Chapter 3

Paul was a nice enough guy. He gave me the attention that the rest of the world seemed to believe I deserved. He walked me to class and kissed my cheek before heading to his own classroom. Friday nights became date nights, him paying for dinner and sometimes a movie before driving me home. Paul always walked me to the door, his goodnight kiss a little sloppy, but always sweet.

The hallways buzzed about us for the first two weeks. Paul was a football player, but not a star. He wasn't a huge partier and his reputation was on the verge of squeaky clean. People often told me that I could do even better like it was any of their business who I chose to date. I liked the low-pressure situation of being with Paul.

To say that Santana disapproved of Paul was a gross understatement. We hardly spoke for days after the kiss at the party and when we did she just made snide, unwarranted remarks about Paul. It was Brittany who spilled the beans to Santana that Paul had asked me on an actual date and that I had accepted. We were sitting at our table in the cafeteria, just the three of us. She told me that I was being ridiculous for considering dating him for real and I wanted to disagree with her, but I couldn't do it. Paul was nice enough, but there were obviously no sparks. I scoffed at her, nut trusting myself to speak knowing she's see right through my lie.

Paul asked me to be his official girlfriend after our fourth Friday night date. It was really just a formality at this point, but he grinned widely when I accepted. His goodnight kiss lasted a little longer that night.

Upon finding out that Paul was my boyfriend, my parents insisted that he join us for dinner on the following Friday. I groaned inwardly but knew there was no point in fighting them on this. If I refused, I would be forbidden from seeing him. So instead of a date on Friday night, Paul entered the house when he rang the bell. He was wearing a pair of slightly wrinkled khaki pants and a white Oxford shirt. Around his neck was a green and navy striped tie that he tugged on nervously as I showed him into the sitting room.

My parents were both sitting in the room when we appeared in the doorway. My mom was perched on the couch, a glass of red wine resting on the coaster on the table next to her, her dress recently pressed and fitting her perfectly as usual and the string of expensive pearls gleaming around her neck.

In his normal armchair sat my father. His tie from his day at the office had been loosened and the top button of his shirt was undone. The ice in his tumbler clinked noisily as he swirled it in his hand, his eyes closed as he took in the smooth jazz playing from the stereo.

"Mom, Daddy, this is Paul," I said quietly. Paul fidgeted uncomfortably beside me. Both of my parents stood and walked over to us.

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Fabray," he said shyly, taking her hand and shaking it. My dad's eyes were frozen on Paul's every move. Paul turned to him, reddening under my father's glance.

"Nice to meet you, sir." His hand grasped my father's and I smiled at my dad's obvious approval. I knew from experience that my dad judged men by their handshake so Paul must have a good one.

Dinner went smoothly. Paul, while not very outgoing, answered my parents' constant questions with ease. He even threw in small compliments about the house and my mom's cooking much to her pleasure. Overall, it was probably better than I could've hoped for. And it all just solidified my need for making things with Paul work.

Paul said goodbye to my parents after dinner and they gave us a little privacy as I walked him to the front door. We stood awkwardly in the foyer for a few moments before I spoke.

"Thanks for doing this. They're pretty old-fashioned sometimes," I mumbled. It was one of the few moments that I noticed the age difference. He had probably met a bunch of ex-girlfriends' parents.

"I don't mind, Quinn," he said softly, brushing a tendril of hair off of my face and behind my ear. "Will you go to junior prom with me?"

My jaw dropped. I completely forgot that dating a junior would mean that I would get a coveted invitation to the prom. My heart leaped in my chest and I squeaked out an affirmation. He smiled widely, a dimple appearing in his right cheek. His kiss goodbye held more weight than it ever had before and it scared me. Was I really ready for a relationship like this? I watched his pickup truck pull down the driveway before running to my room.

Hey B. Can I come over?

Her yes came almost immediately and I convinced my mom to drive me to Brittany's since she lived on the other side of town. I didn't bother changing from my dress that I had worn for dinner.

