A/N: This chapter contains sexually explicit material.
April 14. Easter Weekend had kicked off spring break and brought the Capeside Family Fun Fair to the waterfront. The warm Saturday afternoon was going well. For the second year in a row, Pacey was able to escape duty at the Captain Skippy booth. The Sheriff's Department had roped in some other kid to be their lackey for the day. This year, he was able to hang around the tent that was set up for local artists to display their work, and Joey was once again invited to participate.
Many visitors to the tent mentioned her mural, as the local paper had mentioned it recently in an article promoting the revitalizing of the downtown area. It turned out to be her most successful year yet at the fair, selling quite a few paintings as well as drawings. "How much do you think that naked picture you drew of me would sell for?" he murmured in her ear.
She grinned, blushing. "I don't know. It's priceless."
"Where is it, by the way?" he asked curiously.
"I taped it on the ceiling above my bed. You never noticed?"
He started laughing. Then he noticed his sisters walking by the booth and smiled. Amy and her family had come up from North Carolina on Friday for a long weekend. While some kids from Joey's AP Studio Art class approached her, he walked out of the tent to join his sisters.
"Gretchen. Hey, Amy!"
They turned to see him coming towards them. Amy smiled and gave him a half-hug. "Hey, little brother. How are ya?"
"I'm good. How are you? How're the kids?"
"Oh, we're all doing good."
His eyes roamed over Amy, taking in her tight ripped black jeans and Nirvana T-shirt, and wondered if she was dressed like that in part to piss off their parents. Probably. "How was the flight?"
"Ugh. I hate flying. It is what it is. Better than driving."
"So, uh, Pacey… have you told Joey that you want to go to MCLA yet?"
Clenching his jaw, he turned his head and glared at Gretchen. "No, I haven't, and I'm not going to."
His sister frowned. "You're making a big mistake, Pacey. You'll only regret it later."
"I'll never regret choosing Joey."
Amy glanced between them. "What's going on? Someone fill me in, please."
Gretchen huffed and crossed her arms. "As you know, Pacey was accepted to MCLA in the fall."
"Yeah…"
"And he would like to go, but Joey was accepted to Worthington—"
"Wow."
"Yeah. And Pacey was gonna move to Boston to be with her, but Worthington denied her financial aid and what she'll have to pay each year is more than her family can afford. She was accepted to BU and Williams, and Williams is—"
"Close to MCLA, isn't it?" Amy said.
"Yep. But Pacey won't tell her he wants to go to MCLA."
"So, what is she going to do about Worthington? Or is she gonna go to BU instead?"
His sisters turned their gaze on him. Glancing over his shoulder at the artists' tent, he took a deep breath. He may as well tell them. Gretchen would've found out soon enough, anyway. "I'll tell you if you promise not to say anything to anybody. I mean it. Not a word to anyone. Not Mom or Dad. Not Doug. Not your husband. Not your best friend. Not your priest. You understand?"
"I promise," Amy replied, fighting a grin.
"Me too. I promise."
He shook his head. "No. That's not good enough. A real promise."
His sisters looked at each other, and then each put up their right hands, holding up three fingers, making the familiar sign. "Scout's honor," they said in unison.
"The money I've saved up is enough to pay for Joey's first year at Worthington. It'll at least get us to Boston, and then we'll work her way through school."
Gretchen's jaw dropped. Amy's eyes went wide, and then she looked at him skeptically. "Are you sure that's what you want to do with your money, Pacey?" his second eldest sister asked.
"Yes."
"Pacey, I can't believe you," Gretchen seethed. "You're throwing your whole future away for a high school girlfriend who you probably won't even be dating a year from now."
He set his jaw and glared at her. His stomach clenched. "What did you just say?"
His sister rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on, Pace. High school relationships rarely ever survive the transition to college."
Eyes wide, he looked at Amy for support, but she pursed her lips and shrugged. "She's… kinda right, Pacey. You'll probably be completely different people four years from now. You'll both grow and change a lot, and… you know, teenage romances don't usually survive those changes."
He had no idea what to say to that. He only felt a sinking feeling in his chest. Then he remembered. "Amy, you married Steve two weeks after you graduated high school," he said accusingly.
She looked caught for a second. "Yes, but Pacey, we didn't go to college. Steve joined the Coast Guard. His life was regimented, structured, and he came home to me almost every night. He matured quickly. We both grew up together. If he had gone to your average college, or if we'd both gone to different colleges…" She sighed. "You know, dorm life, parties, fraternities and sororities and all those campus experiences, not to mention the stress and pressure of the workload… we probably wouldn't have survived that at so young an age."
"Well, I don't think things will be that different than they are now, Amy. Joey and I both will be in Boston. She'll have her classes and I'll work. We'll see each other all the time. We'll be fine."
"You're giving Joey your money, and for what?" Gretchen demanded. "What do you get out of it, Pacey? How does this help your future?"
