Strangers in the Night

by BittyAB18

On her 26th birthday, Beca Mitchell is dared by one of her best friends to give a relationship a chance, but there's a catch: they can't "go all the way" for three months. Enter Jesse Swanson. While Beca is struggling with keeping the dare a secret, Jesse is struggling to keep his own secret. Will their secrets ruin them before they really even start? Rated M.

4. Chapter 4 - The Date

Strangers in the Night

A Pitch Perfect Story

Chapter 4: The Date

Disclaimer: I do not own anything familiar.

Author's Note: The summer semester is done, and I have a couple of weeks of freedom before the fall semester starts up. Yay for that! I hope you all enjoy this chapter! It's the date. Also, I made a correction to the dates in the last chapter. I accidentally typed the wrong Saturday/Tuesday in April, and I couldn't figure out why I was winding up with more than 91 days and such. Sorry about that! Nice and long for you! 17 pages! Took me forever, but I didn't want to break the date up. Enjoy!

Tuesday, April 23, 2013

Beca rolled her eyes when Jesse opened the door to his car, a tan sedan of some kind (she really didn't know anything about cars aside from barely how to drive one), to let her into the passenger side. Uggh, why? She had hands; she can open her own goddamn door, thank you very fucking much. Jesse presented the open car door to her like he was someone on a game show. She cocked an eyebrow at him before climbing into the car, mumbling all about how he was such a tool. She ignored his chuckle as he shut the door to the passenger side of the car and watched him walk around to the driver's side. He climbed into the car beside her, fumbling with his keys in one hand while he shut the door with the other. "I'm excited about this date."

"What are we doing, since the whole movie plan was vetoed?" Beca chose not to tell him her feelings about the date, because she wasn't sure what her feelings were exactly. She hated that she was forced to go on this date and be involved in this stupid dare, but there was a small part of her that was intrigued by him, which was the part of her that she hated the most.

"Well, I guess we could do my second favorite activity. Well, actually it is my third favorite, because movie watching is technically my second favorite activity, and music is my first." He was rambling, and he didn't notice the way that Beca visibly winced at hearing him say that music was important to him. She hated when people found out that she was a producer, because they always wanted her to help them get representation and to get famous. Most of the time, they had no talent, which was awkward for her to tell them that there was no way she could help them with their dreams. She really hoped that Jesse only liked listening to music, not a singer or something.

"Anyway," she said, cutting off his rambling about how music and movies went together, because they both move people and make them feel, and how music helps to tell the story in movies, by helping the viewer to know what to feel at any moment. "Where are we going?"

"First things first, Miss Beca, want to eat first or do the activity first?" She rolled her eyes at him. He was such a fucking idiot.

"I could eat." She said finally, giving him a sarcastic smirk. He grinned, nodding his head.

"Dinner it is." He turned left at the next light, and he chatted all the while about how great of a day he had-how he had been distracted at work all day, imagining what their date was going to be like. She blushed when he said that he kept telling everyone about the beautiful and amazing girl that he had met and their date that night. She looked out the window, rubbing the tip of her nose with her fingernail, something she did when she was especially uncomfortable and embarrassed. "So, what about you, Beca? Were you excited about our date tonight?" She laughed.

"Someone didn't exactly let me say no, so excited isn't exactly the right word." He pouted like a little kid, and she rolled her eyes again. "The girls were more excited than I am...they like anything that is remotely anxiety-causing in my life, and they jump all over the chance to see me all twitchy." She told him.

"This date is anxiety-producing for you?" He asked, and she heard the hitch in his voice-it was obvious that her saying that had upset him in some way. She bit her lip, frowning slightly.

"Any first date is anxiety-producing. Any first of whatever is anxiety-producing." She said quietly, looking down at her hands. "Doesn't necessarily mean that is always bad." She felt him glance over at him. "Eyes on the road, Casanova." She glanced over at him, seeing the small grin on his face as he focused on driving.

"Yeah, I'm nervous, too. I'm nervous that it's not gonna be good enough to impress you." Her nose twitched again, and she rubbed the tip of it with her index finger once again.

"I'm surprised to hear you say you're nervous. Something tells me that you're ego is normally so huge that you don't exactly fear anything." He laughed, pulling into the parking lot of an Italian restaurant.

"Only the really important things scare me, Miss Beca Mitchell." He parked the car and turned it off, turning to give her a smile. "Italian, okay?"

"Yeah, Italian's fine." She unbuckled her seat belt and reached for the car door. She felt the heat of his hand as he laid it on her arm. She glanced back at him.

"Let me get the door for you."

"I have two hands, idiot. I'm an adult woman, not a damned child." She told him, crossing her arms. "This is the twenty-first century, not the seventeenth." He rolled his eyes at her.

"Oh, I know you're more than capable of taking care of yourself, despite the fact that you look like a toddler, but I want to hold the door for you, because I want to show you that I respect you and I like you. Is that okay?" Beca sighed. Jesse was a pain in the ass. It was still a misogynistic thing to do, but he seemed so heartfelt about it.

