Hey, y'all! :) Okay, first off, thanks so much for all the feedback I'm getting - it's great as a writer (even if it's just fanfiction) to know what other people think of the words you write, so it's always appreciated no matter what. :)
Anyway, this is chapter 7! I know how I want this plot to play out (which is something I can't really say for a lot of my past fics), so I'm excited to get there - definitely won't be abandoning it, I promise. It's just the wait in between chapters is long, but I have fun writing them! Anyway. Last chapter you saw Sam start to fall a little bit for Quinn and you'll see it more here with his family being in town. :)
Enjoy, read, and please review! Xoxo.
Obviously, I don't own Glee or its characters. If I did, Quinn would've been around for the Men of McKinley High Calendar. :P
Chapter 7: Just One Kiss
"Your mom eats brie, right?"
"Quinn, will you relax?"
"No," she replied absentmindedly, arranging the crackers on the plate for the hundredth time. "How are you not nervous?" Throwing her hands up in frustration, she turned to face Sam, who was in the middle of taking a sip of his beer.
"Because it's my mom and my little sister," he shrugged, pushing himself off the kitchen counter to stand next to her. "You're freaking out,"
She glared up at him, her arms crossed. "Of course I'm freaking out! I don't know how you aren't!" Quinn cried. "Can't we just tell them? If we come clean about this whole arrangement, it'll be so much easier,"
"As much as I'm flattered that you don't want to be my fake girlfriend anymore…" he started, rolling his eyes. "Believe me; it's easier to pretend, okay? They don't totally understand the whole Hollywood side of the job,"
"I get that, I do," Quinn sighed. "But with everything coming at us in the next few weeks and that stupid big decision we have to make…it just seems a little sucky that we still have to lie to your family,"
"You mean whether or not we're going to keep up our arrangement or break it off?" Sam's eyebrows knitted together in thought.
"It's not going to be easy, you know. We have to think of how each option is going to affect our careers,"
"Right," Sam nodded, wincing slightly at Quinn's insistence that everything had to come to an end at some point. If he was being completely honest with himself, a part of him wanted to keep dating Quinn – whether it was for the public or for him, he hadn't quite decided that part yet. "Look, let's just get through these next four days without killing anybody and then we'll figure out the rest, okay?"
Quinn sighed, obviously defeated. She looked up at Sam and without meaning to, found herself lost in his bright green eyes. The corner of his lips turned upwards in a slow, sexy smile and Quinn felt her heart pound against her ribcage. It was strange, how just a month ago, she would've hated to be so close to Sam. "Okay," Quinn sighed, nodding her head.
"Okay," he pulled her in for a hug and she breathed him in, feeling her spirits fall slightly when he let her go. Suddenly, before either of them could say anything else, the doorbell rang and Sam cursed under his breath. "Well, that's them," he shrugged. Taking hold of her hand, he gripped it tightly and guided them towards the front door.
Quinn had seen pictures of Mary Evans before – it was hard not to, especially when Sam's LA house was so family-oriented. There were framed photographs of his parents, his brothers and sisters, and Tennessee scattered everywhere and he was never one to shy away from telling her stories about life back in Nashville. Quinn knew that Mary Evans had once been Mary Henderson, a Southern belle born and raised in Tennessee. She had met Sam's father, Dwight, at a party thrown by his college football team and by the time the night was over, they were in love. It made Quinn's heart melt every time she thought about it – a part of her felt like it was exactly the way movies were made.
But seeing Mary Evans up close and personal, face to face, was something else completely. She was blonde and beautiful, classy and elegant (evidenced by the string of pearls around her neck), and just the right combination of steely determination, sass, and motherly comfort. Standing in the doorway, a satchel slung over her shoulder and dressed in a bright sundress, Mary Evans was the true epitome of a Southern belle. And next to her, Quinn noticed, was a bouncing preteen, who was her exact mirror image. Sam invited them all in and within seconds, Mrs. Evans stood in the foyer, examining her beloved son.
"Sam," her voice sounded like bells, as she held out her arms to him for a hug. "I can't believe how tall you've gotten! And what's this scratchy thing on your face?" Mrs. Evans stepped back, holding her son's shoulders, the look on her shocked face causing Quinn to force back her laughter.