"It gets us both the hell out of Capeside, and it gets us to Boston, which had been our plan all along. I don't see why that plan has to change when I have the means to make it happen. I'm going to do just fine in Boston. You'll see. Or do you think that the only way I can make a success of anything is if I go to college, and if I don't, I'll just be a loser who fails at life?"
Gretchen closed her eyes and sighed. "Of course not, Pacey."
"No one's saying that, Pace," Amy agreed. "You're not a loser. We love you, okay? We just want you to think about your choices and seriously consider all your options."
"I have. My decision is made. Please respect it." His sisters frowned and then begrudgingly nodded their acquiescence. "And respecting it means not making comments about it, especially to Joey."
Looking away from him, Gretchen shook her head.
"I mean it, Gretchen. Don't go giving her your opinions about me and MCLA or Worthington and my money. Don't go guilt tripping her and making her feel bad. I'm serious. Don't."
She heaved a sigh and her gaze met his. He could see in her eyes that she was relenting. "Okay, I won't. I promise. Scout's honor. It's your life, Pacey. You do what you want with it. I just hope you know what you're doing."
Amy reached out and placed her hands on his arms. "Anyway, changing the subject now. Are you coming to Easter dinner tomorrow?"
He pulled a face. "No. I'll be at Joey's house with her family. Do you honestly expect me to sit at the table with Dad and act like everything's cool?"
"Pacey, none of us had an easy time with Dad when we were growing up. Well, except Doug, maybe, but then again, he's now sexually suppressed to the point of neurosis. The point is, Pacey, is that eventually we all realized that Dad is just a flawed man with a bunch of problems and none of that is our fault and we got over it. You should feel sorry for him, honestly. And you're not helping things get better between you and Mom and Dad by ignoring them."
"You don't know what it was like, Amy. You weren't around. I'm sure if Dad put you in the hospital by breaking your arm because you spilled paint in the living room, you'd feel a little differently about sitting around the table eating dinner with him."
His sister's eyes went round as quarters and then she looked at Gretchen for confirmation. "Did you know?"
"Yes, I knew," Gretchen replied. "But what could I do? I was just sixteen. And who would believe our word against the sheriff?"
"I don't understand. Why not tell Mom? She might've done something about it if she knew the truth. I remember her calling me to tell me Pacey broke his arm by falling out of a tree."
Pacey stared at her. "Mom knew, Amy. She lied. She always lies for him. She backs him up in everything. If you think that incident was the one and only time, think again."
Tears filled his sister's eyes. "Well, did you tell Doug?"
"Doug was a jerk. He didn't treat me much better back then. But what could he have done, anyway? He was busy being the shiny new deputy, being Dad's golden boy."
"Well, I think it's been established that Doug has a lot of problems himself," Gretchen said.
Amy's lower lip trembled. "Why didn't you call me, Pacey?" she asked, her voice shaking with emotion. "You should've called me and asked for help. I would've come up here immediately, packed up your stuff, and got you far away from Dad. You could've come down to Wilmington to live with me." She turned to Gretchen and smacked her arm. "And you! Why didn't you tell me that shit was happening to our brother?"
"I didn't think it would do any good, as you were like a thousand miles away, and I didn't want to make things worse for him. Who knows what Dad would do if he was actually confronted about it?"
Pacey rubbed his sister's arm reassuringly. "I appreciate what you would've tried to do for me, Amy, but I wouldn't have gone with you, even if you did try to get me out. There was no way I would've ever left Dawson and Joey to go live somewhere else, somewhere so far away and a place I'd never been to before. I needed them too much, and I had a pretty good life with them, despite what was happening at home. I wouldn't have walked away from the security of that, not knowing what I would be walking into."
"Is there anything I can do now?"
"Yes. Everyone can stop trying to get me to play nice with Mom and Dad. I need distance from them right now. Can you all please try to understand that?" He threw a pointed look at Gretchen.
Taking a deep breath, Amy nodded. "Well, I still want to see more of you while I'm up here. We fly back home on Monday. Do you have plans tonight? Let's do something. Your nephews wanna see you, too."
"That's me," he grinned. "The fun one. I mean, who wants to sit and papier mâché with Uncle Doug when they can wrestle with Uncle Pacey?"
"My boys adore you, and so do Carrie's girls. We should take the kids out and have fun later. Let's take 'em to mini golf and then go out to eat somewhere. You can bring your kid that you're mentoring. What's his name? The one you told me about last time I was up here?"
"Buzz." He shrugged in defeat and smiled. "Okay. That would be nice. I do have to be at the train station to pick up my friend Will at nine, so whatever we do will have to be finished in time for me to get him."
"Great." Then she frowned, her face full of sadness, and he could see Amy was holding back tears with difficulty. "I'm so sorry, Pacey."
She pulled him into a tight hug. A warm feeling surged through his body as his sister hugged him. In his mind all that he could imagine was that the experience was long overdue. The Witters weren't really a huggy kind of family, and he could only remember ever receiving them from Gretchen. Again, he found himself wishing Amy didn't live so far away and that she came home more often.