"Fine." She muttered, leaning back in the seat with a pout on her face.

"Great!" He jumped out of the car and rushed to her side to open the door for her. He opened the door for her, grinning all the while. He grabbed her hand and walked her to the door of the restaurant. She tried to keep her breathing even, since he had interlaced his fingers with hers. The heat of his palm against hers made her stomach clench, and she glanced away from him, rubbing the tip of her nose with her fingertip. "So, is that like a nervous habit you have?" She jumped, glancing at him. "The nose thing? You've rubbed the tip of your nose with your right index finger three times in the last fifteen minutes." She blushed.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that." Beca said, biting her lip and squeezing her right hand into a fist to keep from scratching her nose like an idiot.

"That's something else you do a lot. You bite your lip." Jesse nudged her with his shoulder, squeezing her hand lightly with his. "I like the lip biting better, in case you're wondering...draws attention to your mouth, which makes me think of kissing you." Her jaw dropped open, and she stared at him in shock, her eyebrows raised in shock. He just flashed her an innocent smile.

"You're ballsy, Mr. Swanson. Who said I'm gonna let you kiss me?" She said, stopping and pulling her hand from his to cross her arms as she stared at him in amusement. He smiled at her, a smile that she could only describe as sinful. He stepped forward, crowding her space until his chest was flush against her crossed arms. She stared up at him, as he stared down at her. Her breathing hitched when she felt his fingertips dig into her hipbones. His face inched towards hers until the tip of his nose brushed against hers. She could feel his breath mixing with hers, and she noticed that it smelled minty and sweet. She barely knew this guy, but she knew that if he closed the distance between their mouths right then, she would kiss him back. Her stomach was practically folding in on itself with the way that it was clenching over how close he was to her. Suddenly, his face was no longer within millimeters of hers, and he was stepping away from her, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Who said I was going to try and kiss you?" He said, his voice deeper and huskier. "I'm just not that kind of guy, Miss Mitchell. I'm offended that you think so low of me! I absolutely don't kiss on the first date. Sheesh!" She chuckled, shaking her head and looking away from him. "Go ahead and rub your nose and bite you lip. We both know you want to." She scrunched her nose at him, because, damn it, if he couldn't read her like a book in that moment. She tried her best not to, but finally, she couldn't hold back any longer. She reached up to brush the tip of her nose furiously. He chuckled, and she pouted at him, her bottom lip jutting out like Chloe's sister's three year old often did when she didn't get her way. "Oh, stop." He said, stepping forward to pull her into a hug. She refused to hug him back, but it didn't stop her from breathing in the spicy smell of his cologne. Fuck, it appeared he was nicely muscled beneath his shirt like Chloe had guessed on Saturday night. He released her. "C'mon, let's get some dinner."

They walked inside and within ten minutes, they were seated and perusing the menu. Jesse was quietly muttering to himself about whether he was going to get the lobster or the really expensive steak dish. Beca rolled her eyes, because he was making a big stink about her paying for dinner, but it was the only way that she would agree to this stupid date. "You're like a child."

"Thank you! Speaking of children, since we both know that it is inevitable that we will be having them, we should probably start picking out the names now. I'm partial to the name Aaryn. It's cute, right? Good for a boy or a girl. Plus, we could spell it a-a-r-y-n, rather than a-a-r-o-n or e-r-i-n. Gives it a uniqueness, you know? Like his or her mommy and daddy. Let's just hope that our kids inherit my height, because it's going to be pathetic enough that you will be able to wear the same outfits as a nine year old. We really don't want history to repeat itself for our kid." She just stared at him, because what the fuck? "Oh, my God, the look on your face is fantastic. I have to take a picture of it!" He pulled out his cell phone and snapped a picture of her horrified facial expression. "Yup, that's going on the save the dates!" He started laughing, shoving his phone into his pocket again. She didn't even know what to say, because this guy was insane. He had to be, right? There was no other explanation for how fucking odd he was. "I'm messing with you, Beca. I'd love our child even if he or she inherited your dwarfism."

"You're kidding, right?"

"Yes, of course, I'm kidding. Don't get me wrong. I believe in fate and all that, but even I'm not that crazy to really believe that you and I are gonna get married and have babies. It's only the first date. That's date two talk. Duh." She let out a high-pitched giggle of discomfort, because this guy was freaking her out. Mainly, because she was looking forward to spending more time with him. Motherfucking fuckity fuck shit, she thought to herself. That was beyond embarrassing. One of his eyebrows rose at the giggle.

"That is my 'how fast should I be running away' laugh." She told him, and he smiled at her.

"So, tell me about yourself, Beca. Where are you from originally?" She cocked an eyebrow at him.

"How'd you know I'm not from L.A. or California, in general?"

"You're accent. It's like a weird combination of north-eastern slang and southern drawl." She cocked an eyebrow at him. "The northerner in me knows my fellow northerners. Plus, you dropped a y'all when I met you, which you seemed embarrassed about." She blushed.

