AN: T rated chapter
Sam hadn't seen the girl next door in days. Well actually 2 days, not that he was counting or anything. In reality, he had been busy those two days since he had met his neighbors for the week. Between work, hanging out with his friends, Puck and Mike, and doing whatever was needed around the house, Sam didn't have much time to think about the girl with the hazel eyes, but the little time he did have to himself was spent thinking about her.
When he was walking the dogs, every girl who walked by him, the ones he would ogle when they weren't looking, now lacked in comparison. No girl had her eyes or her hair or her smile or her laugh. Sam had no idea why this girl had mesmerized him that quickly, but she did and it was killing him that there was no trace of her in that long, especially with the limited time that he had. He didn't want to admit that he was only there for a week, that he wasn't living in that house that he wished he could own one day. Maybe that would make it easier when they would finally have to go their separate ways.
It was only irony that the one free moment that wasn't spent thinking about her would be the one where she would show up. Sam had been on the couch, his eyes focused on the dull movie in front of him as he wondered why he was housesitting in the one household without a decent sci-fi collection when he heard light knocking on the door. Tilting his head at the golden retriever next to him as the dog did the same back to him, Sam forced himself off the couch as he wondered if he should put on a shirt before answering the door. His shirtlessness had helped him before when Jehovah's Witnesses arrived at the door ready to talk to him so he thought it would be the best idea to keep it off, just in case they came back for a second round of "Convert the non-believer."
"I'm really not interested in what you're selling so if you could please leave that would be-," Sam had begun to say, opening the giant wooden door of the house before looking down and not finding a middle aged mom in her early 40's from the suburbs with bible in hand but a 20 something blonde in a yellow sundress with her eyebrow raised.
"So you want me to leave?" Quinn asked, cautiously with Sam already kicking himself in the ass for not looking before speaking.
"No no no no, I mean if you want to, yeah, but no, I mean," Sam rambled for a few moments before he stopped talking altogether . "Hi."
"Hi… Sam. I'm Quinn from next door. We met the other day, right?," Quinn replied after a few moments, Sam reading in her eyes that she had no idea what to do.
With Sam nodding quicker than he wanted to, he waited for Quinn to start speaking again as he watched a small smile appear on her face.
"So," Sam started after a few moments of awkward silence, just realizing that the girl in front of him had come over to the house for a reason, one that didn't involve selling bibles.
"So," Quinn started, pausing with a slight giggle, "I was wondering if you could help me out with something."
"Anything," Sam replied immediately, not exactly sure what the girl wanted. Sam watched as her eyes drifted over his chest and down to his taut and muscled stomach and knew she was looking at him up and down. "Quinn," Sam called, watching her eyes pop back up to his. "What do you need help with?"
Clearing her throat, it looked like the girl was trying to retain her composure in front of him.
"Well San, you remember Santana, the scary one, she's watching Shark Week right now, something about helping her relive her natural hunter. I don't know. Anyway she's watching that and it's scaring Brittany a bit, so I volunteered to bake with her to get her mind off of it. We get to the kitchen," Quinn pausing to show what she had been hiding behind her back the entire conversation: a measuring cup, "and we have no sugar."
Sam's eyes went between the empty measuring cup and the girl slightly pouting in front of him for a few moments as he tried to figure out what she was saying.
"Oh! So you need some sugar?" Sam's eyes widened as he noticed this realization came a few minutes too late.
With the girl nodding in front of him slowly, Sam reached over to grab for the measuring cup and proceeding to close the door on the girl. It was only when he closed it did he feel like more of an idiot. Opening the door again, he saw Quinn's shocked face and began apologizing profusely. "I'm sorry, so sorry. I don't know what I'm thinking. Come in." Opening the door wide, Sam felt like apologizing more for being rude and watched as the girl walked in, her head tilting around to adapt to the environment around her.
"So you live here?" Sam heard Quinn question, her head turned back to look at him.
Looking back on it later over dinner, Sam didn't know why he said what he did. Sam didn't know why he kept saying what he did, but once it started, it couldn't be stopped. Sam answered Quinn's question with one single word.
"Yes."
Sam didn't know if it was a trick of the eyes that made him see Quinn's eyes widened in surprised before going back to normal.
"Ah. So you're married?" Quinn asked, clarifying as she said, "Santana told me that the couple who lives here is married."
"Yes," Sam answered again, despite everything inside of him saying "NO! NO!"
Quinn's eyes seemed focus on the books in the bookcase as Sam waited for her answer, getting more and more nervous.
"You don't wear a wedding band," Quinn replied nonchalantly, her eyes still on the bookcase and not on him.
"Lost it." Sam lied quickly, biting the inside of his cheek to stop himself from talking more.
Quinn said nothing, only moving farther and farther away from him and the bookcase and toward the kitchen. "Sugar?" She asked, snapping Sam back to reality and the real reason that the blonde was here. "Oh yeah, sugar. It's in this cabinet." Walking over past the golden retriever into the kitchen, Sam reached for one of the cabinets and got the bag of sugar before realizing his state of dress, or rather undress.
"Give me a second," he called out, running over to the couch to slip on a grey wife beater. Sam was in the middle of putting the piece of fabric on when he heard Quinn speak.
"So your wife must trust you a lot to leave you alone like this. I'm assuming you're alone, right?"
With his shirt on and his hair messy, Sam's eyes met with the girl. Quinn was leaning against the island counter, her head tilted slighty and her eyes focused, as if examining him from top to bottom to see what made him tick.