Later that night, Pacey found himself at the train station in Hyannis, holding hands with Joey, waiting for the nine o'clock train from New Raleigh. He glanced at his black Casio watch and then looked at his girlfriend. "It's late," he said.
"Is it ever on time?" she remarked with a grin.
When the train did arrive, there was a mad scrum as passengers jostled to get on while others were still trying to get off. Pacey remembered how it used to be when he was a kid, those few times he'd gone to the station with his mother to pick up his aunt and cousins when they came to the Cape to visit: people wanting to get on would stand aside and wait patiently until all those who wished to get off had done so. Somewhere along the line, that little civility had fallen by the wayside.
Suddenly, they were approached by a middle-aged couple with thick New York accents, asking for directions to a platform where they were supposed to meet friends arriving from Boston. After Joey helped them out, the husband complained of how long it took then to reach Cape Cod, hating the traffic on the bridges. "Are you locals, by any chance?" he asked them.
"Yeah, we're Year-Rounders," Pacey replied. Then his mouth curved into a mischievous grin. "You know, there's a faster way to get on and off the Cape."
Joey pursed her lips to stop herself from smiling and cleared her throat as she stared down at her shoes.
The couple looked intrigued. "Really? We've been coming here every year since I retired, and we've never heard of any way other than the bridges."
"You gotta take the Tunnel."
"Tunnel?" the man's wife replied. "We've never heard of a tunnel."
"Yep. The Cape Cod Canal Tunnel. It's mostly reserved for locals, but you can buy permit tickets for it here in town."
The couple expressed their gratitude and then bid them goodbye. Pacey turned to Joey and snickered. "Tourists," he muttered with disdain, and she laughed.
"How long do you think they'll drive around looking for the Tunnel before they finally realize it doesn't exist?"
He shrugged. "Let's hope a good long while."
Then he concentrated on the crowd and it wasn't long before he saw Will Krudski. The two friends laid eyes on each other and smiled as they approached each other. Pacey pulled him into a hug. "Hey, man. How're you doing?"
"I'm good, Pacey. You?"
"I'm really good."
"Good to see you, Joey," he told her, and they shook hands. "Thanks for letting me spend spring break with you guys again."
"Hey, man, anytime," Pacey replied. "Maybe we'll make a tradition out of it."
Soon they were heading for the parking lot. Once Will and his duffel bag were in the backseat of the Witter wagon, they started heading for Capeside. "So, uh, how's things with the girlfriend?" Pacey asked, glancing at him in the rearview mirror.
"Oh, me and Caroline broke up over a month ago."
"Oh, no. Really? I'm sorry."
"Yeah. It's okay. She started tutoring this other student, Gregor. He's the misunderstood bad boy of Rawley Academy, and well… that was that." He paused, glancing nervously up at the rearview mirror. "But, um, Andie's been writing me."
Pacey stared at him for a second. "She has? From Italy?"
"Yeah. At first, she was just sending the occasional postcard, but for the past month I've been getting a letter every week."
"Are you writing her back?"
Will blushed and looked out the window. "Uh, yeah."
Pacey looked over at Joey with raised brows, and she smirked at him. "So, uh, Will," she said, turning to glance over her shoulder. "How is Andie doing? We haven't heard from her lately. I think she emails her brother a lot, but she doesn't contact us that much."
"She's good. Great. She loves Italy, but she's looking forward to coming home."
"Do you know when she'll be back?"
Inexplicably, Will blushed again. "She said she wants to be home in time to go to her prom. Um… I assume you guys are going to prom?"
Joey nodded. "Yeah."
"Did you find a tuxedo yet, Pace?"
"No, not yet. We've got fitting appointments at the tuxedo shop at the mall on Wednesday."
"We?"
"Yeah. Me and Jack and Dawson." A sneaking suspicion came over him. "Er, uh, what about you? Are you planning on going to Rawley's prom?"
"Well, I don't really care to watch Gregor parade Caroline around a hotel ballroom and then head to one of the upper floors to a rented room, so the answer would be no." Will cleared his throat. "But, um… Andie asked me to be her date to Capeside's prom… and I said yes."
Joey turned a big smile on him. "That's great! You guys should definitely ride in the limo with us."
Pacey grinned. "Are you and Andie dating now?"
"No," Will replied quickly. "But, you know, I guess we'll see how things go at the prom."
"Andie's gonna be at Harvard in the fall," Joey told him.
"Yeah, I know."
While she thought Andie and Will would be cute together, she also didn't know why two people would embark on a possible relationship knowing they would have to be separated in just a few short months, and almost every story she'd ever heard about long-distance relationships ended badly. "Are you planning on college?" she asked Will.
"I should hope so," Pacey said. "Otherwise, getting into that fancy boarding school was for nothing."
