Thank you guys for all of the story alerts and favorites. I want to thank all of my reviewers, too though. You guys make me want to update faster. Sorry to the anons that I can't reply to though. :(

Anyway, I'll shut up so you guys can read. Leave me some feedback? I appreciate it. Flashbacks are in italics...and I had to use Lucky. You'll see. ;P

OOOO

The first thing she noticed was that she had a headache. There was a glass of water and two Advil resting on her nightstand and the blinds had been closed to prevent the sun from shinning through. She looked around the small room to see a pair of dress pants in the corner, along with a coat, shirt, and tie. Immediately she panicked.

She had never had a one night stand in her life. Surely she hadn't had one the night before.

It was then that she heard the shouts.

She knew that the couple that lived next door to her fought a lot-so she knew what it sounded like when there were screams outside of her apartment. She was, however, fairly certain that these shouts were coming from her own. She eased out of bed, thanking God when she realized she was clothed, and tiptoed to her small living room.

Her jaw dropped. Clearly Sam Evans worked out. He was standing tall in nothing but a pair of boxers. He was pointing and shouting at her boyfriend, while her boyfriend did the same in return.

"Look, just because you don't mind helping cheat doesn't mean I do," Sam shouted. The veins in his neck were becoming more prominent by the second. "You're just like you were in high school, Finn. You're an asshole, and God, I may not know Quinn at all, but I already know she doesn't deserve a prick like you."

"You don't know me anymore, Sam." Finn's voice was actually calm for once. "That doesn't even matter. Why are you in my girlfriend's apartment naked? Did she slut it up with you? Or did you have to trick her into sleeping with you?" Quinn's jaw dropped. She could not, for the life of her, understand how they previously knew each other.

"Don't talk about her like that," Sam barked. It didn't even register with the blonde that Finn had been trashing her. "You're still an idiot, Finn. You always will be. We didn't do anything. Had I known she was dating Finn Hudson then you can know I wouldn't have even showed up at Santana's damn party at all."

"Enough," Quinn shouted after hearing enough. Both boys jumped, clearly startled that Quinn was there. "Finn, if you'll just let me explain then you'll see that Sam and I didn't do anything wrong." Finn grumbled but nodded. She then turned to look at Sam who was avoiding eye contact. "Sam," she whispered. He looked up briefly. "How do you two know each other?"

"Look." He cleared his throat. "I need to go. It was nice meeting you, Quinn." She frowned. She wasn't sure why she felt sad at the prospect of him going but she did. "Finn, take care," he grumbled before heading for the door.

"Wait," Quinn shouted. Finn arched an eyebrow and crossed his hands over his chest. Sam slowly turned around and looked at the blonde girl. "You aren't wearing clothes," she stated. Sam shrugged his shoulders and smiled before continuing his way out the door.

There were stranger people in Los Angeles.

Quinn rubbed her temples before tugging at Finn's wrist. "What is wrong with you, Finn?" Her words were harsh."Do you not trust me? Because that's really what it sounded like and that would be truly ironic." The tall boy shoved his hands into his jean pockets and looked down in shame.

"That's not it, Quinn," he sighed. "You know I say things I don't mean when I'm mad." Quinn chose not to comment. "I'm sorry but what am I supposed to think? I come over to hang out with my girlfriend and a naked Sam Evans is sitting around!" Quinn groaned; the headache caused from her previous night was catching up to her.

She treaded her way back to her room, mentally cursing Finn for following her. "How do you know Sam?" She questioned before turning around long enough to see Finn's jaw open and close. He ran a hand through his hair before sitting down on her bed and patting the spot beside her.

"If I tell you about Sam will you like…tell me why he was in here?" Quinn nodded. Finn looked deep in thought. His eyes scanned the room as though he were looking for something.

"We went to the same high school." Quinn nodded before pulling away from Finn's arms and sliding under the covers. "We didn't get along so I guess a big part of me wanted to yell at him 'cause I don't like him." She rolled her eyes at the immaturity of the boy in front of her. "So, why was he in your apartment?"

"I met him last night. His friends invited me to tag along to a karaoke bar." Finn looked at her blankly. "I guess I drank a little too much. Sam was a perfect gentleman. He made sure I got home safely. He slept on the couch." Finn smiled goofily before forcing the blonde to scoot over.

"I'm sorry I doubted you," he whispered before pressing a kiss to her temple. He eased under the covers and wrapped his arms around her. "I'm glad you decided to give me another chance, Babe."