"Born and raised in Philly area, but my dad lives and works in Atlanta, and I spent a lot of my summers and some holidays in Atlanta before finally going to college there. Occasionally, a little southern tang slips in when I don't want it to." He smiled at her. "You're a New Yorker."

"Yes, ma'am. Born and raised in Manhattan. Went to NYU for my bachelor's and master's." Beca's jaw dropped open. Bachelor's and master's degree? Holy shit. NYU was a hard school to get into for a bachelor's degree, but adding in getting in for a master's, as well? This guy was obviously talented.

"Really? What did you major in?" She swallowed, waiting to hear something about music performance or something like that. Well, at least she knew that he had talent, so if he tried to force his big break down her throat, it wouldn't be as uncomfortable as it is when she's around people who had no talent.

"Music composition for both degrees. My elective concentration for both degrees was composition for film and multimedia. See, combining my two loves: movies and music." Music composition was not what she was expecting.

"Music composition." She repeated, smiling. She hoped he didn't pick up on the relief.

"Yeah, it was always my goal to score movies, blow people's minds, all that. I mean, that is where my passion for music started. I watched a movie, and I noticed how awesome the musical track behind it was-it helped me to figure out what was going on in the moment. I had just started taking piano lessons, so I was always so crazed about anything that had to do with piano. So, when I like really realized that there is music involved with movies, I fell in love. I knew that was what I was destined to do. So, I learned any instrument I could get my hands on. Thank God my parents were both doctors, because they could afford to send me to private music schools and giving me all of these insane lessons in piano, violin, viola, cello, harp, drums, guitar, saxophone, oboe, et cetera. You name it, I probably took some lessons in it. I became obsessed with learning how to play instrument. My core instrument, though, is piano. I primarily write everything on piano and then use electronic programs to fill in the other instruments, because I'm not as strong in them as I am in piano."

The entire time he was talking, she watched him. His eyes were huge and bright, and there was a massive grin on his face. He was practically bouncing in his seat, and his hands were flying as he talked. He spoke quickly and animatedly. He was excited about music, and it made her smile, because that was how she was when she made music. Granted, she wasn't the one who wrote it or even performed it, but she was the one that helped to edit it and piece it together. She was the one who got to play around with its tempo, speed, volume, and the list went on. She was the one who got to take the many different parts that Jesse was talking about-the vocals, the guitar, the bass, the drums-and put it together in a way that flowed and made sense. She helped bring the finished product to everyone else. She liked the behind the scenes stuff.

"Sorry, I'm rambling and acting like a total fool. Classic first date etiquette dictates that I'm not supposed to talk about myself, but to ask you a bunch of questions." He blushed.

"No, it's fine. I like hearing you talk about music. It's your passion. So, after you got your master's, what did you do? How did you end up here in L.A.?" She asked him, closing her menu and setting it onto the table in front of her. He ran a hand through his hair.

"Well, I worked in the City for about two years, teaching music part-time and working on freelance pieces for different television shows and stuff. Nothing too permanent, but it paid the bills. Like I said, thank God my parents were doctors, so I could afford to go to school without worrying about financial aid and working and shit like that. I could afford to be in a not so permanent position while I waited for that big break, you know?" He swallowed, smiling at the waiter who placed two glasses of the white wine they had ordered in front of them. "We need a few more minutes." He said, and the waiter nodded, wandering off.

"And, moving here?" She opened her menu and began looking through it again, settling for the eggplant parm with spaghetti. She closed the menu once again and set it aside as he answered her question.

"Well, a bunch of my old friends from college had moved out here while I was get my master's and working. I visited them a bit, and I really fell for L.A. Plus, it would help to make my dream of scoring and soundtracking movies a reality if I actually lived where most of them were made, right?" He laughed, shrugging his shoulders. "So, I sent out resumes and copies of my pieces and got some freelance work out here. I'm not where I want to be yet, but I'm happy." She smiled at him, nodding her head. "What about you, Beca?"

"Well, I didn't get my master's." She joked, sipping her wine. "My dad is an English professor at Barden University, so after I graduated from high school, I got a free-ride to Barden, so I didn't really look into going to any other colleges. I didn't have plans on going to college at all, but I was eighteen with barely any money in the bank, because how much money can you really make working part-time in a coffee shop in the suburbs of Philly?" She shrugged her shoulders. "My dream was to go straight here and DJ until I got my big break, but my dad wouldn't help me out, even though he and my step-mom could afford it. Some of us aren't lucky enough to have parents that give a shit and support your dreams." She said dejectedly. He frowned.

"I'm sure that your dad supports you." She shook her head, scoffing at him.

"He told me the day that I moved into college that DJing is a hobby and not a career, and then he had the nerve to suggest that I major in something other than music production and engineering at Barden. All I have to say is that if I was stuck taking bullshit music theory classes at Barden, I probably would have hitched, stripped, and sold my body in order to get across the country and to live in LA. Thankfully, Barden had production classes. I don't need music theory to know how to mix music to sound good or how to blend upbeats with downbeats, and how to tweak rhythms and when to bring one melody to the forefront and push another to the background." She rolled her eyes.