Brittany's parents and brother weren't home, so I let myself in and bounded up the stairs to her bedroom. The door was slightly ajar so I pushed it and was a little surprised to see Santana sitting on the floor painting her toenails.

"Hey, Quinn!" said Brittany excitedly, waving me over to the bed where she was lying on her stomach watching SpongeBob cartoons.

"Hey," I said timidly. It made sense that Santana was there. They were basically inseparable and it was a Friday night. Yet I was taken aback at the sight, having hoped to talk to Brittany alone.

I sat on the edge of the bed and stared absentmindedly at the cartoon. Santana had hardly acknowledged my existence, not bothering to look up for her polishing. I watched her hands move carefully as she applied the bright red to each nail, her head bent in concentration.

"Are we having a night in?" I asked hopefully, not really wanting to be amongst people at a party tonight. Namely, I didn't want to be drunk around Santana and I had managed to avoid that for the last month.

Brittany nodded enthusiastically, passing me a gigantic bowl of popcorn. I took a small handful and moved it back to her. It was a little distraction from the awkwardness in the room.

"Paul asked me to go to prom with him," I said softly, hoping only Britt would hear me.

"Well, no shit. You're dating him and he's a junior." Santana's voice was edgy and sarcastic. I didn't respond.

"That's so much fun, Quinn! Can I go dress shopping with you? What color are you going to wear?" I knew Brittany would be the supportive friend that I needed right now. "We still have two months. I need to find a junior so we can go together!"

Her excitement was infectious, but Santana looked like she was on the verge of throwing up at the discussion. The scowl on her face made my heart ache a little, but I forced myself to push it away. We weren't anything and she didn't have any right to be upset that I was going to prom with Paul.

As the night wore on, Santana and I came to a silent agreement to avoid mentioning Paul if possible. I called my mom and told her I was going to sleepover after much convincing from Brittany. I rolled into a tight ball on my side of the bed, staying as close to the edge as possible. I could feel Brittany's arm brushing my back as I faced away from them, but at least I was safe from Santana's hand over here.

My mom was as excited as Brittany was about prom. Brittany's excitement only grew when a friend of Paul's asked her to go to prom and I was glad that she would be going. I didn't know his friends that well still, so it would be a comfort having her around. We shopped for our gowns together. She picked up a bright cobalt blue for herself almost immediately and it fit her like a glove, hugging every inch of her dancer body. It took three shops and countless hours before we found a dress for me. We agreed on a dark green gown that was simple and elegant. I twirled in it in front of the mirrors in the store and felt like a princess.

The week before prom, I heard from Puck that Santana was going to prom with Tim. I was completely shocked because she typically acted like she hated his guts. But what wrenched my stomach was Puck mentioning that Tim told the guys in the locker room that he was planning to take her virginity at the party after prom.

I blew Paul off when he was standing outside of my class to chase Santana. She had taken off as soon as the bell rang, no longer feeling the need to wait for me to walk with her. I grabbed her arm and pulled her into the closest bathroom. There was a group of sophomore girls in it, but I glared at them and they fled. I threw the lock before anybody else could enter the room.

"What the fuck, Q?" asked Santana, obviously annoyed. Her hands were folded over her chest and she was glaring directly at me.

"You're going to prom with Tim." It was a statement, not a question.

"And?" Santana asked impatiently. It was lunch, so she couldn't even escape me under the pretense of needing to get to class.

"It's Tim! You have no interest in Tim. I'm pretty sure you actually hate his guts."

"You don't get a say in who I date, Q." She had me there. It's not like she got a say in me dating Paul.

"He's telling all of the guys that he's planning on taking your virginity at the after party," I said, my voice hardly louder than a whisper. Santana's eyes dropped from mine and she scuffed the toe of her tennis shoe against the tiled floor.

"Again, Q, what does it matter to you?" It came out so quietly, but seemed to ring out in the entire room. I couldn't believe that she was actually considering sleeping with Tim.

"You're my best friend, Santana! Obviously I'm going to care if people are spreading rumors that you're going to have sex with someone on prom night when I know you don't even like the person!"