His embrace was doing nothing for her. She had been vaguely aware of Sam holding her throughout the previous night and it was everything that Finn's embrace was not. Sam was loving and gentle; whereas, Finn was simply smothering. Finn only wanted to stake his claim.

"Finn?"

"Yeah, Babe?" She hated being called that.

"Why didn't you two get along in high school?" Finn stiffened. She wondered if Finn had done something to the boy in high school.

"Do you plan on seeing him again?" Finn questioned hesitantly. Quinn frowned. There was no way she would be able to see him again. She hadn't gotten a phone number or anything.

"No," she replied sadly. Finn sighed what Quinn thought was a breath of relief. He pressed a lingering kiss to her neck before inhaling deeply.

"Sam wasn't the nicest guy in high school." Quinn's jaw dropped. She had known the boy for a few hours at most but he seemed like a genuine sweetheart. "He was like obsessed with himself. He had this stupid haircut and, and stuff," Finn stuttered. "I had this girlfriend that I…uh, I really loved, you know? She was my first love." Quinn nodded before attempting to ease out of his crushing arms. "I found out that Sam had been running around with her behind my back. She'd like-been cheating on me the entire time." Quinn's stomach dropped.

She didn't know why finding out about Sam's past hurt her so much but it did. He had seemed like such a genuinely nice guy.

"What are you going to be singing tonight, Mr. Evans?" Quinn slurred before throwing back her drink. Sam watched with wide eyes before pulling the glass away from the blonde. "Hey," she playfully swatted his arm, "what was that for?"

"I think you've had a little too much to drink already, Quinn." He smiled before walking her over to their table. "I haven't sung in years, Blondie," he refuted with a chuckle. "I don't think that's going to be changing tonight."

She frowned before reaching out to grab his forearm. He had removed his blazer and had rolled the sleeves of his shirt up so that she was touching his bare skin. She immediately felt tingles from where her skin met his. "Please sing something for me," she whispered, ignoring the odd stares from the rest of their table.

"Quinn, you really don't understand," he tried again. "I'm not going to sing." She scoffed before reaching for Puck's beer and taking a swallow.

"That's hot," the Mohawked boy shouted, much to Santana's disgust.

"Sam, please," she whined. Unsure of why she wanted to hear the boy sing so much, she attempted to play his rejection down. His green eyes met hers, flickering with something she was unsure of.

"Listen," Santana shouted into Quinn's ear. "Sam here got burned pretty badly in high school by this chick that sang all of the time. Since then this loser over here hasn't sung a note." Sam glared at the Latina.

"Shut up, Santana." The dark haired girl looked apologetic for a split second but then shrugged it off. "Fine, come on," Sam shouted before grabbing Quinn's wrist and tugging her.

"What are we doing?" He steadied her wobbling form before going over to Puck and whispering something into his ear. He reappeared by her side and directed her to the front of the bar where the stage was located.

"We're going to sing. I told Puck to go pick the song for us." Quinn's face immediately paled.

"Wait, I can't sing," she stuttered, partly because she was drunk but mostly because she was nervous. Sam gave her a toothy grin before helping her up on the small platform.

"Oh well," he sing-songed.

Quinn watched with wide eyes as a bulky man handed them both a microphone before waltzing away. Puck sent her a wink before easing back over to the group. She turned to face Sam, who looked more than nervous. He looked downright afraid. A familiar guitar riffed through the speakers.

Sam glared in the general direction of their table before easing the mic up to his face.

Her jaw dropped upon hearing his voice. She truly hadn't been expecting such a sound to come from his lips. He swayed with the music before somehow ending up beside her. He grabbed her free hand and sang strictly to her.

With a shaky breath she began her part.

She could tell, even with the dimly lit room, that his eyes had lit up at hearing her voice. It made her feel good for some reason.

"Lucky I'm in love with my best friend…"

She smiled upon thinking about how amazing their voices had sounded together. She was brought out of her thoughts by Finn's voice. "Quinn?"

"What?" She groaned. "Sorry," she added lamely. "Finn, why are you over here?"

"I was just coming to check on you. Isn't that what good boyfriends do?" He questioned. She rolled over to see him looking at her with his signature goofy grin in place. "I knew you would forgive me. We're just meant to be and stuff." She rolled her eyes but he didn't see. "I love you, you know," he whispered before inching in closer.

