jen would have clapped if she wasn't balancing tequila precariously in her hands.
"Drunk Joey?" Pacey queried.
"Oh yeah, she's a great ball of repressed madness just waiting to come out. You'll like her."
Joey waved off her friend. "Drunk Joey doesn't exist. She's just me, somewhat chattier."
"Whatever you say," said Jen. Pacey looked worried.
Joey reached out and took three more shots from the tray, passed one to Jen, the other to Pacey.
"Are you ready?" she asked.
They each put the tiny glasses to their lips.
"Bottoms up!"
As it turned out, Joey did dance with the strippers. Everyone did. The male entertainment had invigorated the crowd, turning them from a gentle simmer to a boil. No more ballads boomed through the speakers. Familiar anthems had everyone singing in a tuneless symphony.
The bar tab escalated to terrifying heights. Thankfully, Pacey got the liquor at wholesale prices.
Drunk Joey was an incredible dancer, even in her gown.
A break in songs sent her in search of water, toddling behind the bar and through the doors to the kitchen. She didn't just want a glass of water; she wanted a pitcher of one. It was a narrow industrial kitchen, the kind where every surface was stainless steel and smelled faintly of abrasive cleaning products. She rifled through cupboards in the dark.
"Drunk Joey, is that you?" Pacey called out as she sent plastic containers crashing to the ground.
"I'm not drunk, I'm thirsty," she muttered, head in the storeroom. A standard reply of someone who was most definitely drunk.
"Come here," he said, "wouldn't, I don't know, behind the bar be the best place to find water?"
She eyed him skeptically.
Pacey pulled her from the storeroom and lifted her, depositing her backside on a stainless steel counter.
" Stay! " was his only directive.
"Yes boss," Joey saluted and her corsage slipped down to her elbow.
He disappeared and reappeared with a pitcher of ice water and two glasses.
"I'm not done drinking," she said. "I just needed some mid-alcohol hydration."
Joey gulped down the water and poured a second glass.
"Okay, I'm hydrated now. Make me something fruity and fantastic."
"Are you sure?" He asked.
She nodded.
"Will you stay here?"
She nodded again, swaying to the music.
At the bar, Pacey mixed pineapple juice, white rum, coconut cream and ice.
Strolling back, he presented Joey with the tropical beverage, complete with a tiny pink parasol. He'd made himself one too, resting it on the counter before heaving himself up in a quick jump beside her.
"Well, this is delicious," said Joey. The drink was the embodiment of a beachside vacation.
"Thank you."
"You really are the best, Pace," she said. "You're good at dancing, sailing, throwing parties, you make yummy food and beverages. You're an excellent fake rebound," she babbled, then her voice dropped. "Oh, and you give mind-blowing orgasms."
Pacey laughed, a little bashfully, "Why thank you. You're not too bad yourself, Potter."
"Well, I did offer to extend our seven minutes in heaven to fourteen and if you accepted you would have found out how good I can be."
"Is that so?"
"Uh-huh," she went for a provocative drink of the straw, but it evaded her mouth and almost hit her eyeball instead.
"I kind of wish I had a time machine," he sipped his pina colada, but didn't miss the straw.
"Dawson couldn't give me an orgasm to save his own life," she said.
Pacey wasn't sure how to respond to that confession, so he just drank more.
Joey took his silence as an invitation for further unsolicited sharing of personal information. "Imagine being married for that long and nothing , every time you get close. Poof, it's gone."
His face was serious. "I cannot imagine it."
"Well, I can tell you buddy, it was no picnic."
Pacey's leg swung to the side and nudged Joey's. "Don't call me buddy."
"Why?" She nudged his foot right back.
He shrugged, "I like it when you call me Pace."
She stared at his exposed chest, the way the gold suit fit him like a glove, tight against his biceps, square at the shoulders. No one, not even Elvis himself would look this good in a suit.
"Not babe?" She teased. "Schnookums?"
"Ha-ha."
"Does my fake rebound not enjoy pet names?" She leaned close and gave him a wide-eyed pout.
"What's wrong?"
"I've warned you before about giving me faces like that."
"Why, Pace? " She was egging him on.
He drained his glass in record time and slid off the counter and away from her.
"Because that face makes me lose any willpower I might have."
"Willpower for what?" She made the face more pronounced, drawing in a lower lip.
"I may be your fake boyfriend, but it makes me want to do real things to you."
Joey slurped through her straw, loudly, "Like?"
"Like drag you into a closet for seven more minutes."
Joey gulped.
"Anything else?"
" Everything else."
"So I better stop making this face, then?"
Pacey took a deep breath and nodded. "It would be advised, for your own safety."
Joey's saucer eyed face disappeared, and a grin replaced it. "We better go back into the party before we do something we can't undo," said Joey.
"Definitely."
She slid off the counter, grabbed his hand in hers, and led him out of the kitchen. But just as they reached the doors, she stopped.
"Uh oh," said Pacey, keenly awaiting her next announcement.
