“What year did Thoreau retreat to…”

“Shhhh…Pace” Joey whispers at me from where she sits at my feet with Alexander.

“Is he asleep?” I ask.

I see her dark head nod below me.

“Do you want me to take him? I whisper.

“No I’ve got it” she starts to get to her feet and as she rises she adjusts him so his sleepy little face is turned to me.  I stand up and lean in to give him a soft kiss on the forehead:

“Goodnight little man” I tell him, “now be good and sleep all through the night so your Aunt Joey can get lots of rest and be all bright eyed and bushy tailed for her big test tomorrow”.  He is blissfully unaware of my request as he nestles against Joey’s shoulder.

“Pacey I have never in my life been ‘bright eyed and bushy tailed’!” she turns to me and whispers with mock revulsion in her voice.

“Well Potter there’s a first time for everything – and if there was ever a time to start being bright eyed and bushy tailed – tomorrow would definitely be it.”

“I’ll be back in a minute” she says as she gives me a light kiss and an absolutely adorable smile.  I watch them disappear down the hall and stand there for a moment feeling really strange…strange in a good way, but strange nonetheless.

Something about this whole night seems absolutely right – sitting by the fire helping Joey study, playing with Alexander, taking care of things at the B&B.  These past few days here have felt like we are an actual family – the routines, the fights, the work of being in a relationship and trying to maintain connections to the person you love while dealing with all the mundane details of life.

Here’s the strange part – the fact that we are both 17 year old high schoolers who are not married, nor are anywhere close to being married doesn’t seem to put a damper on the fact that I’ve really been enjoying this.  Granted I didn’t enjoy Joey’s temper or the perpetual Dawson cloud that was floating over us – but I enjoyed the feeling of being a partner with this woman whom I am completely crazy about.  I like taking care of her and her nephew and feeling invested in how things turn out in her schoolwork and her family’s business.

I guess these past few days have been yet another one of those learning experiences that I frequently seem to have ever since I first fell for Joey Potter – I’m a teenage guy who is already looking forward to being a father and husband!  A year ago I would never have believed it but I’d be lying if I said that cuddling up next to a fire with Joey and a baby didn’t feel really good.  I think I should be scared by this realization but I’m not.  Yet another of my teenage bravado fantasies shattered – I’m not the beer and babes guy I always figured myself for but instead some sort of househusband in training.

I head down the hall towards Alexander’s room and lean against the frame of Bessie and Bodie’s door.  Joey quietly backs out of the room across from me and shuts Alex’s door.  She smiles when she turns and sees me watching her.

“Everything OK?” I ask.  She nods her head in the affirmative.

“So…” I start “do you want me to stay the night?  I mean, I can go so you can get to sleep…” she comes over to me and wrapping her arms around me she gives me a very deep, very warm kiss.  I slide my hands into her thick hair and slowly pull my head back to look into her eyes,

“I take it that’s a yes?” She just nods her head yes and kisses me again.  As her hands run along my back I gently prod, “do you want to study some more?” her mouth moves from mine up along the bridge of my nose.  Against my forehead she places a kiss then shakes her head slowly from side to side.  “Ok… do you want me to stay on the couch?” from my forehead she travels to the left side of my face and places another kiss on my cheek – as her lips make another “no” gesture.  “Do you want to go to bed now?” trailing soft kisses from my cheek across my chin to the right side of my face she kisses my other cheek except this time with a nod up and down.

“Alright then” I murmur into her hair, “why don’t you get ready for bed and I’ll lock up the doors and take care of the fire?” Her arms travel up around my neck and she squeezes me tightly.  I hug her back and we just stand there for a minute locked in an embrace.

I have to say that waiting patiently for Joey to be ready for sex is one of the most difficult things I’ve ever done in my entire life.  But every second of that wait is worthwhile for moments like this.  When she is so sensual, and loving, and tender, that I know that when the time finally comes and we are both ready for it that making love to her is going to be one of the most exquisite pleasures of my life – and hers.  I’ll make damn sure of that.

