This was briefly mentioned in a deleted scene where Luke tells Beca the only reason he finally listened to her mix was because Jesse kept telling him to.

Disclaimer: I don't own Pitch Perfect. (But I finally bought the DVD today so.)

"I'm not discussing this again."

"Not today."

"Maybe later."

Another week had passed, but Jesse wasn't giving up.

They'd been through this before. Jesse's gaze fell briefly to the floor as embarrassment flooded his features. This wasn't the first time he had bothered Luke with the notion of giving Beca's music a listen, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. He could tell Luke had no intention of listening to the tapes piled up in the suggestion bin. All Luke had to do was listen to one, and Jesse knew he'd be hooked. Just one. Time after time, whenever Beca wasn't around, Jesse was asking him about playing new music. Nearly always, the answer was something akin to "no." But that didn't stop Jesse. He'd see him around campus and hunt him down; he'd see him in the quad and chase him across the grass; he'd corner him in the studio.

"Luke, can I talk to you for a sec?" Luke rounded the corner of the shelf with Jesse hot on his heels.

"Make it quick," he consented with a sigh.

Jesse sets the crate of albums on the desk and follows Luke timidly into the sound booth. Luke doesn't stop him, so he continues with slightly higher confidence. "I really think you should listen to Beca's mix tapes. They're really—"

"really good, I know," Luke interrupted, rolling his eyes.

"If you'd just listen to one… I think you'd like it."

Luke turned towards him with narrowed eyes. "Why is this so important to you?"

The bluntness of his question shocked Jesse. "I—Because she's my friend," he stammered.

"Uh huh…" Luke didn't appear to believe him. He turned away, and Jesse followed him desperately.

"Because she values your opinion," he added, "and this is what she wants to do with her life. She wants to make music, and she needs to know that her music is good enough to be out there. She just… needs to hear it from you."

"Why me?" Luke asked, "I mean, why can't you do it?"

"I—" Jesse fumbled with his words, "you're the station manager. She wants your opinion. She… your opinion means more to her."

Luke was silent for several moments. "You like her."

"No," Jesse argued almost too quickly, "no. She's just a friend who makes awesome music."

"You've heard them before, then?"

"Yeah," Jesse nodded with a smile, shrugging, "I mean, she's shown me a few."

"And they're worth it? You're not just saying that to get into her pants or something?"

"What?" Jesse asked, shocked, "no—no, of course not. I just told you: she's just a friend. I just… I really think you should give her a chance."

Jesse reached for one of Beca's mixes in the suggestion box. There were at least seven of hers in there now, each labeled with a different date. They had been piling up for months now, and, frankly, it made Jesse mad. He held up one of the tapes imploringly, his doe-like eyes piercing Luke's.

"Those eyes won't work on me, Jesse," Luke snapped, and Jesse recoiled in confusion. His gaze softened a bit, and his voice was sincere as he spoke again. "But I'll consider it."

Jesse's eyes lit up and he murmured a quick "thanks" to Luke before returning to his work. Fair enough.