Hey, guys! I'm glad you all liked the first chapter! Now, I have a small challenge for my readers.

The first reviewer to correctly name the source of the last chapter's title and Quinn's countdown thoughts shall win a customized fiction from yours truly! Go forth and research! : )

But for now, here's Chapter 2!

"Welcome to Rosalita's Roadhouse, where the women ride bulls and cowboys…"

Joe throws me a wink from behind his microphone stand as he adjusts the brown leather strap of his Alvarez acoustic. The patrons of Rosalita's let out a collective guffaw at Teen Jesus's jibe, to which he responds with a tip of his black cowboy hat. I simply chuckle and raise my green O'Doul's bottle to him before bringing it to my lips for a swig.

"Nah, I'm just kiddin'. I know Quinnie likes her steer."

He sticks his tongue out and laughs throatily, earning another roar from the crowd. I give him the finger and turn back to face the bar as he announces the beginning of his set. I drain my beer and signal Puckerman for another, Shannon sidling up to take the stool next to mine. She drapes a heavy arm across my tender shoulder blades, and I can tell she's already had a few Budweisers.

"This one's on me, Puck," she bellows over the noise as she flicks a five dollar bill onto the mahogany bar. He nods and exchanges the money for my beer before heading down to the other end of the counter at the request of a particularly rowdy group.

"That was one hell of a ride out there today, Q-Ball," she says, clapping a paw against my back and almost making me spit out the amber liquid in my mouth.

"Thanks, Cannon," I smile. "I did learn from the best."

"Awh, you kiss-ass," Shannon laughs. She locks my head in a half-nelson, sets my beige cowboy hat down on the bar, and proceeds to ruffle my hair with her fist. I break away quickly, chortling and replacing my hat on my head.

"Oh, hey," she shouts to be heard over the din. "There's someone I want you to meet. She'll be some big time competition at your next rodeo."

I scoff lightly and rotate on my stool to face the stage after the last chords of Joe's set give way to the loud conversations of the drunken customers. I haven't placed lower than third in a rodeo since I started riding. I'd actually welcome a girl who could give me a run for my money.

The thought barely leaves my head before Teen Jesus hands the microphone off to the most beautiful woman I think I've ever seen. The catcalls rain down on her immediately, and I can't help wanting to join in. Her long, straight chocolate brown hair frames a set of sparkling brown eyes. Her flawless tan skin and beautiful pearly white smile almost stops my heart. She's wearing a red plaid collared shirt like mine, but I like it better on her petite body. Her ripped jean Bermuda shorts showcase a pair of deliciously silky looking legs and I'm dying to let my hands explore them. And to top it off, her cream cowboy hat matches the pair of ivory boots. She locks eyes with me, and something stirs in my lower abdomen when she sends me a knowing smirk.

And just when I think she can't get any sexier… she starts singing.

"To kiss and tell; it's just not my style.
But the night is young, and it's been awhile."

My heart threatens to beat its way out of my chest. Her mesmerizing eyes twinkle playfully into mine, and I forget that there's anyone else in the bar but the two of us. The sound in Rosalita's falls away, leaving this absolutely breathtaking woman to serenade me. Joe and the band are backing her up, and she sounds like she's recording the song in a studio booth instead of a honky-tonk bar.

"And she broke my heart, broke it right in two.
And it took some time, but I'm feeling like I'm
Finally ready to find somebody new."

She winks at me, and now I know my jaw's lying among the peanut shells on the floor. Tossing her hair over her left shoulder, she belts out the chorus so clearly and purely that it can only be described as perfection.

"I wanna kiss a girl, I wanna hold her tight.
Maybe make a little magic in the moonlight.
Don't wanna go too far, just take it slow.
But I shouldn't be lonely in this big ol' world.
I wanna kiss a girl."

The band breaks in with some guy sawing away on a fiddle behind her, but her eyes are still locked on mine. My mouth goes dry as she smiles at me, and I tip my hat to her before shooting her a small grin in return. She blushes a little, causing an eruption of butterflies in my stomach.

"Oi! Lion Quinn!"

Shannon forces me to break my gaze with the stunning brunette onstage by waving a hand in front of my face. My reverie interrupted, I turn my attention back to her.

"What?"

"The girl onstage is the one I wanted to introduce you to. Name's Rachel Berry. Standings said she's the one to beat down in Marion. Didn't know she could sing too, though… Regular Annie Oakley…"

No. That can't be right. She's too beautiful... too soft...

I'm so wrapped up in my own thoughts that I don't notice the end of the song until I look up to see the sultry singer sauntering over to me.

"Word of advice, Q-Ball," Shannon says into my ear as she spies Rachel approaching. "Try not to drool on her. Makes a bad first impression."

I shove her off as she cackles loudly. I slide off of my barstool and meet my opponent halfway through the crowd. Her hands go to her hips, and my head spins as I think about all the other places I'd like those hands to go…

"So you're Quinn Fabray," she smirks confidently, giving me the once-over before making eye contact with me again. I'm initially surprised she knows my name, but then I remember she'd probably met Shannon earlier in the evening.

"So you're Rachel Berry," I shoot back playfully; this earns me a seductive half smile from the attractive brunette.

"And you'll be my competition at Madison County in two weeks?"

"Looks that way," I grin before pushing my hands down in the pockets of my jeans. "Scared, Berry?"

She giggles flirtatiously and takes a step toward me.

"Not even." she winks again before reaching out to run her fingers teasingly over my wrist. "I'm glad my trainer Sue isn't here. She wouldn't like me fraternizing with the enemy... No matter how adorable she is."

I raise my eyebrow and smirk, feigning surprise at her admission. "So all of that was for little ol' me?"

Before I know it, she's closed the distance between us, and I can smell her subtle Ralph Lauren perfume. She speaks right into my ear, her tepid breath raising goosebumps on my skin and sending shivers down my spine.

"Well, the quickest way to a woman's heart is a song. So tell me," she simpers as her lips graze the shell of my ear. "Did it work?"

Her eyes burn into mine as she pulls away. I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding in, and she gives me a satisfied smile.

Damn... I'm so screwed.

AN: Rachel's song, Kiss A Girl, is sung by Keith Urban.

Reviews are love. And love makes the world go 'round. : )