Part 7

Joey dumped an armful of bottles on the counter. Most were mouthful sized samplers of liqueurs and flavored brandys. One was a pint sized bottle of Alize, an orange passionfruit/cognac blend she'd tried at a wedding once. Six pack of Sam Adams, a three dollar screw top bottle of wine and two plastic cups rounded out their order.

"Cash or charge?"

Pacey calmly placed the Visa on the counter. He held his breath as they waited for authorization. After twenty seconds that seemed like an hour, the clerk tore off a receipt, had Pacey sign it. He bagged the order, took back his pen and said, "Have a nice night."

The two walked quickly to the truck, their bottles clanking in the silent, empty parking lot. As soon as they shut their doors they burst out laughing.

"He didn't even card me. All that, and he didn't card me."

"I thought I was going to pass out in there."

"Me too." He glanced at her as he put his bag in her lap. Her eyes were bright and face was flushed. She smiled at him. He smiled back, waiting for her to look away. She didn't. He fumbled for his keys and went about the business of starting the truck. Turn it on. Seatbelt. Radio. Depress brake. Put in gear. Put in correct gear. Check mirror. Release brake. Back out. He stared at the road. This should be an interesting night.

The beach was close and easy to find. They don't exactly hide the ocean in a resort town, he thought. As they drove slowly down the rutted dirt road, the bottled jostled and clanked in Joey's lap. She pulled out the Alize and cracked it open.

"You know, it's illegal to have an open bottle of liquor in a moving vehicle in Massechusetts," he said.

"We'd better stop soon, then. Besides, after auto theft, credit card fraud and underage purchase of alcohol, I think we're already screwed if we're pulled ov er."

The dirt road ended and they pulled onto the beach. After they stopped, Pacey pulled a blanket out of the back and they hiked over the dunes, through the dune grass and finally saw water. Joey stared at the moonlit waves. They were small and calm, creating a nearly perfect streak of light down from the low hanging moon across the ocean to the beach. The blanket settled easily over the smooth sand.

"It's still warm, can you believe it?" He watched her take off her sandles and bury her toes.

"Nope." He tried the same thing and enjoyed the sensation. "So, what's that orange stuff again?"

She rustled around in the bag and pulled it out. "Alize. Delicious. Sweet and fruity and tropical and smooth." She took a sip from the bottle. "Just like I remember."

He poured some into a cup. "Unlike some people, I prefer to get trashed in a civilized manner." He cautiously sipped some. "Nice."

"Told you." She opened a beer and began drinking. "This, however, is designed to be drunk from the bottle."

"I guess."

"It's totally better."

"And you're such the connosuer."

"I know this much."

"You just like sucking on a longneck bottle."

She groaned and nudged him. "Again with the disgusting sexual innuendo. Can't we keep it to sarcastic sexual innuendo. I'd prefer not to puke."

"I didn't say anything sexual. It's all in your dirty mind." Yeah right. When Joey wrapped her lips around the bottle, leaned her head back and sw allowed, his mind got very dirty. But he pushed the graphic image aside.

"Whatever." She continued drinking and pulled the mini-bottles out of the bag.

"What is Doug going to say when he gets his credit card bill?"

"Nothing." He opened his own Sam Adams and took a few slow gulps of the heavy lager. "This is kind of hard core, Joey. Not exactly Coors light or Zima."

She shrugged. "When my dad was around he always let me have sips of his beer. This was his beer and now I think most other beers are kind of weak and boring. You don't think Doug's going to get suspicious?"

"Dougie is not the angel he pretends to be. He has about fourteen credit card s, mostly over their limit. I was surprised this one got approved. He goes on weekend benders all the time. I actually cover for him a lot of the time. He stays off my back for a few weeks and when he gives me too much shit, I threaten to tell dad about his little habit and about who actually puked on the white sofa. He'll probably think he bought it."

"You little enabler you. I had no idea." She tossed her empty bottle and opened a mini-bottle of Jose Cuervo Tequila.

He eyed her suspiciously. "You ever had tequila before?"

"Nope. What does it taste like?"

He paused, enjoying the happy, expectant look on her face. This was going to be mean, but he couldn't resist. "Really sweet and minty."

"Really?" She smiled. "Cool." She gulped down the bottle. Her face went from shock to disgust. "Bleh. Bleck. Ew." She wiped her tongue along her hand to get the taste out of her mouth. "Asshole." She grabbed his beer and downed it without taking a breath. "That is so nasty."

He laughed and stretched out on his stomach. She took a corner of his shirt and wiped it across her tongue. He ignored her. "Feeling anything yet?"

"Nah. Ok, yeah, a little. You?"

"Not really, I've had half a beer."

"Better catch up."

