“Let me guess…” Mike smiled warmly, reaching over to refill her glass. “Pacey is always quite a hit with the ladies?”

Jen nodded her thanks, bringing the wineglass to her lips and hiding her small frown behind it. “Just slightly,” she admitted, raising an eyebrow.

Mike laughed, turning to watch Pacey flirt shamelessly with the woman behind the bar. His friend was leaning casually to the side, chin rested on his elbow, legs crossed at the ankle, and laughing at something apparently very witty the barmaid had just said.

“And once he spots someone, he hits hard,” she muttered, looking down at the table.

Mike grinned at her expression, taking a sip of his own wine. “You’re faced with rather too many nameless beauties the morning after, Jen?”

“No, generally they have names.” She smiled wryly. “At least he manages to ask that much before moving forward on his hormonally induced philandering.” She paused, hearing Mike’s amused laughter, and tilted her head to the side, the smile finally reaching her eyes. “No, that was uncalled for. Pacey’s not one to bring the ladies home.”

“On the straight and narrow, huh? I never figured Pacey for one to avoid the offer of casual sex.”

Jen’s hand froze on her glass, and for a moment of tense silence she was sure she had dropped it, the thick red liquid staining her skin and clothes, glass crashing to the floor. Blinking twice, she realised she was still holding tightly to the stem, fingers wrapped tightly around it. with a deep breath, she put the wine back on the table, flexing her fingers slowly as she looked up.

“Maybe not,” she admitted. “You’re more likely to know, I suppose.”

“Why?" Mike asked with a smirk. “Because I’m a man?”

“No.” Her eyes glinted dangerously. “Because you’re his friend.”

“And you’re not?”

“I’m his roommate. I’m his best friend.” She smiled dryly, but her eyes were dark. “But since we have to co-exist and share living quarters, discussing each other’s sexual politics is an activity we wisely avoid.”

“Scared you might just shake something up?”

Jen studied Mike carefully, her soft eyes far stronger than either of them remembered as she looked over his face, as if trying to work him out. This guy was weird. Cool collected, and he wanted to know a hell of a lot about her.

“Perhaps,” she told him with a smile. “And perhaps neither of us have exciting enough love lives to discuss.”

“Oh, I doubt that.” Leaning back in his chair, Mike raised a hand, running it through his tousled hair.

Jen shrugged. “Pacey spends more time at the college than he should. I don’t think dating is his top priority right now.”

“I wasn’t talking about Pacey.”

“Oh.” Jen swallowed hard, looking down at her hands. She couldn’t remember the last time a guy had gotten this far under her skin, had taken a hold of her and shook her like he was doing now. And, worst of all, she wasn’t sure whether it annoyed or excited her. And maybe it was both. It was surreal, it was strange, it wasn’t exactly beyond reproach, but…

But it was different.

“Well…” She laughed softly, running her finger round the inside rim of her glass. “I don’t have much time to date either.”

“That’s a pity,” he told her calmly, and Jen watched him for a moment, helpless, trying to work out if it was the passing comment of a new would-be-friend or a come-one.

Get a grip, Jen. He’s married. He’s thirty three. He couldn’t possibly want anything from you. At least, not anything like that.

“But…that’s okay…” Mike shrugged, eyes so sharp she felt like he was daring her. “Some guy like a girl who’s less experienced.”

“Yeah.” Jen wasn’t sure whether to burst out laughing or cry. Instead, she gave him a tight-lipped smile. “That’s me, inexperienced. My sexual history is…” She raised her hand palm up into the air, holding it open. “Not ever worth a reference it the unofficial biography.”

Mike grinned, refilling his glass. “I just find it hard to believe…”

“What? That I could possibly have acquired the habits of a nun?” She grimaced. “No pun intended.”

“No, that you and Pacey could have lived together for, what…?” He looked at her questioningly.

“Five years.”

“Five years, and still be…and I quote here, “friends.””

“You’re right. I should have so ripped his head off by now.”

