Now we've been friends girl, for quite a while
I've never been the kind for beggin' and pleadin'
But I can tell by your hazy smile
All of his lies you've been finding are heavy on your mind
He broke your heart and he took your pride
Will you ever love again?
Though you try you don't believe it
Come over here, talk to me a while
Girl if you tried you would find that
If you ever did, girl you need me now
You don't need the complications of running to a stranger
So I'm coming over and I'll stay a while
Taking my time 'till I find that sparkle in your smile
Like a father's shoulder or a mother's arms
Girl I've always been the one
For strength and understanding
The rain will stop, the clouds will be gone
Girl if you tried you would find that
You're someone like me, simple and free
We're two of a kind
I can love you in ways no one has ever tried
Girl don't you see for the chance
I've been waiting for you to let me
Love the hurt away
I been there for you and you for me
Better friends we'll never find
Nobody really knows you
No baby not the way I do, no
We could miss an opportunity for what we've both been trying to find
And girl it's time I told you
And all I ever really really needed or
I ever really wanted was to love you
Love the hurt away
Love the hurt away
Love the hurt away
Love the hurt away
"Love the Hurt Away" by Eric Benet
~*~*~*~*~*~
Things have been tumultuous for Pacey and I since last night. He's been normal, despite what I said to him, but I'm still trying to deal with the consequences of it. It's hard for me to understand why I wanted to make love to Pacey last night. I just can't. Honestly, I don't think there's any way to understand.
Dawson taught me to analyze everything, and I'm very excited at the prospect of just feeling this. I want to let it work itself out.
We're in the hotel bar, and I can't help but to notice how good Pacey looks as he gently nurses a gin and tonic. I lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. We seem so stereotypical, turning to liquor and cigarettes to heal our wounds. I'm not sure if we're dealing, and we're probably fooling no one. But we're just trying to cope.
The power I hold over myself seems so long-gone. I lost the control in my relationship with Dawson the minute he took the initiative to kiss me, and it's spun out of control ever since. Now, in an effort to regain some composure, I run away with Pacey to Atlantic City, of all places. But, instead of disappearing, the confusion seems to be mounting.
I'm not sure why I'm finding myself so attracted to him. He is special, even if I am just realizing it. He's also just as messed up as me. Somehow, that's just what I needed.
I looked up, and I'm not sure how long he's been watching me. "What were you thinking about?" he asked.
"I couldn't tell you if I tried," I said simply, as I took another drag from my cigarette. It was true. I didn't understand myself anymore.
"Complete and utter chaos in your head," he offered as more of an understanding than an explanation.
"Yeah," I said. "I really don't understand anymore."
He nodded, taking the last swig of his drink. Pacey's probably no where near the alcoholic that I would've called him two days ago. It seems to just take the edge off for him.
"I'm really not tired," he said, looking at his watch. "Are you?"
"Not really," I said.
"You feel like taking another swim?" he asked.
"Now?" I asked. It seemed too late for swimming. It made me smile, though. Atlantic City seemed notorious for its nightlife, and here we were wanting to go for a midnight swim. "I think I'm up for it," I said.
~*~*~*~*~*~
I'm not sure what time it was when we got back down to the pool, but we were there all alone.
I just treaded water, really, too exhausted to do much else, as Pacey began to swim more laps. I dipped under the water to slick my hair back, and leaned against the side to watch him. I came to a startling revelation, then.
I wanted Pacey.
I'm not sure what it was that made me realize it finally. Watching him, though, brought back all the feelings I'd had last night. The feelings I didn't understand. The feelings that kept me from thinking about Dawson. The feelings I shouldn't be having. The feelings I liked having.
I don't know how long it was before he noticed.
"What are you doing?" he asked me.
"I'm watching you," I said. It didn't come out sounding as simple as I'd meant it too. It sounded much more . . . seductive.
He came closer, and he looked confused. "Why?" he asked, his voice soft, near a whisper.
"Because," I said simply.
