Joey stared at her computer screen uninterestedly, her eyes narrowed in concentration. She pursed her lips together and brought the pen that had been lying beside her to her lips. Carefully placing it on top of her pursed mouth, she tried to balance it without letting it fall. So far the longest she’d had lasted was forty-five seconds, she was determined to last a full minute. She didn’t even bother to right her falling tank top strap. She sat utterly still, determined not to move.

She was startled by a knock on the door; the pen tumbled down into her lap. “No one’s here!” She muttered a small expletive. Forty-six seconds. She sighed and attempted to try again.

The knocking continued at a steady rate.

She shut her eyes willing the person knocking to go away. She was close, so close...and then she sneezed. She muttered another curse, set the pen down and went back to her typing. “The door’s open!”

Pacey pushed open the door, “Hel-lo, beautiful,” He swept into the room, a grocery bag in one hand and a large grin on his face.

She raised an eyebrow. “What happened with the receptionist?”

“The who?” He reached into the bag, pulled out a bottle of shampoo with matching conditioner, and handed it to her.

“Turned you down, huh?” She looked at the two bottles. “What’s this for?”

“Never asked her.” He corrected her, “I’ve come to help you wash your hair.”

“Thanks, but I think I’m old enough to do it on my own now.”

“That won’t be nearly as fun as me helping, now would it?” He sat down on the edge of the bed.

“As enticing as that offer is, I’m going to have to decline.” She quickly saved her notes from today in the laptop.

“Really?” He frowned, “I’ve always wanted to see if a woman could really orgasm using Herbal Essences.” He held up the bottle, “I even bought the Passion Fruit kind.”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course they can’t and I guess I might as well just tell you now, there’s no Trix the Rabbit. That little leprechaun from Lucky Charms? Not real either. There’s no Snap, Crackle and Pop. No Keebler elves and sadly, the Pillsbury Doughboy is a fraud.”

“Not the Pillsbury Doughboy!” He fell back on the bed, the back of hand pressed to his forehead in mock horror.’

“Yeah, I know. Pained me to when I first found out. Couldn’t eat one of those oven baked chocolate chip cookies for a week.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm.

His smile faded and he sat up a little, a perplexed look on his face. “You okay?”

She shut her laptop and placed it on her nightstand. “Me? I’m fine.”

Smiling again, he slid over the bed and put an arm around her waist. “Article giving you trouble?”

She nodded brushing it off. “Yeah...”

“I wish you’d let me help,” he kissed her shoulder lightly.

“It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“You always say that,” he murmured, his lips grazing over the shoulder, charting a path towards her neck.

She bit her lip lightly. “And I’m always right.”

He trailed his arm along her side as his lips moved to taste the sweet skin of her neck. He could feel her pulse race. “You sure I can’t interest you in an orgasmic shower?” he whispered.

She inhaled a shaky breath and licked her dry lips, her mind racing with the possibilities. Focused, she reminded herself. She had to remain focused. She couldn’t let her hormones dictate her actions. She needed to be sensible. No matter how much her body told her otherwise. “I’m sure you can, but I, uh, already took a shower.”

Grazing his hand up her side, he cupped her cheek, tilting her face to his. He grazed his lips over hers gently, fighting the emotion that welled up in his chest.

She sighed contentedly. “Don’t think this changes anything. I still think you’re annoying.”

“S’okay, I still think you’re stubborn,” he murmured, brushing his lips teasingly over hers.

She leaned forward aching for more of his kisses. “As long as we both know where we stand.”

He claimed her mouth, unwillingly letting out a low moan.

Focus, she reminded herself. Her arms unwittingly traveled around his neck, her head just tilting slightly and her mouth opening wider for maximum affect. So much for focusing, how could she be expected to concentrate when he kept on doing that?

“I could get in so much shit for this,” he mumbled almost incoherently as he nibbled on her lower lip.

She gasped softly. “You? What about me? Talk about conflict of interests...”

He laughed faintly, the sound rumbling low in his throat. “You’re supposed to make me look good,” he traced the shell of her ear with the tip of his tongue, “should be easy if we’re sleeping together,” he whispered before slipping his tongue into the well of her ear.

She swallowed past the lump in her throat. She was right. He had the most insufferable ego. “Well, if that’s the case why am I wasting my time here? I can just as well do the same in Boston, in my office.”

He pulled away from her to look into her face. He brushed his thumb across her cheek. “I’m not here because I want you to write nice things about me, Jo.”

She rolled her eyes. “I have to write nice things about you.”

“Yeah, but that’s not why I’m here,” He insisted, thinking maybe that’s what had her upset.

“You just don’t get it.” She climbed off the bed angrily. “It’s not about just making you look good. Have you even read any of my articles lately? Of course you haven’t.” She stormed over to her bathroom. “You’re right, you’re not here because you want me to write nice things about you, you’re here because it’s convenient because I’m right next door!” She slammed the bathroom door shut behind her.

Pacey groaned, his eyes falling shut. He thought for a second about just leaving, but something inside him pushed that thought away. He rolled off the bed and to his feet, strolling to the bathroom door he knocked on it. “Potter, that’s *not* why I’m here.”

She folded her arms across her chest and leaned against the back of the door, hating that she felt like crying over this. “Go. Away.”

He tried the door handle, locked as he expected. He braced his hands on either side of the door, his head hanging down between his shoulders. “I’m here because I want to be, Joey. Whether we have sex or sit on your bed watching movies all night, I just...want to spend time with you.” When did that happen? He wondered.