I reluctantly break our clinch and tell her to get going.  As she moves away from me I give her a playful smack on the butt and she looks over her shoulder at me with a gleam in her eye.  She hasn’t said a single word since she left the living room yet she’s left me speechless.

I hear the faucet go on in the bathroom as I lock up the door and flip the “Closed” sign over.  The fire is mostly out so I do the safety precautions drilled into me by my father and scoop up Joey’s study notes to take to her room.

In her bedroom I’m about to put her books down at her desk when I notice there is something already there.  As I place her stuff on the chair to go move it I am absolutely stilled by what it is: a large framed photograph of Joey and I.  It looks like it is from the other night – the night of the Worthington and Leery parties because she is wearing her Audrey Hepburn dress and is smiling contentedly as I stand behind her nuzzling her cheek.  My arms are wrapped around her waist and her hand rests against them.  We look secure – and happy.  It is such a private moment and it has been captured perfectly.  Seeing it I can remember exactly what I was saying to her at that instant next to the shining Christmas tree and I can feel just how she responded to me as I spoke to her.

Then it hits me when this happened: at the Leery’s.  And Dawson is now obsessively into photography.  And now I have absolutely no idea what to think of this picture.  It is beautiful, and loving, and intimate and it is from Dawson.  At least I think it is.  Actually I have no idea what to think and as my mind turns it over I am startled by the sound of her voice behind me:

“Do you like it?” she asks me softly.

I turn to face her still holding it in my hand.  Her face is scrubbed clean and her eyes are expectant.  “Where did you get it?” I ask.

“Dawson.” I am officially stunned.  “Dawson gave it to me for Christmas…when I went to talk to him about…things.”  I can tell she is trying to read my response but I’m sure that she can’t.  Mostly because I’m not sure what it is myself at this moment.  “I think it’s beautiful” she adds and peers over the frame.

“It is definitely that” I manage, “only because your loveliness is prominently displayed.”

She tips the frame towards herself and comes to stand near me so we are both looking at it side by side.  “No” she corrects me “We’re displayed.  This photo shows us.  In love…and happy…and together.  And Dawson took it Pacey – don’t you know what this says?  That he witnessed this moment between us and he captured it on film and then he saw what it said and he gave it to me?”

“It says we’re a damn fine looking couple?” I’m stalling as I try to process what this really means.

She looks up at me and I can see how excited she is by this gesture “it means he accepts us Pacey.  He accepts the fact that you and I are together and that we are staying together.  He understands that I love you and that I am happy with the decision I made last spring when I got on that boat with you.  It means that Dawson is my friend who cares about me and my happiness.  And my happiness is you.”

Now I’m overwhelmed.  By this picture, by Dawson, by what it all means – but especially by her.  I fought for this woman and I lost my best friend.  And as hellish as the entire process was – I would do it again because the fact that she feels for me the same way I feel for her is so amazing that sometimes I still can’t get over it.

“So for all his talk and threats, he came around to the fact that he could still be your friend after all”

“Yeah” she says softly.  I look at her and she looks at me expectantly.  I slide my arm around her and look back at the photo in front of us.  I feel really…I feel relieved actually.  Earlier tonight she told me she had dealt with all her ghosts regarding Dawson and I believed her.  But standing here now with Joey holding this symbol of peace among the three of us I’m not even upset that he still can’t seem to forgive me.  She needs him and he has made his amends to be there for her.  And I am grateful to him because I think all we both want is for Joey to be happy – and this has made her very happy.

“We’re still a good looking couple” I murmur. She slips her arm around my waist and squeezes against me.

“Yes we are” she giggles.

“You think maybe one day Dawson will let me have a copy of this?”

“I think that Christmas is still a few days away.  You never know what you’ll find under the tree.”