"Sorry, mom. Forgot to shave," he shrugged, his lips curling into a lopsided smile. "Stace, you're not going to give your big brother a hug?" Sam grinned, holding his arms out to the girl who stood beside his mother. She was all gangly limbs and awkward posture, with long, straight blonde hair and bright green eyes. She didn't have Sam's signature mouth, but the way she pursed her lips and wrinkled her nose reminded Quinn exactly of Sam.
"Hey, rockstar," Stacy teased, wrapping her arms around her brother and snuggling into his side. He dropped a kiss on her head and Quinn smiled, her heart beating twice as fast – there was something to be said watching a man like Sam Evans be sweet to his family. "Is that…?" Stacy whispered softly, under her breath. Sam chuckled and nodded, ruffling her hair slightly.
"Mom, Stace, this is Quinn Fabray," he announced.
Quinn waved awkwardly, clearing her throat before she spoke. "It's so nice to finally meet both of you – Sam's told me so much about his family," she said in a steady, even voice – despite the fact that she was shaking from her nerves. She made a move to shake Mrs. Evans' hand, but before she could even step forward, Mrs. Evans wrapped her arms around her shoulders and pulled her in for a bone-crushing hug.
"We're so happy to meet you! We honestly never thought Sam would ever settle down! Imagine my surprise when I heard he found a girl who he loves so much! Thank the Lord!"
Quinn patted Mrs. Evans' back awkwardly, thinking the exact same thing she knew Sam was thinking – if his raised eyebrows and perplexed expression was any sort of indication. It was that if they hadn't been trapped in the most tangled web of lies, the whole thing would've been downright hilarious.
"So, how's it going so far?" Santana's voice came through on the speakerphone clearly; the mischievous smirk evident in her tone. Quinn and Sam rolled their eyes in unison, huddled over the phone.
"Don't laugh, Lopez. I'm lying to my family, okay? Not cool," Sam whispered anxiously. "My mother is out there right now, practically planning our wedding!" he hissed.
There was a beat of silence, before Santana drew a breath and said, "Actually, that's not a bad idea. The public loves you so much that getting married is probably the next logical step…"
"Santana!" Quinn cried in a low voice, hoping the Evanses couldn't hear their conversation through the giant oak door that separated them. "Who cares if the public loves us, because we don't even love each other!"
"Ouch, Quinn, way to kick a guy when he's already down," Sam pouted.
"Shut up," she rolled her eyes, punching him softly in the arm.
"I don't see what the big deal is," Santana commented, obviously bored. "So your mom thinks you're perfect for each other. Isn't that a good thing?"
Sam groaned, tugging at his blonde hair forcefully in frustration. "We thought she'd be pissed, okay? We were banking on her getting angry that I didn't tell her and all of a sudden, she's set on like, bringing Quinn back to Nashville and it's just –"
"So go with her to Nashville," Santana interrupted.
"Santana," Quinn's voice came out strangled.
"Listen, you're both making way too big of a deal out of this," the Latina snapped, her tone indicating she was already impatient and over the conversation. "Just don't let your mom start planning a wedding or even start talking about a wedding without my consent – other than that, you're safe. So quit whining,"
Quinn took a deep breath and glanced over at Sam, who seemed to be processing his publicist's words in his head. They shared a look, one that had become commonplace between them. Quinn knew he hated lying to his parents, regardless of the fact that it was his idea to keep their arrangement a secret. Neither of them had expected Mary Evans to be completely on board with Quinn as a girlfriend – after all, Sam was her first son and his constant string of one night stands did little to dispute the fact that he was a notorious player.
"Okay, we'll…deal with it," Sam sighed dejectedly.
"Great!" Santana quipped. "I've got to run, give my best to Mama Evans and Stace – I'll see them tomorrow night at dinner,"
"Bye, San," Quinn reached forward to end the call, but Santana's sudden shrieks stopped her. "What the hell?"
"Sorry, I just remembered, since I have you both here and all. Quinn, you have an appearance at the Nexus Awards this Sunday night and Sam, you have the giving ceremony at the Grove during the day. Separate appearances," she rattled off.
