***

"Maybe he's married. Maybe he's got a wife and five kids hidden away somewhere, and he's going to tell me that I can only be his kept mistress."

Jen bursts out laughing. "Yeah, maybe."

"Or maybe he's going to tell me that he's really in love with Vanessa, and he just used me to make her jealous."

"That's possible, too."

I smile in spite of the apprehension that's been churning slowly in my stomach the whole day, making it harder than usual for me to concentrate on work. Then again, it's been harder than usual for me to concentrate on work since the moment I first laid eyes on Pacey again.

"Don't worry, Joey," she reassures me. "Whatever it is, we know where he lives now. We can always just go there and beat the crap out of him."

"Or send him hate mail."

She's quiet for a moment, and when she speaks again her tone is worried. "Joey, what do you want him to say?"

I bite down on my lip while I think about that. "I… that he understands what happened… that it's okay. Jen, I'm obsessing about this."

"Okay… guess what."

I grab on to the distraction that she offers with grateful relief. "What?"

"Jack e-mailed and said that he's going."

"And you're incredibly excited now, aren't you?" I tease her mischievously.

"Joey Potter, will you quit it with that? You're going to give me a complex. I'm just happy to be seeing my best friend again after such a long time."

"I thought I was your best friend."

Jen chuckles. "Nope. Sorry."

"Fine." I glance at my watch for the nth time this afternoon. 5:38. Pacey had called and said that he'd come over to my place tonight. "I'm going home."

"'Kay. Tell me what he says! Bye."

I stand up and gather my things. The telephone rings again, but I ignore it and let Lauren answer, anxious about getting home and thinking about what to cook for dinner. The intercom on my desk buzzes just as the strap of my bag settles onto my shoulder.

"Joey? Dawson Leery is on the line."

I stare at the intercom in shock. I'd almost forgotten that he was going to be at the reunion, too.

"Um… tell him I've left for the day, Lauren. I'm on my way out anyway."

Suppressing conflicting feelings of excitement and nervousness as I head home, I decide to make pasta and stop by a deli to get French bread. I'm at the register, paying for the bread, when the back of a blond-headed man catches my eye.

My breath stops. The blond man turns, revealing that he isn't Dawson. The man behind the counter repeats the total and I nearly drop the money that I'm supposed to pay as I turn back to him abruptly, jolted from my daze.

"Sorry. Here," he takes the money and hands me the bread. I walk the rest of the way to my apartment building in a state of paranoia, remembering our conversation and wondering if Dawson had indeed decided to come to New York.

I dump my things onto the nearest available surface as soon as I get home and walk straight to the kitchen to start dinner. French bread goes into the oven right after it's sliced, water goes into a pot on the stove to be boiled for the pasta. The tomatoes are halfway sliced when the doorbell rings.

"Hi." It's Pacey, standing in the doorway looking tired. "I came straight from work."

"Hi," I smile back uncertainly. "I was just starting dinner."

He walks in and crashes onto the couch and rubs his eyes with his hands.

"Have you been bribing the people in my building so that they'd let you in without having to buzz me?" I ask lightly.

He smiles weakly, but keeps his hands over his eyes. "No. I'm just an exceptional people person."

"I don't doubt that." My brow arches as I think about the women who were drooling over him at his party.

Pacey peeks through his hands and looks at me, chuckling as I flop down beside him on the couch.

We just look at one another for one quiet moment, each wondering what the other is thinking. My heartbeat feels like it's suspended in my chest. He reaches over and touches my arm. My body leans forward slowly, as if drawn to him, and in the next moment I'm kissing him, my lips pressed against his, my hand on his chest.

His hand moves up the nape of my neck, creating a path of tingling electric current along my skin. His fingers tangle messily in my hair. My breathing goes ragged as the kiss deepens, my chest leaning in to rest comfortably on his, his other hand wrapping around my back to hold me close.

He nips at my lower lip before slowly pulling away to look at me lying partly on top of him. I drag my gaze away from his slightly reddened lips and smile lazily.

"I think your water's boiling," he grins, angling his head toward the kitchen.

I get up reluctantly while he loosens his tie and lets his suit jacket slide off his shoulders. His eyes are closed again when I get back to the couch, his head leaned back so that he's facing the ceiling, frowning a little.

"I was talking to Jen today," I begin conversationally, glancing at the food cooking in the kitchen. I couldn't stand the silence for more than a few minutes. "She said Jack's decided to attend the reunion, too."

He turns his head to face me fully. "Jackers is going, huh?" He looks away. "Who else is going?"

My gaze slides down to my hands, my pulse beginning to accelerate with dread. "Well…"

The telephone rings, causing me to jump a little in surprise. I stay where I am and wait for the machine to answer, stalling for time to figure out what to say.

"Hi, this is Joey." My recorded voice fills the quiet tension in the room. "Leave a message, and I'll get back to you."

"Jo? It's Dawson." My eyes close while my heart drops down to my stomach. A voice in my head screams for me to get up as fast as I can to grab the phone and stop the machine, but somehow I am frozen, rooted to the spot. "I tried calling you at work but they said you'd left for the day. Just wanted to let you know that I'm in town, like I said I'd be. But I didn't row." He pauses and releases a rueful little laugh. "So… call me. The number's 555 3462. There's something I'd like to tell you. Bye."

I open my eyes slowly, afraid of what I might see. Pacey's hands are clenched tightly on his lap. His eyes are a fierce blue and locked on the door, his jaw set.

"He's -"

He shakes his head to stop me, his expression turning neutral. "In town, apparently," he finishes with a trace of irony lacing his voice. "Maybe we should invite him over for dinner."

A nervous laugh escapes from my throat. "What?"

He finally looks at me, his eyes veiled and unreadable. "No, really. It would be nice, don't you think? Nice and cozy. All three of us together again."

I can only stare at him in stupefied silence. He glances at his watch and stands up. "Damn, I just remembered that I have to meet a client for cocktails. I'm sorry, Joey." He walks purposefully to the door, hardly pausing to pick up his jacket. "I need to go."

I stand up, too, following him. "Pacey, wait -"

"We should all meet up for dinner sometime. I'll call you." He closes the door behind him, the soft click ringing with finality in my empty apartment.