"What the hell is going on here?"
Bessie's voice breaks through the fog of delight which had clouded my brain from the moment Pacey moved his lips to my neck. How did I never realize that something so simple could feel so good? Pacey scrambles frantically away from me and stumbles slightly as he tries to stand. His eyes are wide and wary, and he shoves his hands deep in his pockets, looking at the ground for a second, taking a deep breath. I stand too, also trying to slow my breathing and my racing heart, which is beating so loudly Bessie must be able to hear it. I glance at Pacey and see that he is still watching me. His eyes glance briefly down at my mouth before gazing into my eyes, afraid and seeking re-assurance. I am still so overcome by what just happened that I cannot give him what he asks for, and I see bitter disappointment start to drift onto his face when Bessie's voice again pulls our bizarre fascination with each other. "Pacey!" she snaps. Pacey steps farther away from me and faces Bessie.
"I'm sorry, Bessie," he says in a low voice, and he cannot quite hide the tremor in his words. "That was my fault. You shouldn't have had to see that. I kissed Joey; she was just pushing me away." I can't look at him anymore. We both know that that was far from the case; I kissed him, and I definitely egged him on rather than rebuffed him. His willingness to protect me astounds me, my astonishment making me even less able to comment on the situation. I am ashamed of my weak willingness to go with his story, knowing what it will cost him in my sister's eyes. I know he enjoys the respect and acceptance he gets from my family, and it is a shock to see him put that at risk. Watching Bessie, I can see that she doesn't know whether to believe him or not. She can't have mistaken what she saw when she walked in, and she must know that when I uttered his name it was most certainly not in protest, but she also is not sure why Pacey would lie about this. She hasn't had enough exposure to the Witter Knight in Shining Armour persona. Deciding, for now at least, to take him at his word, she glares at him.
"I'm very disappointed in you, Pacey. I've always trusted you in my house, and you repay that how? I come home to find you mauling my little sister!" I see Pacey wince out of the corner of my eye, and I glance at him to see that he looks positively ill. I am paralyzed by indecision; do I speak up? Do I leave this be? Bessie temporarily makes up my mind for me by speaking again, this time to me. "I'm going to go help put Alexander down, and when I get back, you had better be alone here, young lady." With that, she stormed out of the room.
I look back at Pacey. He is standing still with his eyes closed, misery written plainly across his face. "Pace?" I whisper. I am afraid to speak too loudly, for fear of seeming hostile, but I am also afraid to touch him again. He doesn't move. "Pacey, I'm sorry," I start, seeing him open his eyes and turn slightly to me as I speak. "Look, none of that was your fault. I was the one who kissed you, and--" I break off as his fingers cover my mouth.
"Shh, Jo," he says quietly. "Don't worry about it. It's ok. Right now I'm not too sure what just happened here, and I don't think you know either, so maybe tonight we should go our separate ways and talk about this tomorrow when our heads are a bit clearer." I nod cautiously. He's still gazing at me, as though trying to decide whether or not to tell me something. He's so tense he is almost shaking, and he takes a deep breath. He steps a bit closer to me and takes my hands in his. "Look, I didn't want to say it this way, and I don't want you to think I'm putting any pressure on you, because I'm not. I don't expect anything from you, Jo. But before you go off and talk to Bessie, and dismiss this as adolescent hormones boiling over, I want you to know that I love you." I gasp and shake my head, but he keeps talking. "I don't know when it started, but I have for a long time, and I tried so hard to stop, but it wouldn't go away, and I can't do it any more. I can't not love you. And I know you don't love me, and that's ok. But this meant something to me, and you deserved to know that." I blink.
"Pacey, I don't know what to say," I start to say, and he sighs, and to my surprise he smiles affectionately at me.
"I know," he says, reaching up to run one hand down my hair. "I know." His touch starts my heart beating faster again. Somehow I have become hypersensitive to him, so that now even the slightest touch makes me shiver. "I know," he says again, so quietly that I think this time he meant it only for himself. He steps back and I feel colder than I had a moment before. "I'll talk to you tomorrow," he says, and turns away. In that instant I know that I need more from him than that. I reach out quickly and grab his hand.
"One more," I whisper, as I kiss him again, my other hand reaching out to cup his cheek. He makes a noise somewhere between a sigh and a moan that I find entirely too endearing, and clutches my hand, which somehow also makes my heart flutter, before stepping a fraction closer and resting his other hand lightly on the small of my back. This time he is careful and gentle, and somehow one kiss melts into another, and another. My sense of time again vanishes and I lean more into him, wrapping one arm around his neck. He tries to wrap his arms around me, and our unwillingness to release each others' hands causes my arm to be bent slightly awkwardly behind my back but the discomfort barely registers. My haze of pleasure is interrupted again by Bessie's angry voice, and I come crashing back down to reality as I realize that my sister has just walked in on me making out with Pacey for the second time in one evening. I leap back, wiping my palms on my jeans as I look from Bessie's furious glare to Pacey's wide, stunned eyes. His mouth is slightly open and he's having trouble catching his breath.
"Goodnight, Pacey," says Bessie, pointedly. He backs towards the door, almost tripping over the couch before turning and rushing away. Bessie waits until she hears the front door close before she speaks again. "So," She begins. "Was that all Pacey's fault too?"