"Alright,"
There was a brief moment of silence, before they heard Santana draw in her breath and say, "And don't forget about our meeting scheduled for the end of next week. About your…decision. Whether or not we continue with this or let it go,"
"Got it. Bye," Sam snapped, pressing the off button on the phone with a little more force than necessary. He turned to glance at Quinn, who was chewing on her lower lip, her brows furrowed in worry. "You okay?" he asked, his voice coming out shakier than he expected.
"I'm fine," she squeaked.
"Let's just…we'll talk about it next week, okay?" Sam squeezed her shoulder affectionately. "But for now, we've got to survive Hurricane Evans," he chuckled, earning another eye-roll from Quinn. Looking up at him, she grinned widely, before grabbing his hand and guiding them out of the study.
Sam casually slung his arm around her shoulders as they strolled into the spacious kitchen, where Mrs. Evans was busy putting something into the oven. Sitting comfortably on the counter, Stacy was dipping Doritos into some sort of dip and whistling softly to the country song blaring on the radio. Quinn hesitated, feeling her nerves start to bubble at the bottom of her stomach. She met Mrs. Evans' eyes and smiled – there was something comforting and calming about Sam's mother that she couldn't quite put a finger on. 'Maybe it's because she's nothing like your own mom,' Quinn thought, smirking to herself.
"You've literally been here less than two hours and you're already cooking?" Sam teased, perching himself on one of the stools surrounding the kitchen island. To Quinn's surprise, he pulled her closer to him, settling her down on his knee. He wrapped an arm around her waist and instinctively, she rested a hand on his shoulder.
"I looked in your fridge and you didn't have any lasagna," Mrs. Evans shrugged, taking a sip of water from her glass. "Although there's a lot more food in there than last time – good to see you're finally taking care of yourself,"
Sam snorted, resting his chin on Quinn's shoulder. "That's not me, it's her," he said.
"I just…" Quinn wriggled slightly, trying to loosen Sam's grip around her waist. "I find it ridiculous that a grown man was trying to live off of beer and cool Ranch Doritos," she retorted, giving Sam a glare.
"It's a balanced diet if you work out!" he protested.
"You're an idiot," Quinn laughed, running her fingers through his disheveled hair affectionately. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sam's mom smile approvingly and Stacy lift a corner of her mouth in a tilted grin. Quinn felt a surge of happiness – she was in the Evans' good graces – until she remembered that it was all an act.
The thought stung a little; after all, Quinn never had the perfect family growing up. Her parents lived well and when she turned 13, they decided she was well off without them, too. She had grown up in a pretty house in the nicer parts of Lima, but she was always left alone – Judy and Russell Fabray were too busy keeping up appearances at the local country club to actually parent her. Quinn would spend days on end fantasizing about being a part of a real family, one that sat down to dinner and talked about their days and actually cared about each other. Seeing the loving warmth in Mrs. Evans' eyes had reminded Quinn of that – of how much she longed to be a part of a family. And for the briefest of seconds, she had let herself wonder what it'd be like to be part of the Evans family.
"So, are we doing anything interesting today or do y'all just hide out from the paparazzi in your huge mansion?" Stacy quipped, hopping off the counter and sending a spray of chip crumbs all over the floor. "Not that I mind either way – your house is way cool," she added, glancing over at her older brother, who scoffed in response.
"Are you tired from the flight? Is there anything in particular you want to do?" Quinn asked, untangling herself from Sam's arms and settling into her own seat.
"Disneyland," Stacy grinned. "Any chance y'all can use your star power to get us some all-access passes?" she teased, her Southern twang much stronger than her brother's.
"Stacy!" Mrs. Evans cried, hitting her lightly with the dish rag she was holding. Her daughter just shrugged in response, her green eyes sparkling.
Quinn giggled, leaning forward on the kitchen counter, as if she was letting Stacy in on a secret. In a whisper, she said, "I could totally hook that up for you,"
"Awesome!" Stacy pumped her fist in the air excitedly. "God, I love you already!" she cried, rounding the counter to throw her arms around Quinn.