A smile spread across Will's face. "I, uh, I was accepted to Boston College."
Pacey returned his smile in the rearview mirror. "That's great, man. Congrats. Go Eagles!"
His friend chuckled. "Yeah. Go Eagles."
"We'll be in Boston, too. Joey got into Worthington."
Will stared, obviously impressed. "Wow. Good for you, Joey."
"Thanks."
"You get in anywhere, Pacey?"
Her mouth curving into a slight frown, Joey glanced over at him behind the steering wheel. A twinge of guilt stabbed at her. Guilt over being his number one priority, over everything else he had going for him, when he could do so much more with his life. Guilt over the money he was going to give up so she could go to her dream school.
"Uh, not in Boston," he told Will. "College was never gonna be my thing, ya know? But I, uh, have some prospects in the city and I think everything will work out. Me and Jo will be together, and that's what's most important. Sucks she'll have to live on campus her first year, but hopefully I'll be able to find a roommate that's not too terrible. And it's only a year, right? Well, nine months, technically. That's not too bad."
He looked over at her and smiled, and she returned his smile, but the guilt still plagued her.
When they arrived at the weathered old beach house, they hung out in the living room for about half an hour before Will started yawning. Then Pacey showed him up to his bedroom before taking a pillow and blanket downstairs and tossing them to one end of the couch. He made himself comfortable in the living room while Joey got a couple glasses and took out a bottle of soda from the fridge. As she carried the glasses to the living room, Pacey scooted over to make room for her. After handing him a glass, she picked up the television remote. Hitting the Guide button, she started scrolling through their options. They agreed on the ABC Saturday night movie, Romeo + Juliet, and sat back to watch.
She leaned against his shoulder as he put his arm around her. Then she tucked her legs up and to the side of her, allowing her to snuggle more deeply into him. She was taking slow, deep breaths as she tried to inhale his intoxicating scent, dizzying feelings of euphoria in her head. She wanted to kiss him. She wanted the kiss to become something more. She wished Will wasn't upstairs.
Pacey began to absently fiddle with her hair as they watched the movie. Joey got goosebumps and hoped he wouldn't notice. The last thing they needed was to get carried away down there on the couch, where they could be interrupted by Will at any moment. In any case, she was having a hard time paying attention to Leonardo DiCaprio and Claire Danes as her thoughts kept wandering. She soon gave up trying.
Her right hand was resting on his left thigh. She began to run her fingers lightly in vague patterns back and forth. She tried to make it seem as casual and absentminded as his fingers in her hair, but she couldn't help but notice the sudden hitch in his breath and the briefest of pauses in his own hand movements. She wondered if he was paying any attention to the movie either, or, if like herself, he was just enjoying the quiet alone time they were sharing.
She felt his eyes on her and turned to look at him. He was smiling, his blue eyes sparkling. After first brushing a stray strand of hair from her forehead, his fingers trailed softly down along her jawline. The resulting goosebumps caused her to shiver slightly. He noticed and grinned.
"Joey?" he asked softly.
"Mm-hmm?" she responded, almost trance-like.
"It's too bad this is gonna be a much different week than winter break," he said to her, smirking.
She sighed deeply. "Well, we very well couldn't kick Gretchen out of her own house again, and it's not like you'd ever turn Will down."
He glanced at his watch. "You want me to drive you home?"
About fifteen minutes later, he was parking the Witter wagon in her driveway. As Joey unbuckled her seatbelt, she leaned over and kissed him. "Wanna come inside for a while," she whispered against his mouth, her mouth curving into a suggestive smirk as she pulled away from him.
"Yes, I do, Miss Potter," he murmured before kissing her on her lips, a slow ardent kiss, full of promise.
"Wait a bit and then come to my window."
Pacey watched her walk through her front door and then waited a few minutes. Turning off the car, he lowered the visor slightly and tossed his keys in their usual holding spot. He walked around the front of the house, bypassing the back porch, and around to the other side. With a smile, he saw she'd left her window open for him. Then he climbed inside and silently lowered the window closed. "Hey," he whispered, smiling as he saw her sitting up in bed, still wearing her bra.
"Hi."
"I haven't had to sneak into your bedroom in a while, Potter."
"The benefits of renting your own beach house," she said, and drew back the sheet, inviting him in.
After tossing his long-sleeved shirt to the floor and kicking off his shoes, he removed his jeans and crawled onto her mattress to lay down next to her. They kissed hungrily until they were breathless. They kissed until they couldn't stand it any longer, and soon the rest of their clothes began to come off and they were fully engaged in the act of making love.
Pacey rolled off her, and after she handed him a tissue, he pulled Joey against his side and held her close. A pleasant hum vibrated through his body. The euphoria inside him felt magical, like it always did, and he could damn near believe it would stay with him forever. Those final moments of thrusting inside her, of her body clenching around him, of her soft breasts pressed against his chest, her moans of pleasure in his ears, always transported him to a place he'd never known existed before being with her. It was a feeling he knew he could never have with anyone else. Just the two of them. Together. He would never get enough of it.