"It's a shame that you didn't look into other colleges. NYU has music technology programs in both undergrad and graduate levels. I had a lot of friends in both of them."

"I know. My boss went to Barden for his undergrad and then his master's at NYU for music business with a music technology concentration. I met him my freshman year at Barden when he was a senior. He was my station manager at the radio station that I worked at. He and I kept in touch after he graduated, and when I graduated from Barden and told him I was finally moving to LA, he hooked me up with a job at Wharton Records, where he's head of the music productions department. Now, he does mainly the business side of music production, meeting with agents and the people that do the shit that you want to do, and I'm his favorite music producer, doing the shit that I love to do." She bit her lip. "The only reason why I went to college at all was because Barden was free. My dad and the step-monster could have afforded to help me go to college, but my mom and step-dad wouldn't have been able to do it. My dad wouldn't have let me go to any school and major in music production, like NYU or whatever. He would have refused to pay, but because he didn't have to pay for Barden, he couldn't really control what it was that I majored in."

"How does he feel about you doing the job you have now?"

"Every time I call him, he asks me if I'm calling because I lost my job and need money." She rolled her eyes. "Suffice to say, I don't call him often except when it is a holiday or someone's birthday. My dad and I don't really get along, you know?"

"I can tell. What about you and your mom?"

"My mom's great. She works at some pharmaceutical company in sales. Her husband, Mike, works in another department in the company. He's cool, I guess."

"You guess?"

"Yeah, I mean, he's nice, plain, kind of boring. He likes making model cars and planes and shit. I always know what to get him for his birthday and Christmas." She shrugged. "He and I don't really talk much, even though they got married when I was fourteen. The step-monster and I can barely look at each other; she's a gynecologist, so she constantly calling me to talk about my gynecological health. Like I want her to know anything about what's going on between my legs." Jesse choked on the mouthful of wine that he had. "Sorry, I should stop referring to my vagina on our first date." He groaned, running a hand down his face.

"You're really bad news, Beca Mitchell." Beca smiled innocently at him, which made him shake his head at her. The waiter chose that moment to harass them again, asking if they wanted any more wine and if they were ready to place their orders. "Ladies, first." He said, waving his hand to her.

"Well, then you better place your order fast, nerd, 'cause I'm hungry." He stared pointedly at her, and she just grinned at him before turning to the waiter, who was trying to remain completely professional. "I'll take the eggplant parm with spaghetti, please."

"Would you like a vegetable or a garden salad as your side?" The waiter asked as he scribbled down her order on his pad.

"Um...salad. More veggies that way, right?" She joked. "Can I get the balsamic vinaigrette on the side?" The waiter nodded and scribbled down her side order before turning to Jesse.

"For you, sir?" The waiter asked him.

"I'll take the acqua pazza and the garden salad, with the vinaigrette, as well." Jesse said the dish in perfect Italian, which made Beca cock an eyebrow at him. The waiter wondered off, a "NYU has a foreign language requirement. I took Italian. It is the language of love, right?"

"I thought that was French? Or Spanish?" He shrugged.

"I think Italian is way more romantic than French and Spanish. It's similar to Spanish, though." He said, scratching the back of his head. "I think? I dunno."

"Does it matter?" She asked him, her head cocked to the side.

"Only if you think that French or Spanish is sexier than Italian." She laughed, rolling her eyes. "Seriously, though. Is me being able to say some stuff in Italian sexy?"

She contemplated it for a moment, deciding what to say. It actually was kind of sexy when he said the dish in Italian, but if she was into the whole foreign thing, she would have fell for Julio or Luke. Luke was a Brit with killer abs. She bit her lip, shrugging her shoulders. "I guess hearing someone say something in any foreign language is kind of sexy, but if I wanted to date someone who had an accent or spoke a different language, I could date my boss again."

"Again? You dated your boss?" He frowned, which made her smile at his obvious discomfort and, dare she say it, jealousy.

"When we were in college. It wouldn't really be accurate to say that we dated, I guess; basically, we hooked up occasionally during that year of college and parted ways as friends. Working together now and hooking up wouldn't work, so we're just friends."

"But he's seen you naked and done things with you naked."

"I love me some naked backgammon." She said sarcastically. He narrowed his eyes at her. "Oh, c'mon. You've never hooked up with a friend?"

"I haven't had many female friends except the girls that dated my friends. Usually the only girls I hang out with that aren't dating a friend of mine are the girls that I'm interested in. So, no, I haven't exactly hooked up with a friend."

"Oh..." Beca shrugged. The whole point of this stupid dare was because she hooked up too much, according to her friends, so she kind of felt weird about letting Jesse know how much of a slut she could be. Well, it's not like she slept with a guy (or girl) who breathed around her, like Stacie does, but she's not exactly innocent. "So..." She said quietly, embarrassed about him hearing something so intimate about her past. She looked away, scratching the tip of her nose.