"Who said I didn't like Tim? Where have you been for the last month? Because if you had been making time for your so-called best friend, you'd have known that Tim and I have been hooking up for a couple of weeks." Her words felt like she was spitting fire in my face.

"You still haven't said that you actually like him," I retorted. She had completely avoided using those words.

"I don't have to explain myself to you of all people, Quinn."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Santana didn't answer and I should have seen it coming. Santana doesn't handle emotions well. I guess I expected her to slap me or something because that would've been my response. But instead I felt my back slammed against the tiled wall next to the row of sinks and her lips pushed hard against mine.

She was slightly smaller than me but stronger and she held me there, pinned. I struggled against her hands trying to pull myself away from the assault on my mouth but it was futile. My mind was in overdrive and I was trying so hard to not kiss her back even when I couldn't physically pull away.

My resolve faded as soon as her tongue darted along my bottom lip. I pushed back into her, fighting for the dominance that she was unwilling to relinquish. Her body moved even closer to me until there was no space between us, and I groaned softly at the newfound friction. She moved against me, rocking her hips lightly enough to barely tease me.

When our lungs started to burn from lack of oxygen, she pulled back slightly, panting as she looked into my eyes.

"You don't get a say in who I date, Fabray," she said pushing back off of me. It was her way of calling a truce. We can do what we want and we won't stop the other. I had no idea how to justify what had just happened, but before I could ask Santana, she snapped open the lock and strode out of the bathroom.

Well, damn.

It took me five minutes to compose myself enough to join her and Brittany for lunch. She looked smugly at me when I sat down and tossed me a tube of lip-gloss. My fingers reached up subconsciously to run against my lips. They were swollen and chapped. I gave her a look of gratitude and smeared it on my lips. I nearly groaned when I tasted it and recognized it as the vanilla flavor that Santana always tasted like. The smug smile remained as she watched me closely, knowing how badly this was affecting me.

The rest of the week flew by. Since our incident in the bathroom, Santana and I were closer to being our normal selves. She started passing me notes in class once in a while again and she would talk to me during water breaks at Cheerio practice. It wasn't the same as before, but it felt good that we weren't at one another's throats. I desperately wanted to ask her if she was going to lose her virginity to Tim the following night, but I was scared to hear the answer.

I knew Santana was a little bit of a rebel. She had a mouth like a trucker (which she blamed on her abuela that grew up in Lima Heights Adjacent), it was a well-known fact that she could hold her booze and was the life of the party. On occasion, I had even seen her smoking a joint with some of the puck-heads at a party. In all honesty, I didn't know her relationship history very well. Puck told me she had always been a major flirt and was definitely not a prude, but that her V-card was still solidly in tact despite his efforts to change that.

I walked down the staircase on the night of prom; my mom was waiting excitedly at the bottom, snapping pictures as I emerged. The gown was long and I had to hold it up so I wouldn't trip and the silver heels were already giving me blisters.

This was never how I imagined my first prom. I had always figured that I would only go because my mom and sister would push me into it and I would end up sitting in a corner drinking punch by myself until it was acceptable to return home and read alone in my room.

Instead, at six o'clock sharp, a boy in a classic black tuxedo rang my doorbell. My mom fawned over Paul and how well his classic good looks meshed with mine. He was a sport as she insisted we pose for pictures, keeping his hand respectfully on my waist the entire time. He slipped the corsage onto my wrist; it was simple with pretty white flowers held with a green bow that matched my dress and his tie.

Finally, he told my mom that we had to go or we'd miss our dinner reservation and she shooed us out the door, telling us to have a great time. I couldn't contain the smile that the night was already bringing.

Brittany and I squealed when we saw one another in the restaurant. Her dress looked even more stunning paired with high stiletto heels, an updo, and perfect makeup. She pulled me away from her after we hugged so she could take in my outfit before telling me that I looked hot. I blushed and thanked her before letting my eyes wander down the long table.