He kissed the top of her head as she flipped a leg over his thigh and stretched an arm across his chest, snuggling in deeper.
She kissed his shoulder blade as his fingers caressed up and down her back, and played with her hair before returning to her skin. His touch wasn't overtly sexual, but she could see his softening erection and her body hummed with satisfaction, ready to flare back to life for another round if only she wasn't feeling equally ready to simply tuck herself into his warm embrace and sleep.
"I feel… fantastic."
His chest shook with breathless laughter. "Me too."
The pleasant, hazy feelings of bliss filling her mind gradually became replaced with the now-familiar feelings of guilt, and she frowned as she pressed her lips against his soft skin. "Bessie and Bodie really appreciate you offering to make Easter dinner for us tomorrow."
"I'm happy to do it."
"Are you sure you don't want to go to your house instead? I mean, your sister Amy's home… so you'd get to hang out with her some more, and you wouldn't have to cook at all. Your mom would do all the cooking."
He turned his head and gave her a sarcastic look. "You think I'd rather be at my parents' house than here with your family? I'd gladly cook a hundred Easter dinners anywhere else than sit at my Mom's dining table and endure that horror show."
She smiled. "You really like cooking, don't you?"
"Yeah, Jo, I do. I love it, actually. Out of everything else in my life, other than when I'm with you, it makes me feel the happiest. And watching you eat something I cooked? That's a great feeling."
"Why do you like it so much?" To her surprise, she realized she'd never asked him this question before.
He took a deep breath. "Well… cooking makes me feel good. I'm free of my everyday thoughts, worries… other stuff I'd rather not have on my mind. You know, there's just me and the food, no rights, no wrongs. It clears my head of everything else. And then the other side of it…" His throat tightened with emotion.
"Well, some of my earliest memories of feeling loved, feeling like someone actually cared about me, revolve around the Ice House and your parents feeding me. I remember one time—I think I was apologizing for showing up yet again after closing and asking for a grilled cheese sandwich—your mom said that your dad loved people, and he loved feeding people, and he loved seeing people enjoy his cooking, so there was nothing to apologize for. I guess… I feel the same way when I see people eat something I've made and enjoy it. It's, uh, a sense of instant gratification for the work I did. You know, like applause when you're on stage or something."
Joey kissed his shoulder again. Not matter what he said, no matter what he'd decided about Boston and his money, and no matter how long it took, she'd find a way to pay him back, and she would find a way for them both to have the future they wanted.
Pacey watched as her eyes began to drift closed. He shifted out from under her and leaned down to kiss her forehead as he pulled the covers up over her shoulder. "I gotta get home, Jo. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Mmm… okay," she mumbled sleepily, keeping her eyes closed. "Love you."
He smiled and kissed her again. "I love you, too."
Then he quietly got dressed, and after turning off her bedroom light, he went back out her window.
April 15. While Pacey sat on the couch watching The Simpsons, his sister walked in the front door and start busying herself in the kitchen without saying a word to him in greeting. She was unusually quiet, and there was something about her body language that signaled something was not quite right. He got up off the couch and moved into the kitchen, leaning back against the fridge. She stood with her back to him, banging an ice tray against the unyielding sink.
"Hey, Gretch, are you all right?"
She reached for a glass and shoveled some ice cubes into it before filling the glass with water. "How was dinner at the Potters' house?"
"It was good. Will ate like a bull—or is it a pigeon? I can never remember which one eats twice their weight in food every day. Anyway, he's zonked out upstairs in a food coma."
"Well, you missed an interesting Easter dinner, Pace." She finally turned to look at him as she took a sip of her water.
He grimaced as he moved towards her. "Yeah?"
Gretchen shook her head in annoyance. "Dad was in fine form, as usual. He started griping about anything and everything, especially that you weren't there for the family dinner, and, uh, Amy…" She sighed heavily. "Well, you know she has a temper. She was stewing all day and by the time we were all sitting around the table, she'd had enough. There was only so much of Dad's bitchin' she could take and then she just… in front of everyone, she starts yelling at him."
"About what?"
"You. What he's done to you. Why it's his own fault you weren't there for Easter dinner. She threw it all in his face, and she threw it in Mom's face, too. Mom was beside herself, saying she couldn't believe you would say such things, that things weren't as bad as you always made them out to be. Steve was sitting there speechless. Carrie ended up taking the kids out of the room. Doug…"
She paused, shaking her head as if at a loss. "I could tell he was shocked and really upset, but Dad started yelling right back at Amy and then Doug had to go into de-escalation mode."
He was utterly agog. He couldn't believe Amy had confronted their father about his abusive treatment, and right at the dining table in front of the rest of the family. He felt glad she let him have it, and hoped their dad heard every word. "So, what happened? Is Amy okay?"