I don’t know if she knows something I don’t, or if she is just being hopeful that Dawson’s holiday spirit will extend to me but I’m thankful for her gesture.

“You know Pace – they say that you never appear more beautiful – or more honest – than when you are seen through the eyes of someone who loves you.”

“Is that so?” She lets go of the frame as I turn towards her and pull her body against mine.  As her hand rests on my chest she looks me right in the eye:

“Yes that’s so.”

“So you’re saying…?”

“I think you know what I’m saying” she kisses my nose and then rests her forehead against mine.  I instinctively rub my nose against hers.  Eskimo kisses we called them when we were kids.  They never felt so good.  “I think by seeing how Dawson sees us – we are able to see Dawson.  And I think we’re all gonna be OK.”

“I hope so” I whisper against her mouth. I give her a kiss then step back – holding the picture out in front of me, “why don’t you put it up somewhere?”

“What? Now?” she takes it from me and looks confused.

“Sure now.  It’s a great picture, of Capeside’s most gorgeous couple - it should be seen.”

She grins and turns back to her desk, clearing a space she leans it against a lamp, “that can wait, right now I want to get into bed – and go to sleep with you.”

“I think I can handle that”

“Do you?  Because I have to get started on being bright eyed and bushy tailed for tomorrow!”

“Well don’t let me stop you Potter.  Lord knows I wouldn’t ever want to stifle your cheerful demeanor.” I pull my shirt over my head and throw it on a chair.  As I reach to start undoing my pants she grabs my discarded shirt and fixes me with her sweetest, most I’m-about-to-ask-you-for-something-and-I-know-you-won’t-deny-me expressions.  I save her the trouble: “You can wear the shirt Jo.”  She laughs and thanks me and then pulls her own top up over her head.

I climb into her bed and adjust my pillow.  When I look up her back is bare and I watch as the soft material of my shirt slides down her body and hangs at her underwear clad hips.  She turns back towards me and I hold out my hand.  She reaches for it and falls into the bed and my arms.  I turn off the light as she snuggles against me.

“Pacey” she whispers into my chest after a few minutes have passed.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t want to sleep just – yet” she rises up next to me and even in the dark I can make out the lopsided grin on her face.

“No?” I ask, tracing her features with my index finger.

“No” she answers – her voice low and husky.

With my best attempt at being clueless I ask, “Do you want to study some more?  Go over the Emerson notes one last time?” but before she has even given me a little shove in the ribs I am laughing.  “Ow no hitting Potter!  What kind of B&B is this that is so abusive to guests?”

“What kind of B&B lets you sleep with the owner’s teenage sister?” she counters and has now sat up so she can use both hands to batter me with.

“Good point” I laugh and rise up quickly.  I take her by surprise and grab hold of her hands, turning her over on her back and pulling myself on top of her so she is pinned to the bed.  “The owner’s nubile younger sister I might add” as I start to nuzzle at her neck.

“Pacey” she laughs into my hair and tries to free her wrists from my hand.  I keep holding her tightly and slide down her body a little so that I can kiss her collarbone as it peeks from above the dark material of my shirt that covers her chest.  I inhale the scent of her skin mingled with mine from my clothes and open my mouth against her to capture the taste of us.

She moans and shifts underneath me trying to maintain all contact and I wind a trail of kisses up her neck, along her ear, and along her face – mimicking her actions earlier in the hall.  Her breathing is becoming faster and she is struggling for some control.  As I reach her mouth and lean in to kiss her I slowly release my hold on her wrists and smoothly slide my hands up until they meet hers.  Our fingers intertwine and for a moment I can feel some of her fingernails dig into my hands.  But as the kiss deepens and our bodies relax into one another her grip loosens and our hands rest together comfortably as our mouths eagerly explore one another.
 
 

Part II

Why the hell isn’t Bessie getting Alexander?

He has wailed at least three times in the past 5 minutes.