Santana was sitting halfway down the table with Tim's thick arm slung around her shoulders. Her dress was strapless and deep red. The lipstick she was wearing matched the dress perfectly, making them look even fuller. I got a bad urge to punch Tim with the way his hand was groping her every chance he got. She didn't push him off, but from her tight smile I knew she wasn't really enjoying herself. I gave her a smile and let Paul lead me to our seats at the end.

The gym was completely decorated and nearly unrecognizable when we arrived. I didn't even notice what the theme was, but the place was decked out in streamers and balloons and sparkles and twinkling lights. Paul's hand was in mine and I smiled up at him as he led me in and immediately onto the dance floor.

It was a top 40 song and everybody was singing along loudly as they moved. Couples were everywhere, but I noticed the group of girls that had obviously come together laughing as they made a circle and danced together. As soon as Brittany made it to the dance floor her presence was known, a circle quickly forming around her as she moved. Her date was letting her lead and laughed as he tried to move with her. She was graceful and looked like music flowed through her veins. Thankfully her date, Bryan, had a little rhythm and was easygoing as she spun him around as they danced.

It didn't take long until she took Santana's hand and dragged her in to dance. Everybody was used to them doing this by this time in the year, but Santana still marched up to her in her insanely high heels with confidence and laughed as Brittany began to move her against her. The boys were loving it and her friends were laughing as they danced together, obviously enjoying one another's company.

Tim didn't seem completely amused and as soon as the song he ended, he pulled Santana back towards him to dance. I could see from across the room that he definitely had two left feet and Santana didn't seem to be enjoying herself.

I was so busy fixating on Santana that I was completely surprised when Brittany tugged my arm and pulled me in to dance with her. The song was fast paced and her eyes widened when I kept up with her as she moved. I had picked up dance and gymnastics when I was trying to lose the weight in middle school. I wasn't as fluent as Brittany, but I could move and this was the first time we had ever danced together sober.

Paul stood happily on the edge of the circle, his eyes meeting mine every once in a while as Brittany and I spun and moved to the music.

"You're sexy when you dance," said Brittany into my ear when she pulled me particularly close. The blush tore its way up my neck and face, making them burn uncomfortably. I was glad when the song ended a moment later, transitioning into a slow song.

I felt a larger hand on the small of back and recognized it as my boyfriend's. I smiled at his familiar touch.

"May I have this dance?" he asked sweetly and I nodded, letting his hands rest on my hips and pulling me towards him. My hands snaked around his neck and I absentmindedly stroked the back of it, making his skin break out in small goose bumps.

I willed myself to look up at Paul or rest my head against his chest with my eyes closed. The last thing I wanted to catch a glimpse of was Tim groping Santana again. She deserved so much better than him. I just wanted her to realize that.

My feet were aching by the time the last song finished. Thankfully, I had packed a bag of stuff to change into for the after party and I felt so much better when I emerged from the bathroom at the house in a simple baby doll dress and flats. Paul had shed his tie and jacket, but was still wearing tuxedo pants and his white dress shirt was unbuttoned at the neck and rolled up at the sleeves. He kissed me and took my bag and dress before disappearing through the throng to put it in his truck.

The house belonged to one of Paul's teammates and I had been here before with Santana and Brittany. I didn't remember it well, but I was able to navigate back to the kitchen. Tim was passing out shots and I saw Santana knock hers back before having him refill it immediately to take with the group. I looked at, silently pleading her to not lose control tonight but she just rolled her eyes at me and lifted her glass for the toast. I did the same, wincing as the warm liquid burned a hole in my esophagus on the way down.

Paul returned and his arms wrapped around my waist from behind. I sunk into his embrace, trying to enjoy it and realizing it felt clumsy because he was larger than me. We both accepted drinks from Tim and I gulped at mine, hoping to wash away my conscience so that I could enjoy the night with Paul and not worry about Santana the entire time.

A few drinks into the night, I could finally feel my buzz hitting me strong. I was on a couch, squished between Paul and some girl I didn't know. He started kissing my neck and it felt unusual, but not entirely unpleasant. I let my gaze wander around the room as his tongue swiped a little sloppily along the shell of my ear and back down my neck. Brittany was straddling her date's lap, making out with him enthusiastically. Santana and Tim were nowhere to be seen and it made me nervous, but I knew I couldn't leave Paul to go find them.