"Dad was angry, but yeah, Amy's fine. He wasn't that mad at her. He blamed you for filling her head with nonsense, as he put it. He wouldn't cop to any of it. Said you were…" Gretchen stopped herself. "Anyway, the point is he was very angry, but his anger wasn't really directed at Amy."
"He's pissed at me for opening my mouth and telling Amy."
"Yeah. Started ranting and raving, actually. Said that you didn't know what you were talking about. Not that he'd ever admit to doing anything wrong, just that you were a messed up kid who needs someone to blame for your problems and that you're trying to turn the rest of the family against him."
Pacey heaved a sigh. None of this was all that surprising to hear.
"And then Amy threw it in his face that he was the one with the real problems, and at least you were getting counseling at school to help you deal with things, and—"
"What? She told Dad—" His mouth fell open. He couldn't believe it. "How does Amy even know I meet with Mr. Kapinos?"
Gretchen swallowed, giving him a repentant look. "I told her…"
"Jesus Christ. And she told Mom and Dad that I'm seeing a counselor. Well, that's just great. That's fuckin' perfect." He felt sick. This was the last thing he needed. He'd never live it down. His parents thought therapy was either for crazy people or weak people, and that it was a bunch of bunk. He knew what they'd think about one of their kids getting that kind of help. It made him think of Carrie, living in misery in that house, not getting the help she obviously needed, knowing their parents would never encourage her to seek help.
"I'm sorry, Pacey. Amy asked whether or not we should try to get you into therapy and I said you were already seeing the counselor at school every week. She was just concerned about you."
He collapsed in the chair at the kitchen table. "I don't care that you told Amy, Gretch. I just wish it had ended there. I know what Mom and Dad are gonna say. All they care about is how it makes them look. They're not gonna like it if word gets out that one of the sheriff's kids is…"
"I know. Dad is super stressed with stuff going on at work, you know, 'cause Brendan is running against him this year. It's making him more agitated than usual. His fuse is even shorter. He wouldn't listen to Amy or me. And Doug didn't know what to say. Well, Amy wasn't about to stay there after that, and she packed up her and Steve and the kids and they went to a motel. Mom was really, really upset."
"Happy Easter," he snarked. "Well, I can't say I regret my decision not to go."
Gretchen frowned in sympathy. "It's probably best you weren't there."
"Now I'll just need to avoid Dad for the rest of my life. No sweat off my back. I'm outta here in a couple months, and I ain't ever coming back here."
"Do you really think Dad's gonna let you go that easily? Just let you leave town believing you got the best of him?"
His brows furrowed. "He doesn't give a shit what I do, as long as it doesn't make him look bad. He'll be glad to be rid of me."
She shook her head. "You're wrong, Pacey. He cares a great deal about what you do. He seems to be under the impression you're going to culinary school."
"Yeah… did you correct him?"
"No. Amy apparently liked the idea of Dad being pissed off about you learning to be a chef, so she let him keep believing it and I didn't say anything. He's particularly invested in proving you're no better than him, based on the stuff he was saying tonight. You're gonna get the hell out of this town, something he never could do. When he came back from his final tour in Vietnam in 1972, he and Mom were married and had two babies. The war was the only time he ever got to leave Capeside. After that, he was stuck here. The idea that you could go out into the world and be a better success than him…" She sighed. "He's a petty, jealous man. That's why he derides your talents and treats you the way he does."
He supposed that wasn't surprising to hear either. Yet having a better understanding of his father didn't make him feel any better about anything.
"I'm exhausted," Gretchen said with a tired sigh. "I'm gonna head up to bed. You gonna be all right?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just gonna keep my head down for the next two months until I'm free and clear of this place. Shouldn't be too hard, right? Even for someone who's as cursed with bad luck as I am?"
His sister walked over to him and patted his head affectionately before turning and leaving the kitchen. Pacey went into the living room and plopped down on the couch. After a while, he turned the television off. As he lay down and stared up at the ceiling in the dark, he frowned. Why should he stay in Couch City when he had a girlfriend with a nice big bed? Damn it, he wanted to talk to her. He wanted to sleep next to her.
He loved talking to her and sleeping next to her just as much as rolling around in bed with her. Although, God knew, he wanted to feel her under him pretty damn fiercely as well. His mind made up, he put on his sneakers and walked out the door to the Witter wagon. Once behind the wheel, he lowered the visor and the keys slid into his hand.
It wasn't long before he was quietly walking around the side of the Potter's house. A smile spread across his face when he saw Joey had left her window open. She must've known he'd come. He effortlessly climbed inside her bedroom. And there she lay in soft yellow lamp light. Sound asleep on her side, the sheets twisted around her legs, her dark chocolate hair fanned out on the pillow behind her, a novel discarded beside her on the bed. He lounged by the window, drinking in the sight of her. She was wearing some kind of nightdress, and between it and the sheet she was fairly obscured from view. Thankfully one leg was exposed, and the tank top nightshirt had ridden up high on her thigh and he could see lots of lovely soft skin.