Pacey shifts next to me in my bed and suddenly I realize that Bessie isn’t here.  Alexander is crying for me.

“Alex” I say in a dazed voice and turn to push myself out of the bed.

“I got him Jo.  Go back to sleep” Pacey whispers to me.  I roll over and put my hand on his arm – he feels warm and soft – his muscles relaxed from sleep.

“Pacey I’ll get him” but he has already slipped out of my reach and is padding towards the door in his t-shirt and boxers.  As he opens the door dim light from the hall silhouettes him and he tells me to go back to sleep and that he’ll be fine with Alex.

I should protest more but I feel rooted to the bed.  This has been such an exhausting week and just tonight I admitted to Pacey that I needed his help, I needed him to make me share my burdens with him instead of trying to do everything myself.  In the process making both him and myself miserable.

I hear Alex’s howls grow louder as they pass by my bedroom and underneath his noise I hear Pacey gently talking to him: “it’s OK little man.  I gotcha.  Awwww shhhh baby.”  He is really so good with him.  It was unfair of me to accuse him of always riling Alex up.  Actually Alex often responds to him better than he does to me.  Then again I have been pretty unfair to him a lot lately.

Earlier Dawson told me that I should let Pacey take care of Alex because of this exact thing – his seemingly natural ability to handle kids.  Dawson even said it as a compliment to Pacey – no condescension or callousness in his voice.  It was a very revealing moment.  I guess the whole conversation was really.  The way Dawson talked about Pacey and I was the first time I think he has ever talked about us as a couple without any anger.  It was like we were a couple that he knew – like any other – and not like we were the two people who he accused of betraying him and hurting him most in the world.

And then to talk to him about Gretchen, encourage him to pursue his feelings for her and for the first time ever – not feel pangs in my heart as I said the words.  It was like the weight of the world was lifted off my shoulders.  Dawson and I have been living for far too long with the notion of being destined for one another – but just not yet.  While in the meantime not wanting anyone else to come between whatever strange fated path we believed we were on.  When you think about it it is really a very twisted belief, but one I think we both clung to because we were so desperate to preserve the innocence of our childhood and the security of our lifelong connection to one another.

So what happened?  I’ve thought about that a lot actually.  I can’t trace the actual sequence of events but I can find the threads and how they started to unravel.  One thread was Eve, another was Nikki Greene, one was AJ, and the most persistent one was of course Pacey.  But it wasn’t that these people pulled us apart – it was that the more time we spent with them and away from one another the more we each began to learn new things about ourselves and what we wanted, what we enjoyed.  And we weren’t there for one another to share those changes.

To my astonishment I discovered that I really enjoyed Pacey’s company.  We hung out a lot together and as I got to know him better I found that his friendship was one that had become incredibly important to me.  I think that is part of the reason why I became so unreasonable at the prospect of us becoming romantically involved: I knew it would jeopardize my friendship with Dawson, but I was also terrified it would completely destroy the one I had built with Pacey.

Dawson and I grew apart last year.  And he just took it for granted that I would always be there – climbing up the ladder to his room, hiding out in his closet, rowing in a perpetual path to his dock.  Of course I did too.  Dawson and I have known each other as kids, as precocious pre-teens, as hyper-verbal teenagers, and briefly as a couple.  But we never really worked at any of it.  It was just there – our friendship.  Growing into new interests and new relationships meant putting some effort into bringing the old relationships with us and we didn’t do that.

As a result he was blindsided by the discovery that Pacey and I were far past the point of being just friends.  No matter how many years pass, no matter what turns my life takes – whenever I recall that awful confrontation in his yard I will always feel sickened just by the memory.  His face when he realized how Pacey and I felt about one another, and the way I deserted Pacey when he most desperately needed me will haunt me forever.  What’s done is done.  But I will always be ashamed at the way it all happened.