"There's a room upstairs waiting for us. Wanna go up?" Paul mumbled into my ear, taking the lobe between his teeth.

I pulled back violently, feeling the sting of where his teeth had just pulled against my ear from the motion. Paul was supposed to be one of the good guys and here he was being like every other stupid guy in the room. I pulled away from him without a word and immediately tore Brittany off of her date's lap.

"I want to leave. Now." I said to her and she looked confused, but nodded her head and set off; I knew it was in order to find Santana.

I stormed out the front door and I could feel Paul following me. When I reached his car I opened the door and grabbed my bag, not bothering with the dress. Brittany appeared with Santana in tow on the front porch, her ear glued to her cell phone.

"Quinn, can we talk please?" asked Paul, his hands shoved deep into his pockets and standing only a few steps away from me. I couldn't even look at him without wanting to burst into tears.

"Linden, I don't know what the fuck you did to screw up, but get the hell away from my girl before I ripped your balls off." Santana was defending me and I was instantly grateful that she found all of the words that were escaping me right now.

Her and Brittany walked over and hugged me, glaring at Paul until he threw his hands up and walked back into the house.

"My brother is coming to get us," said Brittany, her fingers stroking my hair soothingly.

A few minutes later, she pulled me down the driveway and into her brother's car. The ride was silent from us in the backseat. Brittany's brother was drumming his fingers on the steering wheel with the rock song on the radio. He pulled into the Pierce driveway and we all got out. In Brittany's room, I changed into my pajamas and crawled under the covers wanting the night to end.

I tried to slide over to the right side of the bed like usual, but Brittany stopped me, taking it for herself and leaving me in the middle. Brittany cuddled up against my side, nuzzling my shoulder affectionately as she got comfortable. Santana was a little more tentative when she finally climbed in beside me, but her arm rested on my stomach like she always did to Britt and I basked in the warmth of being held by my two best friends.

Sleep came fast from the liquor and my exhausted body. The sun was peeking through the window and the right side of the bed was cold when I stirred. Brittany had obviously gotten up already, but Santana was still pressed against my other side, her head resting in the crook of my shoulder and my arm was tucked around her.

I stayed still, not wanting to disturb the sleeping girl. She looked so peaceful. Her arm was holding my waist protectively and I smiled at the sight. There was no doubt that things with Santana were rocky. In all honesty, they probably always would be. Santana pushed limits and didn't really take no for an answer. But seeing her stand up for me last night when I needed her and having the comfort of her wrapped up in my right now made me realize that we would always find a way to be there for one another, no matter what.

Brittany bounded back into the room, already showered and dressed for the day.

"Rise and shine, San! Mom made your favorite pancakes!" The brunette groans loudly and nuzzled her head further into my shoulder, not wanting to give up sleep so soon.

Brittany skipped across the room and climbed on top of both of us, giggling. Her mouth found the exposed side of Santana's face and she started kissing all over it, making Santana squirm. I had a surge of jealousy at their comfortable banter. Brittany was showing her affection without any qualms and Santana was now laughing below her and leaned in to kiss Brittany on the lips to convince the blonde to get up.

Santana caught my eye and gave me a shy smile as she climbed out of the bed. Her hips swayed as she walked towards the door to head to the bathroom, her toned legs exposed in her tiny shorts. I felt my cheeks get red from watching her and forced myself to look away.

I yanked my sweatshirt over my head and pulled my toothbrush and contacts out of my bag. Santana waltzed back into the room, her hair pulled back neatly, but still wearing her little shorts and the tight tank top she had slept in. Brittany took her hand and they headed down for breakfast while I went into the bathroom to pull myself together.

Brittany's parents, brother, and sister were all sitting at the table with my friends when I joined them in the dining room. I loved the buzz of the Pierce house. Meals weren't very formal and there were often a ton of people around between her siblings' friends and us. It was friendly and Mrs. Pierce always treated us like we were her own kids.