"Before, outside, I asked you why a few weeks ago you decided you didn't want to repair things with Andie and you said something changed. What changed?"
He screwed up his nose. "Can't we just leave well enough alone?"
"You wanted Drunk Joey, now you can't handle her," she wagged her finger.
Pacey groaned.
"What changed your mind, buddy ?" she repeated.
A finger reached out and booped her nose. "You did, buddy ."
Joey's face was the epitome of alcoholic confusion. "Little old me?"
He chuckled, "Yes, little old you. You reminded me that I didn't need to dwell on someone like Andie. That there are incredible people out there, and that someday, I might find someone just like you."
"Like me ?"
" Exactly like you," he said, green eyes clearer than they should be for a man with pina colada in his veins.
Joey hesitated for a moment, flicked her hair, and opened the door. The dance floor awaited.
The group of five piled into Doug's police cruiser. Deputy Steve had offered to take guests home so they weren't tempted to drive under the influence. He dropped them off at Pacey's house in varying states of disrepair. The suits had lost their sheen, and the corsages sat limp, flowers wilting.
"Anyone want a drink? I've got beers, tequila… gin," Pacey asked as they crossed the threshold into his lounge.
Jack and Doug groaned, shuffling like zombies.
"I have to be on a plane in fifteen hours," said Jen, "so I'll only have one more."
Joey, Jack and Doug collapsed on the couch and Cat Stevens sauntered into the room, tail pointing to the sky.
"Hey kitty," Jen leaned down and scooped Cat into her arms.
"No!" called Joey, but it was too late. Cat was in her clutches, nestled in the crook of her neck like a baby.
"What the actual fuck?" said Pacey, standing in the doorway, drinks in hand.
Joey shook her head in amazement.
"Don't suppose you'd like to give him his medication since apparently, you are the cat whisperer?" Pacey asked.
Jen said, "sure," and Pacey collected the tablets and the gloves.
He gave directions regarding the required placement to ensure a swallow instead of a gag.
She disregarded the gloves, stroked his fur, and slipped the tablets down with such ease that Pacey and Joey simply watched awestruck.
The three of them drank beside a passed out Doug. Jen devoured a sleeve of Pringles and potato crumbs rained down on an unperturbed Cat who curled into the skirts of her dress. They shared tales of proms gone by and laughed until Joey felt the cornices of the room bow and fuzz, losing their crisp edge. She would pay for their night of excess consumption tomorrow, of that she was sure.
"I'm beat. Is there anywhere I can crash?" said Jen.
"Sure, I'll make up the spare room. It's only a futon, but it's not too uncomfortable," replied Pacey. "Jack, are you and Doug okay with the couch? It's got a pullout bed."
Doug stirred on his fiance's shoulder, Jack cracked open a foggy eyelid and nodded.
Jen deposited Cat Stevens onto his pedestal, kissed his fluffy ears, and the three of them made their way upstairs.
"Damn that tasty champagne," Jen muttered, scrabbling for the wall. The women used each other for support to traverse the stairs, taking unsteady steps laced with giggling.
"Thanks for an epic party, Pacey," said Jen.
"My pleasure," he replied, fussing with the bed.
It was in that distorted moment that Joey realized Jen's long game. Jen on the futon, the guys on the couch. Pacey and Joey were a couple, of course they'd share a bed.
Joey glanced at her friend, who was teetering back and forth as she attempted to stand still.
"I'm onto you," Joey pushed an accusatory finger in Jen's shoulder.
Jen whispered as she watched Pacey attempt to tuck the sheet at the corners, "Just think of it this way. You're Cinderella and I'm your fairy godmother."
Joey cocked an eyebrow, and murmured back, "Was her fairy godmother a meddling, five foot tall, pain in the ass who thinks forcing Cinderella to sleep in the same bed as Prince Charming is helpful?"
"No, I'm pretty sure she just meddled with pumpkins, rats and lizards, so consider yourself lucky."
Joey shoved Jen with her shoulder playfully and asked, "When are you going home again?"
She dropped her lip and glanced at the time on her phone, 2am. "Technically, today."
They both frowned dramatically and drunkenly.
Pacey appeared beside them, gesturing to the bed. "Your bedchamber, Miss Lindley."
She waddled over and flopped onto the sheets in a taffeta pouf. Pacey excused himself while Joey unzipped Jen's dress, unbuckled her shoes and tucked her into bed.
"I sleep like the dead, Joey. I'll be lights out, won't hear a thing!" Jen already had her eyes closed.
"You are relentless," Joey flicked off the light.
"I know."
Joey stumbled to the bathroom where Pacey was brushing his teeth. She collected the toothbrush from the holder that he'd diligently supplied the night of their first sleepover and clumsily squeezed toothpaste on it. He was still in his gold suit, her still in the dress. They brushed in unison, rinsed, all the while eyes locked on each other in the mirror.
Joey dried her face on a towel. "Don't suppose you've got another spare bed in the house?"
Pacey shook his head, "only one bed left."
Then he turned and walked towards his bedroom. Joey followed.