I turn over in bed and pull Pacey’s pillow towards me to inhale the scent he’s left behind.  I toss my head a little as if to cast the bad memories out and I strain to hear any sounds from the house but it is quiet.  What I said to Pacey about growing up with him while I continually stayed static with Dawson was the absolute truth.  I’m surprised I admitted it to myself let alone him.  But he deserved to hear it – he needed to.  The closer we get the less I think about Dawson the way I fear that Pacey still thinks I do.  As in romantically.  I don’t compare them to one another.  I never did.  Actually that isn’t the truth – I did compare them to one another when I realized that I no longer wanted to be the 15 year old girl crouched in Dawson’s closet – never finishing the same old argument, the same old movie.  I wanted to be with him the 17 year old woman who is terribly in love with her boyfriend – the one who can go to her oldest friend and tell him to follow his heart without a shred of remorse.

And that is what happened in that room that night.  Dawson and I talked and he gave me the most beautiful expression of his friendship that I could ever imagine – acceptance of my relationship with Pacey.  I think I’m getting better at learning how to not need his validation at every turn in my life but this was one acknowledgement I really did want – and I got it in a gorgeously simple snapshot of myself with the man I am in love with.

**
I wake from a strange dream that has me sailing the True Love on Walden Pond to find that the space next to me in the bed is empty.  When I reach out for Pacey there is nothing.  I remember him getting up with Alex but that had to have been hours ago – I must have fallen back to sleep.

I get up out of my bed and his oversized shirt wraps around my body.  It smells like him and I love the way it feels against my skin.  I make a sleepy mental note to see if I can sneak it away from him.  Then again if I had it it would lose the element of being Pacey’s – which is pretty much the feature that makes it so desirable.

Opening my door I tiptoe out and whisper his name.  There’s no answer.  I go to Alexander’s room and peek under his covers but he isn’t there.  The clock in the hall says 3:23AM.  As I pass it ticking softly in the night I scan the living room and my eye goes to the scene on the couch in front of me: Pacey lays on it with his left hand resting over his head and his right hand curled around my nephew who is on his chest.  They are both sound asleep with their faces tilted towards me.

I nearly burst into tears at the very sight of them because they look so beautiful – so peaceful.  The lamp next to the fireplace is on and it casts a warm light over them.  I quietly take a seat under it and lean forward resting my elbow on my knee and holding my chin in my hand.  I just want to watch them for a moment and reflect on what an absolutely amazing boyfriend I have.

I don’t deserve him.  At least that is the first thing that comes to mind.  If you had ever described to me the man I now know Pacey Witter to be I would never have believed it.  I would have said you were making him up because there is no way on earth a guy like that could ever exist.  Yet he does – and for some reason he loves me.  I often wonder what exactly he finds to love in me.  I’m neurotic, I can be bossy, I’m insecure, I worry too much about school and college and money, I often take out my frustration on him and I can seem miserably ungrateful.

I mean the fact that he handled my moods so well this week and is still here is nothing short of a miracle.  First I drag him to the damn Worthington College party then turn on him as soon as I start feeling inferior.  Then we witness the Dawson/Gretchen mistletoe incident and I become totally preoccupied by it while trying desperately to not let him know how I feel.  Sure I didn’t know quite how I did feel, but he was making an effort to understand and I shut him out.  This from the girlfriend who has lectured him repeatedly on how he needs to trust me and open up to me with his problems.

I think sometimes Pacey feels like I am somehow above him - that he is undeserving of me in some way because he’s not a great student, or he’s the black sheep of his family, or he is still living down the reputation he earned courtesy of Miss Jacobs.  The thing is nothing could be farther from the truth.  I often feel like I am the one not worthy of him.  How did I – who left him twisting in the wind last spring end up being the person lucky enough to have him loving me and taking an active interest in my helping me plan my future?