"Sam, you sounded like a rock star," she whispered into his neck at the end of the song while they hugged. She felt his arms encircle her waist before he began to laugh quietly. "You should quit your day job," she added.

"That's a bad idea," he replied before helping her back to their table. The entire group was staring at them as though they had gotten naked and ran around the building, or something equally insane. "What are you guys looking at?"

"Dude, that was kickass," Puck interrupted the awkward silence, which was followed by more cheers and praises."Totally better than those lame duets you'd sing back in the day." Santana voiced her agreements before cuddling into the ditzy blonde beside her.

"I think I'm going to walk Quinn out," he stated. She wanted to protest or pout-something to keep her there, but even in her drunken state she knew it would be incredibly ridiculous to do such a thing.

The rest of the group said their goodbyes. The two of them made their way out into the fresh air. The lights from the neon sign of the bar were giving an almost incredibly glow to the brunette boy in front of her. "Thanks for the song," Sam supplied before shoving his hands into his coat pockets. "I'm glad I sang with you."

"We sounded good together," she replied, to which Sam nodded. "I guess I'll go home now." She awkwardly turned around before stumbling slightly off the sidewalk.

"Quinn," Sam shouted before rushing over to her and grabbing her waist. "Let me drive you, okay?" She would have protested, but the way his arms felt around her made her feel too good to want him to leave.

"Okay," she replied simply.

The drive back to her apartment was incredibly uncomfortable. She spent the entire time attempting to give directions, which seemed to be more difficult when drunk. Sam would laugh at her blatant stupidity but reassured her it was nothing short of cute.

She smiled upon seeing his blush at saying those words.

They stumbled into her building. She would giggle loudly before clutching at him intensely. "Will you come up to my apartment? I may fall without you."

"Sure," he replied before tightening his hold around her and following her.

They made it inside in enough time for Quinn to realize she was going to be sick. She ran to her bathroom, praying that Sam wouldn't follow.

He did.

Instead of complaining about how gross it was and rushing out of the bathroom like someone else would, he began to rub soothing circles on her back while pulling her blonde hair back with his hands. "It's alright," he whispered. "This is why I quit drinking," he admitted with a chuckle.

She pulled away from the porcelain and watched as he flushed the toilet before rushing around looking for a washcloth. Upon finding one, he soaked it in the sink before placing it gently against her forehead. "We should get you to bed. The more sleep you get the…less rough you will feel when morning comes around." Quinn groaned before leading the way to her bedroom.

"Thank you," she croaked. He simply smiled before easing her into the bed.

"It was a pleasure meeting you," he called from the doorway. "It was an even greater pleasure getting to sing with you, Quinn. Take care, alright?" She nodded and watched as he turned to leave.

"Will you please stay with me?" He stopped, dead in his tracks, and turned around slowly. She would have been embarrassed had she not been so drunk and needy. He looked torn but eventually nodded. She watched through hooded eyes as he slowly removed his coat and tossed it to the ground. His tie came next. He looked as though he contemplated removing his shirt and pants but decided against it.

"I'll sleep on the couch?" Quinn shook her head before patting the empty space beside her. He flushed before slowly walking over. "This is a one night stand without the hook up," he stated. "Damn it, I'm sorry. I keep saying dumb things around you."

"Help me get naked." His eyes looked as though they were going to pop out of his skull. She began to laugh loudly upon realizing what she had said. "I mean, help me put my sleep clothes on!"

"Uh…" He looked at his hands nervously. "Sure." He began to awkwardly shift through her drawers, grabbing the first pair of sweats and oversized t-shirt he could find.

She began to giggle again upon seeing his entire body flush as he turned around to find her already down to her panties and bra. She kicked at the dress that had pooled at her feet, sending it near his discarded clothes. He held the sweatpants out for her to step in.

She stumbled, like a fool, of course causing him to grab her waist to steady her. He gasped but did nothing but help her ease her legs into the material.

He slid the t-shirt over her head and helped her put her arms through the shirt before trying to get her back to the bed. "You can take those off if you want," she whispered. She watched with awe as his shaky fingers unbuttoned his shirt to reveal an amazing body.

She reached out and touched his chest before looking up into his eyes. They reflected lust-but even more than that fear. She tentatively and shakily reached up onto her tiptoes before pressing a tender kiss to his lips. He let out a puff of air before re-attaching his lips to hers.

