One Week

His mouth was hot, so hot. It felt so good, so warm, so…hot. So hot.

He pulled away, just for a moment, and she couldn't help a tiny whimper that rose in her throat. He didn't seem to hear it.

"Did you feel anything?"

She was about to say of course, of course she did, because it was the best kiss of her life and she thought she loved him. But she opened her eyes first, looked into his eyes first, and saw that they were blank, neutral, and without any passion at all.

"No," she said. Yes. "Nothing. I didn't feel anything." It felt so good.

"Me neither."

She nodded, and tried to catch her breath.

"So…should we give it up?"

No! "Do you want to?" she asked, her voice as cool as it could be with her heart still pounding.

"I just…I don't know. It seemed like such a good idea—just having fun, no emotions involved, right?" Pacey said, and ran his hands through his hair. She felt the absence of his arms around her, and shivered. "But now…"

"Let's give it a week," she said. "See if anything happens." It will. He'll feel it, has to feel it, has to feel what I feel…

"Fine. A week. Seven more days. Sounds good," he said, and gave her a friendly hug. She closed her eyes and tried not to tighten her arms around him. After a moment, he pulled away and started pulling on his shoes.

"So what about that math homework, huh? That was really killer."

She tried to concentrate on breathing.

"Jen?"

She looked up. He had stopped tying his shoes and was looking at her with concerned, compassionate eyes.

Just having fun. No emotions involved…right?

"Yeah." She shook herself, let her eyes refocus on his face. The sun through the bedroom window gave him a warm glow. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Seven more days.