Jen once told me this theory she had about “dating up” to the perfect boyfriend.  She thought that initially you have to put up with a lot of guys who still have no idea how to interact with women.  They forget, lie, cheat, manipulate, or pressure you.  Whatever it is they do you come to realize that you were doing your time with them to learn what exactly it is you do want from a guy in a relationship.  Then armed with that knowledge you can find Mr. Right and know you’ve done the time – you have earned your happiness with this man.

At the time her theory actually made some sort of sense.  Even if she had invented it in the wake of the Henry Parker nightmare and was probably just trying to justify why she dated him in the first place.  But going by Jen’s reasoning Pacey is the guy that I work towards – not the one I start out with so young.

My dating history is very brief and fairly spotty but off the top of my head I could say things I know I didn’t want in a boyfriend: jealousy of my art or other interests for one thing.  Or living two hours away and being hung up on someone else for another.  Maybe I just expected too much right off the bat with all those other guys and with Pacey I had absolutely no idea what to expect.  And I still don’t.  Every day brings something new to us.  We’re still learning about one another and figuring out how we fit together.  But I love every minute of it – even the hard parts, and I work for it.  This is the longest relationship I’ve ever had and I honestly do see us having a future together.  Perhaps by fighting for him everyday I am worthy.  Maybe we deserve one another and to hell with Jen’s theories.

Alex stirs a little from his spot on top of Pacey.  His little fingers curl around Pacey’s shirt and my boyfriend responds by softly rubbing his back in his sleep.  I get up from the chair and go sit back down on the edge of the coffee table in front of them.  I don’t want to disturb them but I know I have to get them both back to bed.  I rub the back of my hand lightly against Pacey’s cheek and after a moment a smile starts to form on his lips.

“Morning Potter” he says, his voice thick with sleep.

“It’s not morning yet Pace.  You fell asleep with Alex”.  I place my other hand on his that is resting on the baby.  Pacey opens his eyes and peers down at the fuzzy head resting under his chin.

“Ohhh” He looks back at me and then brings his left hand down to take my hand from against his cheek and place a kiss on it.

“Let me take Alex and put him in his bed” I offer.

“Nah I got him.  We’re good.”  Pacey slowly sits up and shifts Alex up onto his shoulder.  He looks so utterly adorable with his sleepy eyes and mussed up bed head that I just want to kiss him but my nephew is creating an obstacle to fulfilling that wish.

They rise up and I follow them to Alexander’s bedroom turning the light out behind me.  I watch as Pacey carefully lays him back down and puts his favorite bear Mr. Brown under his arm then pulls the covers up and tucks him in.  He ruffles his hair and whispers “’night little man” before coming back towards me.

We turn to walk back to my room and he follows behind me with his hands at my waist.  “Meet you in a minute” he whispers into my ear then disappears into the bathroom.  I go to my room but I don’t get in bed right away.  Suddenly I feel very restless, like I want to talk to him and tell him what I’ve been thinking about all night.  There’s another part of me that wants to continue where we left off when we first went to bed.  It was one of those moments where it was getting harder and harder to decide to stop.  Those are becoming a lot more frequent lately.  I feel like the day where I don’t want to stop at all isn’t too far in the future.

He comes back into the room and seems surprised to see me standing there instead of in bed.

“Hey”

“Hi” I respond.  I move closer to him and snake my arms around his waist.  “Thanks for getting up with him”

“No problem” he puts his hands on my hips, “we were having a good time until he went and fell asleep on me!”

“The nerve!” I tease.

“No kidding!”

“I appreciate it Pace – really I do.” I kiss him and he laughs a little.  “You’re really good with him.  He loves playing with you.  I think he likes you better than me.”

“Really?  Nah – he just recognizes another big kid.  That’s all.”

“That’s what Dawson said.”

“Dawson?” he sounds confused, “really?”

“Mmmm hmmm, and he meant it in a good way.” He makes a noise and seems to think on this.

“You know – you’ll make a really great dad one day.”

“You think?”

“I know.”  We kiss again for a moment and his fingers tighten on my hipbone as he pulls me closer.

