Chapter 1

It was a cold November night in the middle of New York City. You were standing outside a filthy nightclub with a cigarette in one hand and a Mojito in the other. The rain was pouring while yellow cabs were driving passed you on the street. The loud techno music was blaring from inside and the mixed smell of alcohol and smoke made your head spin nauseously. A guy was standing close, facing you. You were talking and you remember that you liked his hair. It was curly, wild and blonde.

You'd had a few drinks and your mouth was going without you really realizing what you were saying. It happens to you a lot. Your filter is usually pretty non-existent. But under the influence of alcohol, it seems to disappear completely. You don't really know how you got into the topic. Somehow you managed to blurt out that you were gay, something you would never admit to while being sober. No one knows you're gay, so the smart-level of you blurting it to a total stranger at a club in the middle of New York City on a Friday night is not very high.

You should probably consider yourself lucky, that the guy with the nice hair also turned out to be gay, and drunk enough to admit to his own homosexuality. But he did not forget to inform you that "it's a secret" and that you had to keep quiet about it. You promised to keep his secret as long as he also kept yours. Somehow you ended up becoming something of drunken lovers after the gay stranger comes up with the brilliant idea of you two fake-dating to mislead your friends and family and make them think you're both straight as a rope dancer's rope. Somehow, you also ended up following this gay stranger home, because you were tired and he lived close by, and then you collapsed onto his bed after removing your too tight dress and your too high heels.

When you wake up the next morning in a king sized bed wearing only red lace underwear and your black hair splayed wildly across a soft white pillow, you obviously jump to the worst conclusion. You went home with someone last night and you had sex with them.

But before you look over at the person snoring next to you to find out how good you managed to score, your eyes catch another movement in the other end of the room.

A blonde girl wearing black yoga pants and a sports bra is standing in the doorway with a pair of white headphones in her ears connected to an iPod in her hand. Your eyes also take notice of the way her sports bra isn't covered with any form of shirt and the way her chest rises up and down with her rapid breathing distracts you enough from the slight panic you're feeling upon your discovery of the girl. Her mouth is slightly agape as she looks at you like she didn't expect to find you there, in this bed this Saturday morning. She also looks at you like you maybe should pull the sheets up to cover your own exposed body.

The snoring suddenly stops abruptly and the person next to you quickly sits up looking utterly confused and kind of in pain. His hair stands on ends and your brain starts to slowly connect the dots when your bed partner riffles a hand through his curly wild hair.

The realization slowly dawns on you that you didn't have sex with anyone last night. You went home with a male gay stranger and fell into a deep sleep in his bed with most of your clothes next to you on the floor and you start to realize how this might look for the blonde girl standing in the doorway.

As if reading your mind, someone utters a swift, "Well, this is awkward."

Your brain is too slow to catch exactly where the sound comes from, but you're lucky to already be looking at the blonde girl's lips to know that it was her mouth forming those words.

Then you realize what she said and your cheeks grow insanely hot while the gay guy next to you keeps one hand in his hair while he rubs his eyes with the other.

"Where am I?" the guy asks in a moaning whisper and you quickly whip your head over to him, a little too fast for your hangover brain, but your panic drowns out the headache.

You're a bit astonished and dazed by his words. "Wait, you don't live here?" you ask the guy with a slight quiver to your voice as you dart your eyes between the gay guy and the hot blonde. Your voice is raspy and your headache only intensifies after you've spoken.

You hear a giggle and your cheeks grow even warmer as you look at the girl crossing her arms across her chest.

As if you weren't there and didn't just ask a question, the girl looks over at your bed partner. "Jeremy, we're meeting dad for brunch in half an hour. You can bring the hottie if you want but I think dad would like to know in advance before you bring over any guests." She pauses, and with a shrug of her shoulder she adds, "You know how he is."

As the blonde girl turns around and closes the door behind her, random stranger is falling back against the mattress with a loud thud.

You don't know what to be more confused about. The fact that the guy you went home with might not even live here, or the fact that the blonde and him might share a dad, or the fact that the blonde referred to you as a hottie.

You decide that the latter is what's most important so you look at the door and try with your stare to get the blonde to come back and explain to you if she really thought of you as a hottie or if she was just being silly.

It doesn't work and instead you're stuck in a dark bedroom with a groaning gay man.

You keep referring to him as a gay man in your head because you find it rather amusing that you, a gay girl, is laying in bed with a gay guy, in only your underwear.

"Do you want to come to brunch?"

Out of all the things you could imagine him saying at this point, that sentence was probably the least expected. Your instant reaction is to shake your head 'no' with an embarrassing smile. The only thing you want to do right now is go home. He looks understanding as he throws the covers off his half naked body and rolls out of bed.