"Beca," he said, frowning. "I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable or something. It's just its weird to know that you and your boss have hooked up in the past. That means that he's my competition or whatever." She blushed.

"Competition?"

"Yeah, well, you said he's got an accent or speaks a foreign language, you guys used to fool around, and he's like got a legit job in the music business..." He shrugged. She chuckled.

"No. Yeah, so Luke and I've hooked up like a total of like ten or fifteen times, tops. Like every now and again during that one year of college. We're just friends now. He's like my best guy friend. Like, he could be my brother or something now."

"A brother you just happen to know if the biblical sense?" She sighed. Clearly, they weren't getting past this anytime soon.

"I said he's like my brother now. There's nothing going on with us." This was why she never told the girls that she and Luke used to fool around in college. She didn't want to deal with this kind of crap with them, and now she screwed up things with Jesse after being on a date for like five minutes.

The waiter walked up, dropping off their salads. She smiled politely at him as he put the salad in front of her and asked them if they wanted any more wine. "Yes, please." Jesse said, and the waiter left. "I'm sorry if I'm making you uncomfortable."

"I'm sorry I brought it up. I just...all I was trying to say is that I don't need that kind of stuff in a guy." She said, biting her lip as she stabbed some lettuce with her salad fork. "I'm sorry. This was going so well, and then I had to go and step in it and fuck everything up. I'm not exactly good at this whole dating thing. As you can probably tell, I'm more of a have a couple of drinks and have a fun before we go our separate ways kind of girl." She winced, because that only made her sound like more of a slut.

"You're doing fine..." He said, running a hand through his hair. "I'm glad you gave me a chance for something more than a couple for drinks and some fun..." He furrowed his brow. "Well, I mean, I'm not opposed to the having some fun stuff." She chuckled, shaking her head.

"You're an idiot." She muttered. "So, before I went and fucked everything up and made shit awkward, we were talking about my parental issues. What about you? You're parents were doctors...how did you get into music and composition? Isn't being a doctor supposed to run in your family or something?"

"Um, yeah, none of my grandparents went to college, and both sides of the family were working class. My parents did really well in school and got full-rides to college. Then, they worked their way through medical school and got scholarships and financial aid and such. They met in med school, fell in love, and got married. Their families were really supportive of their pursuing med school, so my parents wanted me to follow my passion. They wanted me to be well-rounded, so they put me in piano lessons when I was three. I fell in love with it, so they threw me into any music class that I wanted to be in. I loved all of it, kept asking for more. So, when I wanted to go for music composition-even though it was something that many people don't succeed in, they helped me out. When I wanted to get my master's to make me more attractive to employers, they helped me out. They didn't have those opportunities growing up, so they wanted me to have them."

"That sounds nice." That wasn't something that Beca was used to; at least not since she was a little kid. She smiled, wishing that she had a family that was supportive and loving like that. Not that her family didn't love her, but they weren't the most supportive of her dreams and career and life in L.A. They all thought that she should be in business or medicine or teaching or whatever. They didn't think that the music business was a realistic career (despite the fact that she was actually doing what she loved and was getting nominated for awards).

"So, let's play a game, Beca." Jesse said, grinning. She cocked an eyebrow at him. "We'll play a version of truth or dare. Except, it's just truth, and...um...no one really wins anything aside from we say random facts about each other, and we get to know each other." He chuckled, and she rolled her eyes at him.

"Okay, then, you start." She said, digging into her salad.

"Right, well, my favorite color is yellow." He said, stabbing his salad with his fork. "Yours?" She chewed the mouthful of salad before answering him.

"Pink." He snorted, almost choking on the mouthful of food he was currently chewing on. He thought she was kidding, but she wasn't lying. "And, black. But I like hot pink. My entire bedding set is hot pink and white and black. You didn't notice the hot pink patterned throws and pillows on my couch? Or the artwork-all of the various music notes and such in hot pink and black and white? I like to wear a lot of black for work, though. It's more professional than hot pink." He stared at her for a moment, shaking his head.

"No, I was a little distracted by how amazing you looked and how insane your friends are." He told her, taking a sip of his wine. She shrugged, taking another bite of salad. "Okay, so do you have a favorite genre of music or singer or band or something?"

"I thought you were telling me things about yourself, and I was telling you something about myself."

"Okay, so I felt like asking you a question." She took another bite of her salad, which made him roll his eyes and sigh at her. "So, my favorite genre is classical. Surprise, surprise." He shrugged. "I'm a composer. Most of what I compose is instrumental; occasionally, I dabble in lyrics, but it's mainly instrumental." She nodded. "Don't have a favorite composer or period, necessarily. How about you?"

"Classical is nice. I listen to that when I need to wind down and such. Bubble baths and some Mozart is my idea of a good Sunday afternoon." She told him, making him groan at the thought of her in a bubble bath. She held back a giggle. "My favorite is jazz, though. My favorite singer of all time is Frank Sinatra, but I love any old school jazz-Ella, Nat, Bing, et cetera."