“Well Potter, if you had given into my considerable charms the minute you stepped on that boat this summer – you could be finding that out for sure only a few months from now”

I can feel his mouth curling into a grin against mine and I take the opportunity to catch him off guard by kissing him again – this time harder, my tongue thrusting to find entrance while my body forces him backwards towards the bed.  As he drops down onto it we break apart and I crawl on top of him and straddle him.

He’s still holding me tightly and I run my hands along his arms and smile at him.

“As much as I love having you bring me food, and cooking for me, and doing the dishes, and talking to teachers about my tests, charming college admissions officials on my behalf, and getting up with my nephew in the middle of a school night – I think I’ll stick to just playing house with you for now.  If that’s not too much of a blow to your ‘considerable charms’ and all.”

He laughs loudly for a second until I shush him so Alex doesn’t wake up again.   He sits up and takes me in his arms.

“Josephine I will play house with you any day.  But just so you know – all those chores start out free, but eventually you have to start paying up in sexual favors.”

“You do huh?”

“Yup.  First couple times are on the house, but a man can only work without incentive for so long.”

“What kind of sexual favors?”

“I haven’t decided yet.  Depends on how many more tests I’ve got to rig for you.”

“And what if there aren’t any more?  What if I sail through the rest of the year without another screw up?”

He nuzzles my throat and murmurs “oh there will be more screw ups”

“How can you be so sure?” I lean my head back to give him greater access to my neck.

“I just am” he gently bites at the sensitive skin just below my earlobe and a moan escapes my lips.

“You’re awfully confident that I’ll need you to help me out again”

His response is lost against the area where my neck meets my shoulder.  This is rapidly becoming another one of those times when stopping things is the very last thing I want to do.

“Well…I could just keep doing this…for the rest of the night…until you are completely exhausted…” his teeth graze my collarbone and I dig my fingers into his shoulder, “…and then you oversleep, miss the make-up test…” his tongue moves expertly over my throat, “…and I have to go talk to your teacher again”

“And that one wouldn’t be on the house” I manage to say.

“Exactly.” He whispers in my ear.

I am about a second away from jumping off of him and digging through my underwear drawer until I find the condoms I got at the clinic.  I can’t stop wanting him.  I’ll take the average grade right now if it means we can keep going.  But before I can even move he has taken my face in his hands and lightly kisses me on the lips.

“But we don’t want that to happen” he says.

“We don’t?” my voice is thick and very confused.

“Nope” he says as he slides me off of him onto the bed and pulls me with him as he crawls under the sheets.  “I mean, my considerable charms worked on Mr. Kasdan once – I can’t guarantee they’re going to work a second time.”

I’ve somehow managed to regain my breath and as we rest our heads on our pillows and face one another I smile: “The ‘considerable charms’ which you were planning on using on Mr. Kasdan – I hope they weren’t the same ones that were supposed to get me to sleep with you at the beginning of the summer.”

He laughs and smoothes his hand over my hair.

“No, no, no.  I have many hidden talents”

“Don’t I know it.”  We look at each other for a minute and I feel myself getting sleepy again.  “I like having you sleep over Pace.”

“I like sleeping over Jo.”  He yawns and pulls the covers up tighter around us.

“Maybe sometime soon we could have another sleepover.  When there is no test the next day.  And no baby who might wake up.  Or no siblings who would be home…” I don’t complete the thought but he knows where I was headed.

“Just say the word”

“You’d be over before I’d even finished the word!” I laugh.

“Damn straight!”  He smiles at me and I close my eyes feeling tired, but incredibly good.  “Goodnight Joey” he whispers.

“I love you.”

Under the cover I reach for his hand and he envelops it in his larger one.

“I love you.”
 
 

Songs:

Title: “Sign Your Name Across My Heart” by Terence Trent D’Arby (The Hardline According to Terence Trent D’Arby)