The kiss was loving and sensual despite the fact that she was drunk He eased her back to the bed before gently placing her under the covers and pressing a warm kiss to her temple. "Get some sleep, Quinn," he whispered before going around to the other side.

She could hear him removing his slacks but refused to turn around and look. She felt the bed shift before strong arms wrapped around her.

Finn's lips were eager on hers. The kiss was rough-almost to the point of bruising. She felt his hands trailing up her body before resting over her breasts. She pushed him away as thoughts of Sam filled her mind.

"Finn, I don't feel well." He nodded before sliding out of bed and putting his shoes back on.

"I'm going out," he shouted before leaving.

OOOO

"So, how was she? The nice girls are usually the freaky ones," Puck shouted in between bites of food. Sam rolled his eyes at his best friend before looking back down at his laptop. "You gotta give me some kind of detail, man."

"All that went on in the bed was sleeping, Puck. I promise." Puck nodded. "Get this though-do you know who her boyfriend is?" Puck scooted his chair up, eager for some kind of dirt. As much of a studly man as Puck claimed to be, he could never pass up on gossip.

"Who? Dude, who is it?" Sam swallowed thickly and sighed.

"Finn. Our Finn, Puck." Sam watched as Puck's eyes darkened. In a flash the boy was out of his chair, pacing Sam's office.

"That douche doesn't need a girl like Quinn. She seemed nice and shit. Finn's the polar opposite." Sam nodded before continuing to read through various e-mails he had been sent. "I guess it's for the best that you didn't sleep with the girl-even though he would have deserved it. But that chick is tainted shit."

"Hey," Sam snapped after pulling his glasses of. "Don't talk about her, alright?" Puck's eyes widened as a small smile made its way across his face. He held his hands up in surrender.

"Evans," Mrs. Epstein announced after barging into his office unannounced. "Please come to my office." He nodded and watched as the woman went.

"I really hate that bitch," Sam grumbled, to Puck's amusement.

He told Puck goodbye before making his way towards his boss's office. Thoughts of his previous night flashed back before his eyes. The kiss he had shared with her had made him feel so many things-he knew he was screwed. "Mrs. Epstein," he greeted.

"Samuel, I take it you've had a good day." He nodded. "I've set up your date for tonight. Be nice to the girl. She's a catch." He sighed. He wasn't ready to date. He wished he could tell his boss that but surely it wouldn't end well at all.

"I will be there. Just send me an email with the details?" She nodded.

"Be sure you show her a good time. You could benefit well from being with her." He smiled at her, albeit a forced smile. He turned to go before a thought struck him.

"Oh, Mrs. Epstein, I've been thinking." She waved for him to continue. He sat down in the seat in front of her desk before clenching the chair nervously. "I think it would be beneficial to us if we opened an e-mail account for me-or well, for Ryan."

"Continue…"

"See, these girls have to send me a message from our website. From there the email goes to me, but I can't personally respond to them. I have to write back to a select few via the magazine." He watched closely as his boss pursed her lips. "I think if we set up an email account so they can email me instead of having our site be the middle man…Well, I think that would work best. I could reply immediately."

"Sam, that isn't a bad idea." He smiled. "But, most of the women that write you like the anonymity that messaging you from the website provides. Do you really think they'll want to risk that?" He nodded. She sighed before flipping through various pages of the upcoming edition of their magazine. "Is this what going out with my girl is going to cost me?" She smiled.

"I believe it is, Mrs. Epstein," he replied.

"You play a hard bargain, Samuel, but I love it. I'll have Teddy set you up an email account and fish it through our website. I think we can have it running before the next issue comes out." He nodded, a smile on his face.

"Thank you," he replied before getting out of the chair and heading towards the door.

"Sam, she'll have a rose on the table. Think You've Got Mail or something." He nodded again before finally leaving.

OOOO

He looked at his reflection in his car and sighed before looking at the restaurant in front of him.

He had gone home long enough to take his work clothes off. He didn't care about impressing his date. He simply threw on some old jeans and a grey v-neck.

He shrugged off his nervousness and walked up to the main door and entered. He felt slightly insane standing around looking for a flower. Out of the corner of his eyes he found the offensive item and made his way over to the table, too afraid to actually look at the girl.

He closed his eyes before pulling the chair out and sitting down.

Upon opening them his jaw dropped while his world collapsed around him.

"Rachel?" He croaked as the petite brunette girl, who still looked the same, nodded with a small smile. He promptly pushed the chair back and stood up, ready to leave.