Sam shook his head, suppressing his laughter – Quinn and Stacy could've been sisters in a past life. He knew Quinn had had some anxiety over whether or not his family would like her and Sam didn't want to admit it, but he had been worried, too. It had always been important that whoever he ended up with would fit in with his tight-knit family, but he hadn't expected his family to accept Quinn as easily. She was Hollywood personified and on all accounts, everything his mother hated about show business. But as Sam reached over the counter to grab an apple, he locked eyes with his mom and a look passed between them that conveyed everything he needed to know – not only did she approve and love Quinn Fabray…but if Sam did anything to screw it up, he would have to answer to his mother's wrath.
On Friday night, Sam led his mom and sister up the stairs and into Lola's, a well-established, family-run restaurant nestled in a slightly more secluded area of the hills. As he meandered through the crowded tables, he was pleased to notice that nobody recognized who he was – it was family night and he didn't feel like tending to fans. A jazz track played softly through the restaurant's speakers and as Sam guided his family towards the private room at the back, just as Quinn instructed him to, he could make out several familiar voices – growing louder and louder with each step he took. It was a stark contrast to the fairly quiet restaurant and before he could make a move to pull open the door, it flung back to reveal a flustered Quinn Fabray.
"Hey! You guys made it!" she said breathlessly, tucking back a strand of hair that had fallen out of place. She hugged Mrs. Evans and Stacy, who both had bewildered looks on their faces, and kissed Sam on the cheek, before pulling them all inside and closing the door – letting Sam see exactly why there had been so much noise coming from their private room.
When he had woken up earlier that day, he realized he had completely forgotten about making dinner plans. Quinn had graciously offered her assistance and he had told her to make it small – just the Evans family and Quinn, of course. What Sam didn't know was that she had somehow managed to wrangle all their friends into one room – something completely unheard of in their circles, considering everybody's schedules were all packed with meetings, photo shoots, classes, and who knew what else. But as he looked around the spacious room, taken up by a large dining table and several smaller tables laden with food, he saw nearly everybody who mattered to both him and Quinn.
Puck and Artie were pouring drinks for Artie, Kurt, and Blaine. At one end of the dining table, Mike and Tina were huddled close, their heads bent over an iPad. Santana mindlessly stirred her drink, as she listened to Brittany and Mercedes (Sam's backup dancers and singers) trade stories about touring. The biggest surprise of all was seeing Finn with his arm around a small brunette, who was wriggling in her seat from excitement.
"Sam!" she cried, jumping up and launching herself at him. He staggered slightly and a laugh escaped his lips as he hugged her back.
"Hey, Rach!" he chuckled, letting her go. "Sorry, mom, Stace – this is Rachel Berry, Broadway star. And Finn's girlfriend," he smirked, pulling out chairs for his family and for Quinn. There was a slight bustle as everybody scrambled to get in their seats and within seconds, the noise level in the room changed to a soft buzz, as conversations overlapped with one another. "I thought you'd only be back next week?" Sam asked Rachel, who was in front of him, poking a fork at her salad.
"I was, but when Quinn called Finn to invite him for dinner, they sort of came up with the idea to drag me back here," she giggled.
"It was all Quinn's idea. I just mentioned that it sucked that Rachel couldn't be here and the next thing I know, Quinn's on the phone with Rachel's assistant and she's on the next jet out of New York," Finn smiled widely, pressing a kiss to his girlfriend's forehead. They had all been close to each other when they were first starting out in the business and when Sam took Finn on his first tour; Rachel had tagged along for the first few months. It was the second time Sam had let someone in.
"Well, that's just the sweetest story I've ever heard," Mrs. Evans chimed in, the sound of her voice halting all the other conversations in the room. "And you two have been dating for quite some time, haven't you?"
"Since high school," Rachel quipped proudly. "It hasn't been easy, but what relationship is?" Across the table, Santana let out a scoff, hiding her mouth behind her glass. Sam just shook his head and smirked, knowing full well that Rachel always managed to get on Santana's nerves.
"Of course. Sam's father and I started dating in college and even though we both had stable jobs afterwards, it was still difficult. Especially when this one came around," Mrs. Evans patted Sam's head for emphasis, which earned a soft chuckle from his little sister. "But we always knew he was talented, of course. He started singing George Strait before he started talking, I think," she smiled fondly at her son and Sam blushed. His mother kept the conversation going and even though he was trying to concentrate, it was hard to focus on anything when Quinn was sitting right next to him.
