Hello, my lovelies! I've been chomping at the bit to post this next chapter, but I wanted to give it a few days, so that you all would have a little time to miss me.
And, as the winner of the review challenge posted in the last chapter, YourFavoriteReviewer won a customized fiction written by me! It should be posted by Wednesday, so stay tuned!
Now, at last, Chapter 3!
We're among the last of the patrons to leave the bar when it closes at one in the morning. I hold the badly scratched wooden door to Rosalita's open for Rachel, who smiles sweetly and brushes her fingertips over the skin of my wrist as a silent 'thank you'. I let the door swing shut before saying goodnight to Joe and Puck.
"Don't do anything I wouldn't do," Puck says with a leer and a pelvic thrust, earning him a slap on the back of the head and me a reassuring smile from Joe.
I shake my head and turn to see Rachel making her way across the gravel of the parking lot toward a silver 2007 Honda Ridgeline. She pulls out her keys and unlocks it, allowing me to sit on the back bumper while she retrieves something from the cab. I chuckle lightly as I spy the license plate border: 'This is not my boyfriend's truck.'
"You alright to drive?" I call to her as I fiddle with a hole in the upper thigh of my jeans.
A melodious laugh hits my eardrum in response. "I don't drink. Sue says 'champions don't put that garbage in their system'. Although, I'm relatively certain she was drunk when she told me."
She shuts the driver's side door and moves to sit next to me on the chrome fender. I look down to see what she was searching for: a white iPhone in a rebel flag hard case. I smile and look up at her.
"Just checking. I would've offered you a ride."
"That's very sweet," she says as she bumps her shoulder against mine playfully. "But you're my competition, so if the roles were reversed, I'd probably make you walk."
She winks at me cutely in the moonlight, and I feign indignation.
"Watch it, Berry. Keep being rude and I won't give you my number," I shoot back, gesturing to the cell phone in her lap.
Rachel throws her head back, closes her eyes, and lets a full-body laugh permeate her small frame. I can't help but be entranced by the way she looks in this moment; so free, so happy, and as always, so incredibly stunning. I'm so hypnotized by her that I don't realize that she's spoken to me again. She's smirking at me now, and I can feel myself blushing furiously at being caught staring.
"Oh, I'll get your number, Fabray," Rachel smiles mischievously before leaning closer to whisper hotly in my ear. "Because you haven't been able to keep your beautiful eyes off of me."
Guilty.
I can feel the tips of my ears growing warm after she pulls away. There's no use in denying it; I'd been captivated by Rachel in the bar, and I'd been not-so-subtly ogling her all night.
"Y-You're a very pretty girl, Rachel," I stammer nervously into the pleasant night air. "The prettiest I've ever seen."
I'd said it so softly that I wasn't sure she'd heard me. My eyes focus intently on my lap, where I'm tangling and untangling my fingers anxiously. Suddenly, I feel a moist warmth on my cheek as Rachel's velvety lips connect with it. My heart flutters gaily at the sensation, and a grateful smile tugs at my own lips as hers withdraw.
Wow. A kiss on the cheek and I'm already swooning…
"Alright, give me the phone, Berry," I sigh in an attempt to sound exasperated, though the both of us know there's nowhere I'd rather be than right here with her.
She giggles mellifluously before handing it to me. "I thought you'd see things my way, Quinn."
God, my name has never sounded so beautiful. This girl could read the dictionary and make it sound like Ligeti's Le Grand Macabre.
I stick my tongue out at her and unlock the screen to tap in my number. My breath catches in my throat, however, when I notice the picture that's set as her wallpaper. It's of Rachel, standing on the deck of an expensive looking yacht. The sun is bright against her skin, and she's in a fire engine red bikini that leaves little to the imagination. Beneath the same off-white cowboy hat that sits atop her head now, her long, silky chestnut locks hang in damp tendrils that cascade over her shoulders. She's giving her trademark smirk to the camera, and one of her manicured hands is curved around her hip.
"I was changing it while you were so kindly asking me if I needed a designated driver," Rachel says in a low voice, spotting the clear effect the photograph is having on me. "I thought you'd like that one better than the picture of my cats, Claude and Sheila."
I snort, both in confirmation of her assumption and the references to the musical Hair made by the names of her pets. I shake my head and dial my phone number with trembling digits.
This girl is going to be the death of me.
I hand the device back to Rachel, letting my fingertips linger on the skin of her palm, which I'm pleasantly surprised to find is slightly calloused.
So she really is a rider, and not just a supermodel playing a joke.
"Q-Ball!" Shannon roars drunkenly from the other end of the parking lot.
I look to see her propped up against her car and it's only then that I detect that the lot is completely vacant with the exception of the three of us. I stand up slowly without disconnecting my fingers from Rachel's. She smiles at the intimacy of the gesture and the tenderness in my hazel eyes as I gaze down at her.
"Will I hear from you soon?" I ask hopefully before gently pulling Rachel to her feet.
"Wait by the phone, Fabray," she grins contentedly.
I bring the back of her hand to my lips and kiss it gently, never breaking the connection of our eyes.
"Move your ass, Cowboy Casanova! I need to get home and start nursing this bitch of a hangover!"
Rachel laughs at Shannon's inebriated antics and slides her hand from mine to press it firmly against the worn cotton fabric that covers my collarbone.
"Go on, Romeo," she whispers, her focus now on an expanse of my neck she's tracing lightly with her fingernail. Her teeth tug her bottom lip between them and her sculpted eyebrows draw together cutely. I can tell she's having just as hard a time pulling away from me as I am from her. "Mercutio's getting restless."
"Good night, good night. Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night 'til it be morrow," I sigh before tucking a stray lock of her soft hair behind her ear. Her eyebrow quirks up in surprise when I quote the famous play, and I simply smile and tip my hat to her. "I'm not just some rock-head hillbilly, Berry. I do read."
I throw her a wink and turn to make my way over to Shannon. I hear Rachel let out a breathy laugh before getting into her truck.
Uh oh… Here come the love sweats.
AN: Alright, here's another review challenge.
The first reviewer to correctly identify the source of the last line of this chapter (Quinn's thought) will win the ability to preview Chapter 4 before I post it! So get cracking! : )