"You know, I didn't really peg you as a old school jazz chick. I thought you'd be all about Katy Perry and shit, considering what you do for a living." She shrugged.

"Yeah, I love all different kinds of music, but you asked for my favorite, and that is jazz." Beca finished up her salad, sipping her wine as she watched Jesse munch on his food. "So, nerd, tell me what your favorite movie is."

"As long as you tell me what your favorite porno is." He joked, making her laugh and roll her eyes at him. "This is like the hardest question known to man. I love all movies, even the crappiest, stupidest movies, like Glitter." She cocked an eyebrow at him. "Mariah Carey is not an actress. That's all you need to know." She widened her eyes and nodded her head. "But if I had to pick a favorite...shit, do I really have to pick a favorite?"

"Yes, you do."

"Top five?" She shook her head. "Genre?"

"I'm willing to take favorite genre, but I still want favorite movie. If I'm supposed to be subjected to this bullshit, I think I deserve to know what I'm getting myself into." He sighed.

"Fine. Favorite genre...rom-com, chick flick, whatever you want to call it." She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth in order to keep from laughing. "Don't you make fun of me! I'm a hopeless romantic who wears his heart on his sleeve. I love rom-coms. Although, sci-fi movies usually have the most fantastic scores." He frowned. "Okay, it's a tossup between rom-coms and sci-fi. Rom-coms for the lover in me, and sci-fi for the scores."

"Favorite movie." She said, taking another sip of wine. She smiled when he pouted.

"Fuck, this is hard." He ran a hand through his hair. "Can I give you my favorite director?"

"Jesse..." She sighed.

"Fine, I guess I will go with...shit...Star Wars? My roommate and I watched every Star Wars movie about six thousand times freshman year of college. His side of the room was decorated with all things Star Wars. He's a cool dude. One of my best friends. He and I moved to L.A. together last year. His name's Benji."

"Uggh, does this mean I have to watch it? I mean, I know that Darth Vader is Luke's father, so..." He shook his head.

"I just...uggh! You not liking movies is killing me. You know that?" She chuckled.

Dinner continued much in the same fashion. Jesse went into detail about his top five favorite movies: who directed them, who produced them, when they were made, who starred in them, what the plot was like, and, of course, what the score or soundtrack was like. Beca was her snarky self, making fun of him and his insane obsession with movies; she especially made fun of all of his fun facts that weren't really all that fun. He would ask her about her work, why she loved jazz so much, how she became friends with the girls. She made sure to ignore any questions that he had that related to her family, which he seemed to mentally file away for later. Fuck, this is why she didn't date people, because they can ask questions about shit she doesn't want to talk about later on.

"So, what is this part two of the date, exactly?" She asked as they walked back to his car, their fingers interlaced like before.

"You'll see."

"Is this the part where you drive me off into the middle of nowhere, rape and murder me, and then leave my body on the side of the road?"

"Shit! You figured out my plan!" He joked as he opened the door to the passenger's seat for her. She rolled her eyes as she climbed in. "You'll see in a few minutes." She grumbled to herself about how much she hated surprises while he walked around the car and climbed into the driver's seat. Fifteen minutes later, they pulled up to a miniature golf course. She turned and stared at him.

"Really? Mini-golf? I'm not drunk enough for this." She told him, making him laugh. He climbed out of the car and raced around to open the door for her.

"C'mon. It'll be fun." He held a hand out to her. She sighed, allowing him to pull her from the car and lead them to get their clubs and balls. "Hot pink for you." He said, handing her the ball. "Yellow for me."

"This is a really bad idea." She muttered. She got really competitive when it came to mini-golf and bowling and things like that. The girls refused to take her to places like this anymore. Now, they pretty much only frequent restaurants, diners, clubs, and bars. Oh, and the mall. Chloe and Stacie fucking loved the mall. Beca? Yeah, not so much. She already put her foot in her mouth earlier, and she really didn't want to ruin the date over her getting insanely competitive now.

"I'll show you how to play, if you worried about that. I'm not the best at mini-golf, but I'm pretty good." She rubbed her nose frantically, making him chuckle and release her hand to wrap an arm around her waist. He pulled her flush against his side. "It'll be fun."

"Oh, yeah. So much fun." She said under her breath. They got to the first hole, and he said that she should go first. He came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her and showed her how to hold the club and to swing it. She had to admit that it wasn't that bad to have his body pressed against hers. Shit, her mind was going to the gutter...

"Go ahead." He said, stepping back, and she took a deep breath to try and calm her competitiveness. She swung the club and the ball sailed down the green and landed perfectly into the cup. She felt the buzz of excitement of getting the hole in one, and she grinned. "Great first shot! See, there's nothing to be worried about." She swallowed, because the first taste of success was pounding through her, making her buzz with competitiveness. She had to win this game. Seriously, it was like an addiction. She could fully understand where addicts were coming from with their need for their next fix, because she needed to get to the next hole and get another hole in one.