As you pull the covers off your body and begin the search for your clothes from last night, the gay guy takes the opportunity to politely introduce himself to you again.

"I'm Jeremy, by the way." He looks at you sheepishly from the other side of the room and you give him a smile in return. "I think we exchanged names last night, but I can't remember yours."

You take no offense even though his face tells you that you should.

"I'm Santana," you offer instead and he smiles brightly.

"Oh, one more thing…" He ruffles his curly hair again and you start to think it's one of his bad habits. "Are we dating?" He asks it so nonchalantly that you almost want to laugh, but you hold back a smile and shrug your shoulders.

You remember talking about fake dating last night and you must admit that it sounded like a better plan then with a few alcoholic drinks in your body and with less daylight. But you'll also admit that it doesn't sound like a completely stupid idea now either.

"So, you're not out?" you ask, just to clarify both of your situations.

Jeremy shakes his head with a guilty expression and it's almost like looking into a mirror and seeing your own personal emotions.

"Me neither," you say quickly to ease the tension and he screws his mouth up to the side.

"My parents are pretty close-minded," he tells you as an explanation and you roll your eyes as you mumble out a quiet 'same here'.

"So, we're dating?" he asks again and this time you answer 'yes' without hesitation.

Jeremy turns around to open the door to the bedroom but before he opens it the whole way, he quickly closes it again, and turns back to you.

"Should we have any rules?" He bites his lip uncertainly.

You shrug a shoulder, "Probably." Jeremy chews his lips and then pulls out a phone from his jean's pocket.

"I'll take your number, and then we can talk and figure out all the details like later tonight or something."

You agree with a nod to your head quickly as you punch your number into his phone.

"All set," you say as you give the phone back.

"This is crazy," Jeremy says with a nervous laugh and you bite your lip as you quietly agree.

You think you'll probably regret this decision later but it's not like it's too late to back down. You haven't set any rules yet and if you change your mind you could always just ignore his call and act like last night and this morning never existed.

You and Jeremy share one more nervous laugh before you begin the trip down the stairs.

As you get a glimpse of a front door and a flash of golden locks running past it, you suddenly remember one of the questions that popped up before.

You halt Jeremy by tugging roughly at his shirt and he stumbles back a bit and you kind of want to apologize because you didn't mean to be so rough.

Instead you lean into his ear and whisper harshly, "So do you live here?"

He chuckles before shaking his head amusingly. "I do," he whispers back. "I share this house with my sister, Brittany, who came in earlier. She's 23, two years older than me, and -"

Before he can continue the sentence, Brittany appears at the bottom of the stairs, curiously looking up at you.

Apparently she misinterpreted you and Jeremy's position as something intimate, as she amusedly calls,

"Love birds, hurry up!"

You quickly fumble down the stairs behind Jeremy and he leads you down to the front door.

"So…" Brittany's smirking at you as you pull your high heels on and you try to act like her stare isn't making you uncomfortable. "Who are you?"'

You open your mouth to answer but quickly shut it again when you can't find a good enough explanation.

You're just about to answer something stupid when Jeremy jumps to your rescue.

"She's S-santana," he says rather hesitantly and you smile to encourage him. "She's my, um, my… girlfriend." He rushes out the last word in a whisper. You nudge his arm and he clears his throat, "She's my girlfriend," he says again, more certainly.

You chance a glance at Brittany as you strain your lips into a confident smile but as your eyes land upon her face; your smile turns into a less confident grimace.

She's smirking at you like she doesn't believe her brother's words to any extent. Or she just finds it extremely amusing that her brother has a girlfriend.

"M-hm, I see," is the only words that Brittany gives you. Jeremy fleets his eyes around the room nervously as you finish putting your shoes on and you find the whole situation extremely uncomfortable.

"So, Santana," The way she says your name is almost making your chest flutter but you swallow quickly and dart your eyes away from her stare. "Are you coming to brunch?"

Jeremy is quick to explain to Brittany that you need to get home, but maybe another time.

You meet Brittany's eyes again and this time you can't help your stomach from doing a summersault.

"Aw, come on. I'm sure dad would love to meet my brother's new girlfriend." She's pouting with her lower lip and you try your hardest to look away but you can't. "And I sure would like to get to know you better." She tilts her head down and her eyes are so blue. You want to get to know her too, so much.

"Y-yeah, okay."

You ignore Jeremy's confused eyes that are boring into the side of your face as you casually pull your arms through your jacket.

Next thing you know, you're sitting in Brittany's car next to Jeremy on your way to a brunch with their dad.

This quickly became so much more serious than what it should've been.

Damn her pout and damn your weak body.

Tell me if you're interested in reading more. Should I continue with this idea?