She bit the inside of her cheek, the corner of her mouth turning up slightly at his words but that still didn’t make up for him not taking her work seriously. She frowned. Joey prided herself on her writing, even if she did find the whole assignment deplorable in the beginning she had really begun to make a conscious effort in her work. If he knew anything about her at all, he would know how much her work meant to her. She had went and made herself learn about a sport, she’d had known nothing about before to hear him just sum it up as just something to make him look good really annoyed her.

“Joey, please. I don’t care about the article, I care about you.”

She grimaced, her resolve hardening at his words. She clenched her jaw. “You don’t get it. Go away.”

“What don’t I get, Joey?” He let out a frustrated breath.

She growled. “This might come as a big surprise for you, but I care about the article. I like my work. I love my job and it’s not just about making you look good, so you can just go to hell!”

Oh, so that’s what was making her so mad. “You’re right, Potter,” he said through the door. “I haven’t read your article.”

“Yeah, right. So go away.”

He ignored her request, “But it’s not because I don’t respect what you do. I just don’t like reading about myself, so I try not to do it. I didn’t think it mattered to you what I thought of it.”

She glared at the door. “Well, it kind of matters when you think it’s just something to make you look good.”

“Honestly, I don’t know what it’s for! All I know is that Jack said it needed to be done to keep my contract. I lose the contract, I lose the money. I lose the money, Andie loses the orphanage. As far as I’m concerned, it’s just a means to an end.”

She let out a frustrated groan and stepped away from the door, grabbing the closest thing to her, which happened to be her bottle of mouthwash, at the door. “GO AWAY!”

He growled low in his throat. “Joey, come on. Please, don’t get like this. I know that making me look good is not what the article is about. And I know you’ve been working hard on it and you’re proud of it. I’m sorry I haven’t read it.”

Joey was quiet for a moment before she released an exhausted breath and reluctantly opened the door.

His eyes were hopeful when they lifted to meet hers. “You wanna know the real reason I haven’t read any of it?”

She looked at him plainly. “Why?”

He held up his hand, a tiny space between his thumb and forefinger. “I’m just a teensy bit scared of what you’ve written.”

“I thought you didn’t care.”

“That’s what I tell myself so I don’t have to admit that I’m scared to know what you think of me.”

She smiled faintly. “I think you’re annoying.”

He returned the smile weakly. “That part doesn’t scare me.”

“And you do have an ego. The last couple of articles have been about the team. Sorry to burst your bubble.”

“Better they be about the team, than me,” he replied. “So, are we okay, or are you still mad at me?”

She shrugged. “I guess...” The sound of her cell phone ringing interrupted them, and Joey gently pushed past him to go answer it. She grabbed the small phone off her bed and raised it to her ear. “Hello?”

“Joey, good news!” Kyle’s excited voice came through the line.

She raised an eyebrow dubiously knowing good news to Kyle wouldn’t necessarily mean good news for her. “What is it?”

“They want the article. They’re going to buy it from us!”

“Are you serious?” She bit her lip, her eyes wide.

“Very serious. Dead serious. Starting Monday, every major newspaper in the country is going to be reading your words. And the opening week of the season, ESPN magazine is printing the entire collection.”

She dropped down onto the edge of her bed in shock. “Oh my god.”

“There’s talk Sports Illustrated might be interested, but I’ve yet to hear anything final from them.” Kyle continued about a few other magazines that might be interested and the money.

Pacey came to her side, a worried frown on his face and sat beside her. He rubbed her back lightly, trying to soothe whatever had put that shocked look on her face.

“Wow.” She couldn’t bring herself to say much else.

“Listen, I don’t mean to put any additional pressure on you. I thought about not even telling you, so that you wouldn’t worry about it. But I thought you deserved to know just what a success you are. This is big news, Joey. Go out and celebrate!”

She smiled embarrassedly. “Thanks.”

“I’ll let you go now, Joey. Keep up the great work!”

“I will and thanks.” She grinned stupidly.

“No, thank you, Jo,” he said before hanging up his end of the line.

She hit the end button, in disbelief. She still couldn’t believe it. They wanted to buy her article. Hers! Starting tomorrow everyone in America would be reading her words. It just seemed too good to be true.

“What was that about?”

“That was my editor.”

“Good news, I take it from your smile.”

“Unbelievable news.”

He smiled at her. “Are you going to tell me?”

“I’m still trying to process it.”

“Okay,” he waited patiently.

She sighed happily and fell onto her back with a small bounce. “They want to buy my column. ESPN magazine is going to print the entire collection and starting Monday every major newspaper in the country will be running it.”

He blinked. “Wow. Joey, that’s fantastic!”

She stuck her tongue between her teeth smugly. “I know.”

“Come on.” He took her hand and pulled her to stand in front of him. “Change into something nice, and I’ll be back in twenty minutes to pick you up.”

She looked at him curiously. “Why?”

“You don’t expect me to hear news like this and not take you out to dinner, do you?”

“I’d rather just stay here.”

“Nope.” He shook his head with a smile. “This is a going out occasion.” He kissed her cheek lightly then headed for the door. “Twenty minutes.”

She smiled. “Fine. Twenty minutes it is.”

“Bye.” He closed the door behind him.

She released an excited girlish squeal and fell back on her bed. For once, she didn’t care how foolish she sounded. They were going to buy her article.