Jesse stepped up and put his ball down. He took a couple of practice shots that made Beca antsy, because she needed to get to the next hole. He lined up, and already she could tell that he wasn't going to get a hole in one from the way his body was positioned and the way that he was holding the club. He hit the ball, and it flew up the green, sailing past the hole, about an inch shy of it, and hitting the back ledge before bouncing back and rolling to a stop about a half foot from the hole.

"Bummer." He shrugged, smiling. He made his way over to the ball and sunk it into the hole on the second shot. She practically ran to the next hole, making him chuckle. "Someone's having fun." He said, as he watched her line up her next shot before hitting it, once again getting another hole in one. "Someone also lied about this being their first time playing mini-golf." He said, whistling.

"Um, actually, I never said it was my first time. I just said it was a bad idea to take me mini-golfing. I get insanely competitive. Like the girls refuse to take me to anything like this anymore." She bit her lip; the corners of her mouth quirked up innocently, and he grinned in response.

"Well, I'm prepared to be destroyed." He said, putting his golf ball down. He was about to take the shot when she stopped him.

"Wait! You're going to have a shitty game if you do it like that." She walked over to him to poke him in the stomach. Her own stomach clenched when she felt nothing but what appeared to be nicely muscled abs beneath his shirt. "Should I show you?" He cocked an eyebrow at her before slightly nodding his head at her. She walked around him, helping him to reposition himself before stepping back, letting him take the shot. This time, he got a hole in one, and he grinned, pulling her into a tight hug.

"You're a good teacher." He whispered into her ear, making her blush. They spent the rest of the game being entirely too handsy with one another, helping each other before they would take a shot. She purposely grazed his butt several times when she was helping him get into position, or would grind her butt against the front of him when he was helping her, smiling at the groans that would vibrate through his chest against her back. He got her back, though, by smacking her butt at one point as she was hitting the ball, so that she wound up lobbing it horribly.

Beca was amazed to see that she wasn't being controlled by her competitiveness with this game. Or, she was, but the competition was less about the game and more about who could mess with the other person the most without getting too handsy. She found herself having a lot of fun on her date with Jesse, which was not something she was expecting. As they walked back to the car, her purse vibrated for what seemed like the umpteenth time, and she groaned, digging her cell phone out. She had seven missed calls (one from her dad, one from her mom, and five from Aubrey) and twenty-nine text messages.

"Jesus. These people are insane." She muttered as she scrolled through the texts. Seven were work-related from Luke. Six were from Stacie who was recounting in detail about the sex that Chloe had that night as Chloe apparently told her and Aubrey about it. The last text from Stacie was about how she was all hot and bothered by Chloe so that she called Jesse's friend, Donald, and they were going to meet up at his place to fuck. "Apparently, Stacie is hooking up with your friend Donald again. He apparently does this thing where-"

"Stop right there. I don't want to know." He said, holding a hand up at her. She laughed at the look of disgust on his face. She went back to her texts. Six were from Chloe, who apologized about Stacie (who apparently said she was telling Beca all about the sex that Chloe had) and about Aubrey's calls and texts (the rest of the texts-all eighteen of them-were from Aubrey), as well as a couple of sweet messages about how she hoped Beca was having fun. Basically all of Aubrey's texts were about how she better remember the details of the dare, as well as why wasn't Beca responding to any of her texts or phone calls. Apparently, Aubrey assumed that that meant that Beca was being a whore and violating the rules of the dare.

Beca frowned, sending a text to Aubrey and Chloe that she and Jesse were on their way back to her apartment, before she shoved her phone back into her purse. She had actually forgotten about the dare for a while. She was just enjoying spending time with a great guy on a surprisingly fun date. "Penny for your thoughts?" She jumped when she saw that he was glancing over at her from the driver's seat.

"My friends are just crazy. That's all. Plus, my parents called, and when my dad calls, there's usually an argument that results in me not speaking to him for two weeks." She shrugged.

"Okay, well, we're almost at your place..." He said, and she couldn't help but feel disappointed. It appeared that he was, too, because he slowed down and started making random turns so that it would take them longer to get to her apartment. It made her smile to herself.

"I had fun tonight, nerd. You're a surprisingly good time." She said after a few minutes of driving in a comfortable silence.

"Thank you. I'm an even better time in bed, which you will learn soon enough." She opened her mouth to say something, but she noticed that he had finally arrived at her apartment, pulling into one of the empty spaces along the street there. She shut her mouth, because what the hell was she supposed to say in response to that? Well, she thought about telling him what she would like him to do with his tongue when he does get her into bed, but that wouldn't exactly be appropriate, and it would get her in trouble where it comes to the dare, because she was already having a hard enough time with not fucking him in the front seat of his car at this point, and they had only hung out with each other for not even four hours. Adding in a conversation about having sex with each other wasn't going to help her any.