He came even closer. "Because why?" he asked.
I looked up at him, and he was right there. Too close. His hair was wet, his look soft. "Because I like watching you," I said.
"Why?" he asked again.
Was he teasing me? I wasn't really sure. The look on his face was purely innocent, even if his intentions weren't. I really thought he was trying to scare me. I knew what I'd said this morning may have been out of line. He probably didn't think I was serious, and was ready to prove it.
"I don't know," I said finally. "Why do you have so many questions?"
He shrugged, sending beads of water off his chest, back into the pool. "I thought we were both equally confused."
"At this point I'm only seeing one thing. And it's so clear it scares me."
"What's that?" he asked.
"That I want to kiss you again," I said. It seemed like I was laying it all on the line. In a way I had.
And he smiled at me. I didn't know if I wanted to kiss him more or knock him upside his head. "All the sudden you feel like you have to ask?" he said, his face quickly turning serious.
"I thought things were different now," I said. "They feel different."
He moved back, and I finally felt like I could breathe. I swam to the middle of the pool, only to find him following me. He didn't look to be playing it cool any longer. "I meant what I said this morning," I told him, still unwilling to repeat the actual words.
"I know you did," he said, looking down at the water.
"Does that scare you?" I asked. "Joey Potter, virgin queen, actually wanting to lay down with you."
"It surprised me," he said. "You're generally not so giving with information. And I know that you think you meant what you said. But, Jo, there's so much more to it."
"I know that nothing's uncomplicated, Pacey," I said. "I'm so tired of thinking about consequences."
"I'm not going to sleep with you. It wouldn't be right for a thousand reasons," he said simply. His face seemed so sincere.
God, he was supposed to be bad. He was supposed to disregard the rules and be a veritable example for improper behavior. But he wasn't. He cared about me. And for some reason, that really sucked.
I was embarrassed then. To me it seemed like he was right and wrong all at the same time. But I was never supposed to bear my soul to him. I was never supposed to let him in my head. I didn't feel like I could swim away, so I just fidgeted and watched my feet move softly in the water. It didn't take much to keep me afloat, but I found myself concentrating on it deeply.
Then he put his fingers under my chin, and lifted it so that my eyes would meet his. I didn't let them, though. I wouldn't look at him.
"Look at me, Jo," he said softly. I did, but I wasn't happy about it. "You are desirable," he whispered. "And God knows I want you. But it's not right."
"I don't get you, Pacey," I said. "I don't understand how you can say you want me in one breath and then completely disregard it in the next."
"I don't get me either," he said. "Because as much as I'm trying to fight it, right now I just want to touch you."
I moved my eyes from the spot they were fixed on at his chest to his eyes. "So touch me," I said quietly.
He rested his hand on my cheek and stroked it gently. He bent his head, and gently laid his lips on mine. It was sweet and soft. His tongue traced my lip gently before entering my mouth. Pacey had a certain finesse to kissing, a thoroughness that I haven't experienced before. As much as I talked about wanting him, I would've probably been content kissing him all day long.
As the kisses deepened and became more feverish, it became more difficult for me to tread water. In all of it, he seemed to notice. He placed a hand on the back of my thigh, and helped me lift my leg to where I could hook it with the other behind him. It felt good to be so close to him. I closed my eyes as he moved down my neck and moved my head back feeling most of the tension leave my body. He was gently stroking the small of my back. Even though it was an innocent enough gesture, I couldn't help but to find it sensual. God, this man had a gift.
I was too comfortable in his arms, too comfortable kissing him. But, god, I didn't want to stop. I absolutely hated not knowing what was going on, though. I felt like my mind was playing tricks on me. I felt like my hormones were playing games with me. And I felt like my heart was . . . confused.
Deep down I knew that I was supposed to be this miserable because I was so deeply in love with Dawson. If that were the case, though, I couldn't understand why I was thrilled to be so close to Pacey, why I wanted Pacey, why Pacey was all I had thought about all day. But I loved Dawson. Loved. Past tense. I hadn't even realized it until then. What was I doing? What was I thinking? Suddenly, this kiss wasn't so distracting. I pulled away.