He had no idea that having his mom and sister meet the most important people in his life - his other family, so to speak - was something he had always wanted, but somehow, Quinn had known. He stole a quick sideways glance at her and felt his heart ache. She was beautiful, as always, her hair now pulled back in a demure half-up, half-down, the soft waves falling gently over her shoulders. He fought the urge to tuck back a loose strand and kept himself distracted by tapping out a rhythm against his knee with his hand. Suddenly, underneath the table, Sam felt familiar fingers intertwine with his.
"You okay?" she whispered, the volume of her voice low enough just for the two of them.
He cleared his throat and tried his hardest to bring the color in his cheeks down - he already knew Santana was giving them a suspicious look from across the table. "I'm fine," he replied.
"Is the food okay?"
"It's great,"
"Okay," Quinn nodded, taking a delicate sip of her wine. Sam couldn't help but notice the way her fingers curled around the stem, the way her lips looked, pressed against the glass. "I hope everyone's having a good time," she turned back to him, her voice back to her low whisper.
"It's perfect," he squeezed her fingers assuringly. Hidden from view, she squeezed his hand back and they sat, grinning at each other stupidly, before a clap of hands brought them out of their moment. They pulled apart and for a brief second, Sam missed the warmth of Quinn's fingers.
"I'd like to say a few words," Santana stood up slowly, tugging at the hem of her short dress. The whole room fell silent and Sam winced, anticipating what would come next. "To my two most favorite clients and my two most amazing friends - Sam and Quinn. For bringing us all together, for introducing us to new people, and for letting us be a part of your elite circle - a part of your family," she finished, adding the last part with a flourish, raising her glass up and tipping it back. Sam and Quinn both mouthed a 'thank you' to their publicist, knowing Santana needed more than just a sign of gratitude from them - she also needed an answer so she could plan the next step of their careers.
"Y'all really are a cute couple," Stacy commented, causing the rest of the dinner party to chuckle.
"Stace," Sam warned.
"Sam Evans, you should not be ashamed that you're dating such a pretty girl,"
"Stacy, shut up," he muttered.
"How about a kiss?" Mrs. Evans piped up and Sam stared at her, shell-shocked.
It wasn't that he didn't want to kiss Quinn - all signs pointed to them having to kiss at some point during their little arrangement. What Sam didn't count on was kissing Quinn with his mom, sister, manager, band members, and everybody else who mattered to him, watching. Did he want to kiss her? Maybe not in the beginning, when she was still uptight and all wound up. But now...well, things were different now. They started being different after the premiere they went to, after she started spending the night on his couch and he'd wake up early and just watch her breathe, while the sunlight caught her hair...
"Should we?"
Quinn's soft voice pulled him out of his daydream and he snapped back to reality, his head turning to face her. She was fidgeting nervously, her eyebrows raised as if asking him a question. Around him, the dinner table had gone quiet, evidently, nobody had bothered to give his mother a reason why they wouldn't kiss. Sam glanced at his mom briefly, who nodded with a big grin on her face, and turned back to Quinn.
"I guess so," he shrugged, chuckling softly to himself.
He leaned towards her, tilting his head a little to the left, as she scooted forward and tucked her hair behind her ears. Sam could feel his heart pounding in anticipation of what was to come and he could see that she was nervous, the way her usually calm eyes clouded over with fear. She stilled his tapping fingers - he hadn't even noticed he was doing it - and intertwined their fingers again. The touch of her skin on his made him relax and he breathed deeply, inching closer and closer towards her.
It felt like seconds turned into minutes and then into hours, as the whole room (namely Sam and Quinn's closest friends who knew about the real nature of their relationship) held their breath. They watched, as Sam pressed his lips sweetly against Quinn's, watched as he instinctively cradled her head in his hands, watched as she dug her nails softly into his shoulder. Quinn tasted like cherries and wine, and the smell of her strawberry-scented hair made Sam feel dazed, as he caught her top lip between his own and pulled her closer.
They broke apart, eventually, but not before a look they shared - a look so raw and real that Sam had no choice but to finally admit it to himself.
There was a big possibility that he was falling for Quinn Fabray.