"Yes," Sam continued to lie. "Business trip for the week. Couldn't join her this time." Swallowing hard, Sam walked back into the kitchen, this time reaching for the measuring cup and the sugar to do what needed to be done to get her out of the house. Sam realized how quickly this turn of events had changed his view of Quinn. One second he was basically willing with his mind for her to come over, and now that she was here, he couldn't stop himself from self-sabotaging before anything could even start.
"How much do you need?" Sam asked briskly, his eyes avoiding hers.
As if knowing something was up, Sam lifted his head when he heard Quinn ask, "You okay?" Sam could almost feel her eyes burning a hole into his skull waiting for him to turn back to face her.
"I'm just trying to figure out how much sugar you need," Sam replied politely, not wanting to let anything slip.
Sam didn't know where Quinn was walking to, only hearing her light footsteps around him until she was right in front of him, the counter being the only thing between them.
"I get it. You're married. It's okay. You can totally relax." Quinn said with a soft smile, her hands placed gently on the wooden counter.
"I'm not interested, Sam. I know what boundaries are and married, at least for me, is a boundary. I'm not Santana." Sam knew that by the way Quinn laughed and smiled that she was making fun of her friend and that it would be okay for him to smile too.
"We can be friends, Sam. Don't you want to be my friend?" Quinn teased as she leaned over the counter, Sam resisting to answer how much more he wanted to be her friend.
Only nodding and biting his tongue, Quinn smiled brightly as she moved over to grab the sugar bag from Sam, their fingers briefly mingling with each other.
"I'll take a cup of sugar," Quinn declared, Sam watching her focus so intently on making sure it was all perfect. "Just in case, Britt and I mess up, we don't need to disturb you any longer."
"Really, it was no problem," Sam cut in, not liking how Quinn felt she was disturbing him and hating that she thought she was a disturbance at all. With the cup of sugar in the girl's hand, Sam watched as she began to walk out of the kitchen and through the living room, heading for the front door.
"Wait," Sam called out, watching the girl turn back to face him, eyes wide and lips slightly parted. He could have told the truth at that exact moment, that he wasn't married, that he didn't live there, that he thought she was pretty, anything, something. But with those big eyes staring him down, wondering what he was about to say, Sam's manners took over.
"Let me walk you to the door," he mumbled, catching up to Quinn quickly and walking beside her and opening the door for her. With Quinn walking out, Sam was awkward and he knew it. With no ideas of where to put his hands, one was stuffed into his pocket as the other held the door open.
"Thank you for the sugar," Quinn said, Sam noticing her slightly looking away. Sam replied with a "You're welcome," and as she proceeded to turn and walk away, Sam saw his chances that were only slipping before now completely gone.
Until she stopped.
Turning back around, Sam's eyebrow quirked as Quinn slowly approached the house again, staying at the front porch. "I was going to ask before if you wanted to come join me and Britt, with the baking, I mean, I didn't think anyone was here and you must be bored, but you're married, so I'm sure you don't want to hang out with a couple of girls and bake and wow, I'm rambling." Quinn ducked her head in embarrassment as a slight flushed appeared on her cheeks.
"I can't," Sam heard himself speak, trying to figure out a way to shut himself up, or at least shut the lies. "Don't think the wife would approve." Nodding slightly, Sam watched for a millisecond a crack in Quinn's façade. A small disappearance of a smile that was quickly back before he could realize it.
"It's fine. I understand. Thank you again, Sam." Quinn quickly muttered, this time her turn and walking away much faster than before. Closing the door this time, Sam punched the door as soon as it was closed, not even minding the throbbing pain it caused. Why couldn't he keep his stupid mouth closed? Why didn't he just tell the truth? Maybe he didn't want to feel like a loser spending his time in a stranger's house, eating the stranger's food, living the stranger's life. Going back into the kitchen, Sam collapsed over the island Quinn had been standing out just a few moments ago, this time leaning against his elbows as he ran his hands over his face and hair. He was stupid. So stupid.
Before he could stop himself or make himself change his mind, Sam decided to follow what the small voice in his head was telling him. Grabbing the keys to the house, Sam ran out the front door, barely locking it behind him. He forwent the traditional route of using sidewalks and driveways, this time running through their connected yard, jumping over a bush or two in his way. When he was at the front door, he ran his hands through his hair, taking out a rampant branch before knocking at the door. Controlling his breathing so it didn't look like he had just leaped over a bush to get over here, he knew the surprise on Quinn's face was real.
"Sam!" She said with her pitch being higher than normal. "What are you doing here?"
Sam hoped he seemed at least semi-normal as he panted out, "Baking."
With Quinn's eyebrow raised, Sam tried to clarify. "Baking with you." When her eyes widened, Sam added, "and Brittany."
With Quinn nodding tentatively, as if believing he had just gotten wasted in the few moments since they had last seen each other.
"We can still bake and stuff now, if you want." Sam said when he could finally speak coherently. "I mean, I'm married, but we're just friends. No problem with it at all."
With his broad faced grin now almost matching the small one of Quinn's, it was Sam's turn to walk into the stranger's house, hoping he could keep up the lie a little longer now that wasn't on his home turf.
AN: Thanks to all the people who put this story in their favorites, put it or me on their alerts or reviewed it! I hope this chapter didn't disappoint! I don't want to be one of those people who demands reviews in exchange for chapters so I just want to ask for a lot of reviews! Thank you!