"I would invite you up, but the girls are still there, so I guess we'll have to save that for later." She said, deciding that was the best way to go about it. "I would also kiss you goodnight, but I distinctly remember something about you're not the kind of guy who kisses on first date." She smiled at him sweetly. "You have a lovely evening, Jesse Swanson." She unbuckled her seat belt and glanced out the car window to make sure no one was driving by at that moment before she opened the door. She heard his huff as she climbed out and walked around his car, headed towards the door to her apartment complex.

"What the-" She heard as the door to his car flew open, and there was the muffled curse as he attempted to climb out of the car before he had removed his seat belt. She was halfway up her walkway when she heard the sound of his car door slam, and she made it two or three steps forward before she felt his hand wrap around her upper arm so that she was yanked around to face him, pulled flush against his chest. "I'm more than willing to make an exception." He muttered, closing the distance between them to kiss her. Hard.

Beca Mitchell knew two things in that moment: one, Jesse Swanson was a fantastic kisser; and, two, she was in deep shit, because she was finding herself falling hard for this guy. He was too perfect. There had to be something wrong with him, because no guy was this fantastic. Even his annoying obsession with movies and his weird sense of humor (like the marriage and baby thing, because fuck no--she was never having babies)-everything about him that was actually annoying and unattractive was actually rather endearing.

The kiss was highly inappropriate to be done in the middle of the walkway up to her apartment complex. His fingers of one hand were digging into her waist, whereas his other hand was tangled into hair at the back of her head. She met the kiss with as much vigor, standing on her toes to be closer to him, her own arms wrapped firmly around his neck. She could feel her heart pounding within her chest, and she was sure that he could feel it through the layer of their clothing. The scruff of a beard was scratching against her skin, rubbing her chin cheeks slightly raw. In the back of her mind, she couldn't help but think about how she was going to have beard burn, but she was too caught up in the kiss to worry about it then. When air became a problem, she pulled her face back, breathing heavily. He slipped his hand from her hair, making her wince and suck in a deep breath when his fingers got caught in some of the locks of her hair. "Sorry," he muttered, pressing a light kiss to her lips as he tried to smooth some of her hair back into place.

"It's okay." She whispered in response. She started to inch her hands away from his neck, but he squeezed her hips with both of his hands, keeping her close to him.

"I don't want to let go yet." He said, leaning his forehead against hers. She smiled at him, rolling her eyes half-heartedly. "You taste good." He kissed her again, biting on her bottom lip, making her moan quietly and dig her fingers into his shoulders.

"Not fair," she told him when he released her bottom lip. She started to kiss him again, but he stopped the kiss only after a few moments. She frowned.

"We have an audience." He told her, and she glanced over her shoulder to see that Chloe and Aubrey had their noses pressed against the glass of the doorway. She sighed heavily, facing forward once again.

"Uggh! If you don't leave now, we'll never hear the end of it. You won't make it out of my apartment alive." He chuckled.

"I would die a happy man." He smiled, pressing a kiss to her forehead, then her nose, and then her lips. "Well, I'd be happier if we could spend some more time together, but this was a great first date, I'd say."

"I'd agree...I guess." She said, rolling her eyes.

"You guess?" He pouted, his bottom lip jutting out. She laughed, rising onto her toes to press a light kiss to his bottom lip. He smiled at her, rubbing his nose against hers. "When can I see you again? Soon?"

"This weekend some time, I think?" She said, scratching the back of her head.

"Saturday? Perfect movie day. We could do a late lunch or something and do a movie marathon." He said, looking like a little kid with a giant grin on his face. She groaned, pouting. "Fine, one movie, then." He said, hanging his head.

"I think that one movie is enough for my first movie in years." She said, earning a shy smile from him. "We will work out the time later." Her phone started buzzing, and she guessed that it was probably from Aubrey. "Uggh, I better go."

"Goodnight, Beca." He pressed a final kiss to her lips. "I will talk to you soon." He stepped away from her, finally releasing her from his arms. She smiled at him.

"Goodnight, Jesse." She said, watching him climb into his car once again and start it up. She waved goodbye as he pulled into the street and started to drive away. She turned around and walked up the rest of the walkway to the door. The door flew open, and she was met with Aubrey's tense face and Chloe's beaming one.

"That was a hot kiss! Did you have fun? When are you guys hanging out again? Are you getting married? Seriously, that was a hot kiss!" Chloe said, as she pulled Beca through the door.

Aubrey, on the other hand, did not look as excited for her. "What the hell was that? You looked like you were about to have sex with him in the middle of the sidewalk. If we weren't here, would you have brought him upstairs and broke the rules of the dare? Seriously, though. Act your age, Beca! You're almost thirty."

"Almost thirty?" Beca rolled her eyes. "I'm twenty-six. For like three days." She pushed past them towards the elevator. Chloe was chattering on and on about how great they looked together and how she couldn't wait to hear about the date. Her phone buzzed, and she pulled it from her purse to glance at it. She smiled when she saw that it was another text from Jesse.

12:12 AM Tue, April 23
From: The Nerd

I had an amazing time tonight, Beca. I look forward to our next date. xoxo