I slipped into a seat between Santana and Brittany's brother Josh. He looked hungover and was pushing his eggs around his plate mindlessly. Brittany and her younger sister, Paige, were talking animatedly to her father. Mrs. Pierce insisted on filling my plate with eggs, bacon, and pancakes before I could protest. I thanked her and started in on my food. Santana's plate was completely stacked with Mrs. Pierce's banana pancakes. She had covered them with chocolate syrup and was shoveling forkfuls into her mouth happily.

Once breakfast wound down, I called my mom to pick me up. Brittany looked a little disappointed, but I knew that I needed some alone time right now. She showed up half an hour later and I climbed into the SUV, avoiding her eyes. Immediately she began asking me about prom and I gave her an abridged version, not even mentioning the after party. She seemed pleased enough by my answers and I told her I was exhausted so that I could head immediately into my room for an undisturbed nap.

I showered and got into sweatpants before I bothered looking at my cell phone. Paul had called six times and sent me a dozen text messages. I rolled my eyes and didn't bother opening them before tossing my phone on my nightstand and grabbing a book off of the shelf in the corner.

I woke up to a gentle knocking on my door. Santana's face appeared in front of my groggy eyes and she nudged me over before climbing onto the bed next to me.

"Want to talk about what happened with Paul?" she asked in lieu of a greeting.

"Do you actually care?" I said in annoyance. She had already expressed her hatred for my relationship.

"I want you to be happy, Q," was her mumbled answer. I sighed deeply and rolled onto my back.

"He basically tried to get me to go upstairs with him at the party," I said quietly, feeling my face go red with shame.

"Have you guys talked about that at all?" It was weird having Santana acting so concerned.

"We haven't done anything but kiss, I didn't think it was a conversation we needed to have yet." I felt stupid, naïve even. Santana's hand reached over and rested on top of mine.

"Guys are absolute pigs, Q," said Santana, her fingers rubbing gently against my hand. "But if you want to continue to try to train the dog, you should probably talk to Paul."

"Should I want to fix this?" I ask timidly. I couldn't think of anything worse than having his lips on me again.

"Only you can decide that. But Britt is waiting for me at my house; I just wanted to check that you're alright."

"Thanks, San." She squeezed my hand once before hopping off of the bed and heading out of my room. I wanted her to stay, but I couldn't choke out the words.

Paul hunted me down right before lunch on Monday despite my best efforts to avoid him. I dragged him into an empty classroom when he tried to talk to me in the hallway, alerting the eyes of many of our classmates.

I didn't give him a real chance to explain himself. Before he could say my name, I told him it was over and was storming out of the room.

The smile on Santana's face when I told her and Britt at lunch was completely genuine. I knew she was glad that we were finally over and it left a lump in my throat.

News of our breakup traveled fast. Boys in all grades seemed to be working on their confidence to ask me out. It was becoming tiresome, so when this awkward junior girl asked me if I wanted to join the Celibacy club I agreed without really thinking.

The first meeting was incredibly awkward. The whole room consisted of myself and two other girls. One was the girl that had asked me to join and the other seemed to be her best friend. After twenty minutes of talking about all the ways we should refrain from acting upon our urges, I made up a lame excuse and bolted.

But the boys kept trying their luck and I continued to turn every one of them down, much to Santana's delight. She was like a giddy child every time she was around for one of the boys sidling up to me in the hallway to try their luck. I told her about the disastrous Celibacy meeting and she laughed at me for what seemed like an hour before saying that it's the perfect way to repel them and agreed to come to the next meeting.

Ann, the Celibacy club president, was delighted at the turn out for the meeting the following week. Santana had basically threatened the majority of the Cheerios to show up so they were all brooding at desks at the back of the room. We spent the next hour talking about all the ways that we can tease boys without giving it up, much to the disgust of our faithful president. By the end of the meeting, Santana actually got her to quit, leaving the club in our control. That girl sure knew how to get what she wanted.