When I looked into his eyes, I wasn't sure what I saw there. He looked confused. I'm not sure if it was because he was thinking just like I was or because he didn't understand why I pulled away. I actually didn't understand why I pulled away. My body seemed to react before my brain caught up.
There were questions in his eyes, though. "I need a cigarette," I mumbled. Moron. Moron. Moron. Could I have said anything more stupid?
Then he did the last thing I expected him to. He cracked a smile. "Was it that good for you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow for effect.
I laughed then. It was funny. I rested my forehead on his shoulder. "You're crazy," I said.
"Well, I supposed we should untangle ourselves and get out of here," he said softly, the seriousness instantly returning to his voice.
I pulled my head away and looked back at him. Neither of us made a move, though. I don't think either of us even blinked as we stared back at each other. I was holding my breath just waiting to see what happened next. He closed his eyes slowly, and relaxed his grip on me. I carefully unhooked my legs from behind him, and moved away slowly.
"I'll see you upstairs in a couple minutes," I told him. I just needed a second to collect my thoughts. He nodded his head gently, walked up the steps in the pool, wrapped the towel around his waist and walked away.
I hopped up on the edge of the pool and reached for my cigarettes. I refused to think about anything until the smoke filled my lungs. The cigarette seemed to calm the inertia in my head for a bit. I mindlessly dropped the ashes into the pool, as I stared up at the dark sky.
I don't know what's going on with me. One minute I'm up, the next I'm down. One minute I want him, the next I don't. One minute I love Dawson, the next I hate him, and the next I'm indifferent. Now I'm indifferent. The one thing I never thought I would be.
I got up after sitting there for I don't know how long. Most of the water had dripped off me, but I wrapped myself in the towel any way. The walk back to the room was serene--clear in a confused sort of way. I didn't know what to expect when I got back there.
When I returned, I was surprised. Pacey opened the door for me and smiled. The only light in the room was from the full moon's light spilling in through the open balcony doors. I could hear the faint crashing of the waves on the beach and smell the salt water.
"I got these for you," he said, pointing to a vase of purple roses on the dresser. They were gorgeous, and I was so taken aback I didn't know what to say. I don't even know how he managed to get them.
He brought me roses. A dozen purple roses. I didn't even know there was such a thing as purple roses. I suppose it's fitting. Pacey didn't fall into the stupid cliche and bring red roses like Dawson would've. Dawson never brought me flowers. He's a romantic, so he should've done something like that. Hell, he built me a friggen picket fence, and he can't stop by the flower shop once in a while.
It sounds silly, I suppose, but it made me feel special and wanted. "Thank you," I whispered.
He moved closer and smoothed a strand of my wet hair behind my ear. "I need you tonight," he said.
"I need you too," I returned. I laced my arms under his, resting my hands on his back, and pulling him closer. I stood there for a moment listening to him breathe. He seemed to calm as we stood there.
We began to sway together slowly. It could've been called dancing if there had been any music. Life seemed to stop as we stayed there. The stress had been left outside even if it was what got us in there in the first place.
The hand he had laced around my waist seemed so strong. He brought his hand to my face and caressed it slowly. I pressed my cheek closer to his. His skin seemed so much smoother than it had when we first kissed, and he seemed so much more intoxicating.
I pulled away and looked into his eyes. I wasn't sure what to say. All I knew was that I wanted him to kiss me, and I wasn't sure how much our talk at the pool changed things, because every time I'd get close he'd move away, every time he got close I moved away. This time no one was moving away.
"Can I kiss you again?" he asked softly.
I nodded my head, and he moved closer to me. His lips were soft and slow. His tongue was gentle but hungry as it caressed mine. I twined my fingers in his hair, bringing him closer to me.
In that moment I there was only one thing I cared about. I hoped that he wouldn't stop.
~*~*~*~*~*~