A surge of desire swamped him. He wanted her. Wanted to get lost in her. To forget that whole horrible conversation with Gretchen. The cruelty of his father. His king-sized ego. His mean-spiritedness. His ignorance. His upstanding reputation all over Cape Cod, and the farce of it all.
Pacey felt… sullied with the Witter name. And he desperately wanted not to. He wanted to feel fresh and shiny and new. He wanted to affirm life. To know that there were people out there who were good and kind and selfless. To know that there was someone who loved him and believed him worthy. Someone like Joey. Without any further thought he turned around and shut the window quietly. He ditched his bowling shirt, quickly divested himself of the rest of his clothes, and took one of the condoms out of his wallet. He was hard as a rock when he slipped into bed behind her and nuzzled her neck.
"Jo?" he murmured, his hand running up from the flat of her belly to cup her breast. Even though the thin cotton fabric was a barrier, he could still feel the puckering of her nipple.
Joey stirred as the delicious feel of Pacey's lips against her ear sent shivers of delight through her body. Her nipples tightened, and goose pimples broke out over skin. His hand at her breast sent a bolt of pleasure to her core and her eyes fluttered open. She turned her head to say hello, but he claimed her mouth before she could say anything, and the rampant power of his kiss had her turning, wrapping her arms around his neck, mashing her body hard against his. She could feel his erection pushing against her belly as his mouth left hers to ravage her throat and his hands stroked boldly down her body.
"I missed you and didn't want to be alone," he muttered against her neck as he pulled up the fabric of her nightshirt. "I need you, Jo. Now."
Joey had no intention of denying him, wouldn't even have been capable as he unleashed a maelstrom of lust upon her. His mouth was ravishing all the sensitive places of her neck, plundering her mouth. His hands were urgent yet gentle against her. Fondling her breasts, pushing down her panties, slipping between her legs, his fingers probing, seeking entry, his thumb pressing firmly against the spot he knew so well.
"Wet, so fucking wet," he groaned in her ear.
She struggled not to whimper and failed. "I was hoping you'd come back over."
Her back was arching as he stroked her sensitive inner walls and rubbed her clit in tight, fast circles. Her breathing became shallow. Her fingers were digging into his shoulders. Pacey could see her hovering at the edge of reason, could sense her orgasm rumbling through her. He felt her desire in the tensing of her thighs. Saw the changes in her body as a deep flush spread over her skin. Heard the deep, drawn-out groan emanating from her throat.
When he slid a second finger inside her and pumped hard, she came. Her mind splintered just as her body did, and she cried out, before clenching her jaw to quiet the sound of her first orgasm.
And when he moved over her, her thighs spread to accommodate him, her hips eagerly cradled his, her legs locked around his waist. She gasped when he entered her in one smooth movement, raking her fingers down his back as she hovered on a knife edge between pleasure and pain. He slammed his mouth against hers and the pain dissolved in a starburst of pleasure as a delicious heat bloomed from her core.
Her pussy was still pulsing from her orgasm. Her heat surrounded him, forcing him to move, to pump his hips. Pacey grabbed her legs, bending them at the knees, needing more, and lifted her ankles over his shoulders. He couldn't get close enough, deep enough, as he pounded into her. He didn't want to just be joined to her. He wanted to get inside her skin, dissolve into her, be part of her. He wanted to consume her. Be cleansed by her. He captured her lips in a passionate kiss.
Joey moaned into his mouth and grabbed his ass. How was it possible that it got better every time between them? He was so deep inside her in this position. Heat began to build again, spreading like wildfire, her body winding higher and tighter as his hips drove downward and he angled her body to stroke her most sensitive spot. Pleasure mounted until she thought she would have to scream for release. It built and built, higher and higher, tighter and tighter.
"I don't think I can come again, Pacey, it's too much," she gasped, her head tossing from side to side. But she had to, she needed release more than she needed anything at that moment.
"You'll come for me," he told her, and she whimpered. He gazed down at her face, her lust-filled brown eyes looking up at him. "You are so beautiful, Jo. You're perfect. So perfect. Your body is perfect. Your breasts are perfect. Just the right size for my hands. For my mouth."
His words were driving her absolutely mad with desire. "I—" Joey sucked breath desperately into her lungs, so on fire with arousal that she couldn't speak. Her head flopped helplessly back against the pillow as her body strained desperately for the release that seemed just out of reach.
"And this pussy," he moaned. He felt harder and thicker than he'd ever been, swelling within the hot velvet glove surrounding him. She was like a fist, holding him tight, rubbing and milking and demanding more. Always more. "This perfect pussy. Makes my cock feel so good."
His words sent her over the edge into a mind-blowing orgasm, the heat inside her bursting into flame. She choked out his name as every muscle in her body clenched. Shudders of pleasure rocked through her. He increased his pace, keeping her climax going as long as possible.