The attention died down now that I was labeled as the chastity princess. Santana and I walked to classes together now that Paul wasn't around to fulfill those duties and we linked arms and laughed as people moved out of our way. Order seemed to be back in place.

Summer came quickly and I was thankful to wear a bikini for the first time around people. Santana's in-ground pool became the main hangout for the Unholy Trinity. We spent almost every afternoon lying on sun loungers on the deck in our bathing suits, working on the perfect tan.

Santana's tan skin got darker as the summer wore on and her bathing suits seemed to get even smaller. It was a Thursday and Brittany had left the day before for a family event in Columbus, so it was just the two of us by the pool today.

My breath hitched a little when she picked up the bottle of tanning lotion and began to rub it onto her arms. She glistened from the lotion and I licked my lips unconsciously. When she held the bottle out to me and turned so her back faced me, I audibly gulped and hesitated.

"I don't have all day, Q," she said sarcastically and pushed the bottle into my hands.

"San…" I gulped, not wanting to touch that perfect skin.

"B isn't here to do it, so stop drooling and oil me up." She knew exactly the effect she was having on me and I hated her for it. I squeezed the lotion onto my palm and rubbed it between my hands before shakily placing them on her very bare back. I worked the lotion into the skin, biting back the moan that tried to escape as I slipped my fingers under the string of her bikini top.

As soon as it was rubbed in, I dropped my hands from her back and scurried back to my own lounge chair. I opened up my book and pulled my sunglasses over my eyes, trying to avoid staring at Santana's taut body.

"You're getting burnt, Q," she said mildly, picking up a stronger lotion than the one I had put on her an hour earlier.

It was the first time we had spoken since I had moved to my chair, the awkwardness thick between us. She didn't wait for me to respond before she straddled my thighs. I was lying on my stomach and couldn't see her and the first touch of her fingers on my skin made me gasp. She worked slowly, kneading the muscles of my shoulders as she worked the lotion into my warm skin. I thought I was going to pass out when she leaned down, her hair brushing against my exposed skin and her mouth right next to my ear.

"You look so damn sexy in a bikini, Quinn," she husked into my ear, causing a shiver to go down my spine. I tried to swallow the growing lump that was caught in my throat. "How is it possible for someone to be so incredibly beautiful?"

"San, we shouldn't be doing this," I whispered, though I made no effort to throw her off.

"We shouldn't, but we can. Where is the rebel in you, Quinn Fabray?" Her voice was light, teasing me easily but her breath was hot against my earlobe.

Her lips brushed against my ear, pausing for a second. Her warm body pressed down into my back as she got comfortable on top of me. I wasn't as surprised when her mouth was on my neck, nipping and licking gently as I was pinned to the lounge chair.

"San, we can't." I knew as it left my mouth that it didn't sound at all convincing. "Anybody could walk in."

"Quinn, we're in my private backyard, my parents are at work, and my brother is at a friend's house" she said, nipping at my earlobe before kissing my neck again. "But I'll gladly take you to my room if you want." I let out a little moan, knowing the internal battle was lost.

I let her take my hand and help me up. I allowed her walk me through the kitchen and up the stairs. I even let her climb on top of me as soon as I was on the bed. I definitely didn't stop her when she kissed me deeply.

Santana kissed me for what seemed like hours, her hands tickling my bare flesh that was still left exposed by my rather skimpy bikini. I left mine planted firmly on her waist. It would be lying to say I wasn't turned on, but I did my best to ignore the heat that was pooling between my legs.

I only came to my senses when Santana's hand rubbed over the triangle of my bikini top, causing my nipple to immediately harden. I pushed her off of me roughly, causing her to roll onto the bed with a dazed expression, her lips swollen from the extended make-out session.

"Santana, I can't do this. I can't give you what you want." The simplest touch had sobered me up; it had made all of this real.

"When the fuck are you going to stop denying yourself some fucking pleasure, Quinn?" Her voice was angry and frustrated. I didn't have an answer for her, so I bolted out of the room.