"Sam, wait, please," she shouted before jumping out of her chair and grabbing his wrist. The touch made him feel physically sick. He wanted to scrub the patch of skin with hot water until he was free of her. "Please," she pleaded.

"No," he replied without looking. "This can't be happening." He turned around long enough to glare at her. "Did you know it was me?" She looked away. "Rachel!" Her eyes snapped up to meet his. "Did you? Did you know that it was me?"

"Sam, please stay long enough to hear me out."

"Rachel," he growled. "Did you know that I would be the guy coming here tonight?" He watched as she fidgeted nervously.

"Yes," she replied lowly. "I did." His laugh was sarcastic and humorless.

"I don't deserve this," he whispered to himself. He was then flooded with thoughts of his boss. If he treated Rachel horribly then he would no doubt get fired. He clenched his fist before walking back over their table and sitting down. Seconds later Rachel bounded after him with a small smile on her face.

"Thank you," she whispered before reaching out to touch his hand again. He quickly pulled it away and ignored the hurt look on her face.

Twice in the same day he had been forced to face his past.

And it sucked.

"You looked different," she stated. "When did you start wearing glasses?" He shrugged his shoulders and watched as she visibly deflated. He hated that he was beginning to feel bad for the way he was treating her.

"I've always worn them, I guess. I just wore contacts in high school. It made me feel less like a dork," he stated out of nowhere. "Rachel, I'm not going to lie, this is hard for me. I can't sit here without wanting to push you in that chocolate fountain or something."

"I wouldn't say that I didn't deserve that," she replied. "I know that you aren't interested in a relationship with me. I'm not here to try and sweep you off your feet or anything." He nodded. "But Jonah said his wife knew a boy that he wanted me to go out with I couldn't exactly say no."

"I know what you mean. Mrs. Epstein threatened to fire me if I didn't show up." Rachel gasped. "No, you don't need to use your connections with the ACLU." He immediately regretted saying it. They had been having a civil conversation and he had ruined it by referring to their past. Rachel chose to say nothing. "So, you're, uh, single now?"

"I have been for a while now, actually," she replied. Sam wondered if she had cheated again. She seemed to pick up on his thoughts. "He was cheating on me. Almost the entire time. It's funny, isn't it?"

"You know I think you deserve that, Rachel." She nodded before looking down at her hands. "But because I've been through it and know how much it screws you up…I wouldn't wish it on anyone. Not even you."

"You've always been such a sweet guy, Sam," she replied before being interrupted by a waiter. After giving their respective orders she leaned forwards.

"I saw Finn earlier today," Sam commented. "The first time since we graduated and I see you and him on the same day." Rachel giggled. "Is he the one that cheated on you?" She nodded. "That guy is such a douche," he mumbled again for the nth time that day.

"Your hair looks so different, too," she stated in an attempt to make the conversation easier. He nodded before running a hand through it.

"I grew out of my surfer guy phase," he chuckled.

"Sam, I still keep in touch with Brittany." He nodded. "She seems to be the only one from our group of friends who didn't side with either one of us." Sam somewhat felt guilty. Once their broken relationship had been shed to light all of Rachel's friends jumped ship and supported Sam. "She told me about how you helped Santana…"

"It wasn't really that big of a deal. I just kind of told her who I thought was serious and stuff." She nodded before taking a sip out of her water.

"I have somewhat of a proposition for you." He clenched the tablecloth nervously. "I work at a record label-kind of." His brows furrowed. "I was hoping that you might consider helping me out there…you're good with business-don't deny it. You also have an ear for talent. You could help me."

"What are you, like PR?" She opened her mouth to speak but was once again interrupted by the waiter.

"Look Sam," she whispered once the man had left, "I understand that you don't like me, but I could really use your help. I will pay you, of course. I'll pay you double what I would anyone else since I know how much this is going to trouble you."

"Rachel," he tried to interrupt but was shot down.

"You can still work with your magazine. Your hours won't be rough at all. Please, Sam. We were once friends before we began things romantically. Perhaps this could repair that friendship? And if not then you still get a lot of money out of it."

"Rachel," he sighed before rubbing his temples. "I don't know. This is putting me on the spot."

"I'll draw up a contract with my lawyer!" She shouted. "You can get Santana to read it so you know that everything is legitimate."

"I'll think about it, Rachel…but I really can't make you any promises. You're asking a lot from me." She nodded. "Um, let's just eat for now."