Mike laughed again, and shook his head. “I was referring more to the fact that you and he haven’t…tried anything a little more…advanced, should I say?”

“What, like holding orgies in our kitchen and regularly filming those not-so-classy porn movies to earn a little cash on the side? You’re right.” Her eyes narrowed. “What can we have been thinking?”

“You’ve never had sex, have you?”

Jen’s eyes didn’t move from the table where she had wisely looked before he asked her that. Swallowing hard, she let her shaking hand rest on her lap before it fell limply to her side. She was starting to feel a bit dizzy. “Don’t you think that’s a bit of a personal question?”

Mike grinned. “I didn’t think so.”

“Really?” Braver now, Jen raised her head, eyes strong as they met his own. “And how do you figure that, oh wise one?”

“The tension,” he stated simply, putting his wine glass back on the table and his hands casually behind his head.

“Tension?” Jen repeated, incredulously. “Mike, Pacey and I have lived together for long enough that I borrow his clothes, sleep in his bed…” Seeing his raised eyebrow, Jen rolled her eyes. “Yes, with him in it, but he stays firmly on his side, me on mine. I’ve cooked his food, he’s done my laundry, and we’ve seen each other at the worst, the best, and every other goddamned time there’s been for each other during the last five years. So I think it’s safe to say, Michael, that Pacey and I known each other long enough that tension? It’s not an issue.”

“But you haven’t known him long enough to talk about the more interesting things in life?”

Eyes wide, Jen leaned forward, her face awash with confusion and disbelief. “The more interesting things in life? So, forget about intelligent conversation- sex is it? You find sex the most interesting topic of conversation?”

“No.” Lifting his glass, Mike used it to gesture to Pacey, who was still standing by the bar. “What I find interesting is that however much you cry out your close companionable platonic friendship, you seemed to have avoided the subject of your sexual beings like the plague.”

Jen froze, for a moment stuck for an answer. She recovered quickly. “That’s because it doesn’t apply to us. We’re not about that.”

“You’re not? Tell me, Jen, do you find Pacey attractive?”

“I…” She hesitated, looking over at him. Her eyes darkened. He didn’t even know where she was- she could have been at home for all he knew, or cared, or would do anything about. She turned back to Mike. “No,” she struggled. “I…Well, I didn’t say that.”

“And you don’t think he finds you attractive?”

“No.” Jen smiled grimly. “I’m not his type.”

“Please…” Mike scoffed, leaning back casually in his chair. “That is the most classic case of self denial! That woman over there has your build, your proportions, your hair colour…” He raised an eyebrow. “She’s a little less attractive perhaps, but to all intents and purposes? She’s you.”

God, she felt breathless. She felt angry, she felt exhilarated she felt…No. This wasn’t what she thought it was. He was not, repeat not, implying that Pacey was hot for her. Because he wasn’t. She wasn’t. They weren't…like that.

Jen’s expression guarded. “No, Mike. I don’t think he does. And besides…” Leaning forward elegantly, she grasped hold of her drink and took a sip. “What does it mater to you?”

Mike was silent for a moment before his mouth curved up into a soft smile. “I was just trying to work out if you had a thing for him.”

“Well…rest assured.” Jen looked down, her fingers tapping restlessly on the table. “Because I don’t.”

He grinned. “Good.”

Jen’s eyes shot up, searching him out. “Are you playing games with me?”

“No.” He grinned. “Whatever gave you that idea?”

“I thought…” Jen shook her head, laughing in embarrassment. “I thought for a moment you were coming onto me.”

His smile was hidden behind his glass. “Nope.”

“Oh, okay.” Jen nodded firmly. “So you’re not going to come onto me?”

“Well…” Depositing the rest of his drink, Mike stood to his feet, leaving the glass on the table. “I didn’t exactly say that…”

With a quick smile, a smile laced with edge, and humour, and perhaps even desire, Mike turned, heading towards the bar. Towards Pacey.

Stumped for a response, Jen bit her lip, watching him go.

Jesus Christ. What was she getting herself into?