"Oh, God," Joey moaned through gritted teeth, trying so hard not to be loud.
He didn't want it to end. He didn't want her breathless, eager pleas to stop. He almost wished he could stop himself from coming so he could just do this forever. Her hands on him stoked his need even higher. Three more thrusts and he could feel the turbulent power of his climax tightening deep inside, twisting through his groin and tearing at the backs of his thighs. He pounded more. Rode it. Built it higher. Felt it ripple out in excruciating waves like rivulets of hot lava spewing from his lower back.
He let her legs fall from his shoulders and she wrapped her arms around him in a warm embrace, her thighs holding him between them. And then his control broke and he cried out into her neck, clutching at her convulsively as every cell seized and then fibrillated to the motion of his orgasm, rocking, trembling, sighing as his release filled the condom. Joey held him tight until the last of his climax subsided and he collapsed against her.
It was several minutes before either of them had sufficient breath to speak. Joey, shifting under his steadily increasing weight, spoke first. "Do you want to tell me what that was about?"
Pacey, his face still buried in her neck, slowly came back to reality at the sound of her voice. His head spun as he eased up and off her, rolling onto his back. He felt drained, sapped of energy, the movement a monumental effort. He ran a hand through his hair.
"I'm sorry," he said, turning his head to look at her as she handed him a tissue to take care of the condom. Her nightdress was pushed up under her armpits, there were red marks on her throat and her mouth was swollen. "I don't know what came over me… I… Did I hurt you?"
Joey pulled her nightshirt down and rolled up onto her side. "Of course not." She smiled at him, lifting her hand to his face, running her thumb over his mouth. "There's something enormously sexy about you being desperate to make love to me."
"Well, it was desperate, all right." He took a deep breath and tossed the tissue into her trash can by the bed. "Gretchen came home and needed to talk to me, and the conversation was…"
"I take it Easter dinner at your parents' house wasn't a barrel of laughs."
Pacey rolled his head back to face the ceiling. His sigh was loud in the stillness of the night. "My father is an utter bastard."
Joey's heart went out to him as he stared gloomily at the ceiling. She had no idea what had transpired but he had been really keyed up when he'd climbed into her bed. Tense. "Talk to me."
And he did. Turning to lay on his side to look at her, he proceeded to tell her the entire conversation he'd had with sister in the kitchen. "I'm thanking my lucky stars I wasn't there and I was cooking dinner for you guys instead," he concluded.
Once again, she was astounded at how Mr. and Mrs. Witter viewed him, treated him. To know Pacey was to love him. There was no one more caring and generous and protective and loyal. He would've laid down in traffic for his parents if they'd even given him an ounce of genuine affection.
"You're gonna prove him wrong, Pace. You're getting out of Capeside and there's nothing he can do about it. And I just know that you're gonna grow into an amazing man. There's nothing you can't accomplish that you set your mind to. And if everything you achieve doesn't make him proud of you in the end, it'll at least have to make him eat his words. I hope there will come a day when your parents can own up to what they put you through and apologize, but if not…"
She shrugged. "Well, I guess that'll be their loss, won't it? They don't know what they're missing. And as I'd like to consider myself somewhat of an authority on the subject that is Pacey Witter, I happen to know just how much they're missing." Caressing his cheek, she smiled tenderly.
Her hair had fallen over her shoulder and he pushed it back. How did she always know the perfect thing to say? "Sorry, Jo," he said quietly, his palm gliding over the rounded ball of her shoulder. "I don't know what got into me tonight."
Joey shivered at his touch. "It's fine."
"This is why I didn't want to go to their house. He makes me crazy. I always leave there so wound up. And this time I wasn't even there. Just knowing the bullshit that he was saying…" He took a heavy breath and tried to shake it off. "Anyway, I'm sorry for…" He waved his hand in the air. "…pouncing on you like a horny teenager."
"Pacey, you are a horny teenager." Joey smiled, a light, flirty note in her voice. "I think we both are." No matter what had happened before he'd entered her bedroom, she had the man she loved by her side and he was open and sharing his feelings with her, peeling back the layers he kept hidden behind his defense mechanisms.
"And, well, you were a little wound up," she said, running her finger along his lower lip. "Just know that in the future, if you ever have to be at your parents' house for any reason, you should just bring me along. That way I can help you ease that tension as soon as possible." She kissed his nose and his cheek and his chin. "Like in the car…" Her finger trailed down his belly. "On the way home."
He chuckled as the tension in his shoulders started to ease. "Well, I've never thought of that."
"Something to think about," she murmured against his mouth.
Pacey claimed it in a soft kiss as he dragged her on top of him and sunk his fingers into her hair, which had formed a curtain around his head. His chest filled with his intense love for her, his affection and devotion, as she opened her mouth to him. But this time, when he rolled her over and pressed her into the mattress, he made love to her with all the gentleness and tenderness that she deserved.