He selected two of the nicer tasting mini bottles, and swallowed, wincing a little. "You want the Kahlua?"

"What does that taste like, monkey piss?"

"It's nice. I promise. Cross my heart."

She opened it cautiously and sniffed the cap. Gently, she touched her tongue to the rim of the bottle. It glistened just a little in the moonlight, and when she pulled back an inch, a small string of saliva stretched from the tip of her tongue to the brown bottle. With her tongue still outstretched she smiled and poured the coffee flavored liquor into her mouth. She rolled it around and closed her eyes. A little bit dribbled out of the corner of her mouth.

Without thinking, he leaned towards her and wiped it off with his index finger. Her eyes popped open and she watched him lick the sweet liquid off his finger. "See, Joey, you should trust me more often."

"Mm-hmm." She licked her lips and leaned back against the blanket.

Pacey sipped his beer quietly, enjoying the warm breeze, the ocean noises and the warm, heavy feeling that spread from his stomach outwards. He was starting to feel a little drunk. Not an altogether unpleasant feeling. He glanced at Joey, who was humming softly to herself. Not an altogether unpleasant companion. He'd decided back at Wendy's not to have any expectations about this evening and was working very hard at keeping that promise to himself.

"Pacey?" She rolled onto her side and looked up at him.

"Yes, oh drunk one."

She whacked him and nearly missed. "I am not drunk. Okay, maybe a teeny bit sloshed."

"Me too."

"Cool."

Joey reached her arms above her head and stretched. With her back arched like that and her whole body drawn taut she looked . . .like something he should be touching right now. He tried to shake the thought out of his head, but he only ended up dizzy. And other thoughts rolled into his mind. He shook his head again, and tried to concentrate, but it didn't work. He took a few more gulps of beer. They were getting warm. Oh well. He didn't want to make the first move, but several really good ones were coming to mind.

"What time is it?" he asked.

"Two-ish, I think. You tired?" She grinned broadly at him, pushed her hair out of her face and leaned her chin in her palm. Or at least she tried to. She missed her palm somehow and ended up with her chin on the blanket. She cracked up.

"I'm not tired. But you, my lady friend, are drunk."

"I am suitably buzzed. And I like it."

"You like it, huh?" He looked through their shopping bag. They were down to two Sam Adams, a mini-bottle of the licorice-like Sambuca, a little Alize and some wine. Not too bad. He unscrewed the Alize and handed the bottle of orange sweetness to Joey. "What do you like about it?"

"Ohh-ho-ho." She giggled at him and rested her hands on her tummy. "I like the fuzziness. Everything's all fuzzy like a puppy dog or a bad camera."

"You're drunk."

"And...And I like how everything sort of reverberates." She clapped her hands. "See, my hands still tingle."

"Actually, I can't see that, but..."

"And I like my head right now. It's all calm and not running everywhere. I actually have to reach out and grab the thoughts as they go by." She pawed at the air. "If I don't, they just slip away and I'm nice and fuzzy."

"Yeah?" He reached over and circled her belly button with his middle finger.

"Whatcha doin' ?" She took a deep breath and giggled again.

"Picking your belly button lint."

"I do not have belly button lint." She sat up quickly and peered at her navel. "Do I? I do not."

"No, you don't." He scooted over and let his face hover a few inches above her belly. "Wait, let me look." He pressed his lips to her skin and blew fart noises.

She swatted the back of his head, but let her hand stay there, cradling his nec k. He rested his cheek against the soft expanse of her stomach and sighed.

"Pacey, how are you feeling?"

"I think it's hitting me."

"You gonna be ok?"

"Yeah."

She ruffled his hair. "It's hitting me too."

He kissed her stomach softly and waited for her reaction. None. He tried again, a little softer and wetter. It seemed like the scariest and most natural thing in the world. Still no response.

He glanced up her body. She wasn't asleep like he had feared, just staring ba ck.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey." Joey stroked his cheek and clumsily ran her fingers across his lips. "Why you doing that?"

He wriggled foreward a little, trying to get comfortable as the sand shifted beneath him. Pacey kissed her fingers and they were salty in his mouth. "No reason. You want me to stop?"

"Tell me what you're going to start, and I'll tell you if I want you to stop." She propped herself up on her elbows and gazed down at him evenly. So calm, he thought.

He moved to lie next to her. Without hesitation he nestled his face in the crook of her neck. Hair surrounded him and she smelled like sweetness and herbal shampoo and beer. Pushing her hair aside he pressed his lips to her neck.

"Oh, I don't know." His mouth moved over her skin as he spoke. "I don't know what I'm starting." He followed the curve of her neck up, whispering, "Do you?"

"Truth or dare, Pacey."

"Dare." He traced her ear with his lower lip and watched her shiver.

"Kiss me."

And so he did.