I tried to just relax.

Breathe in, breathe out.

At this moment, Santana had her right hand on my hip and her left on my shoulder. My back was pressed so hard into her front that most people would have had a hard time determining who was who. My heart was beating faster than it ever had before. I could feel her own heart beating into my back. They were almost in rhythm.

I was still staring over my shoulder and into her eyes when I saw Sam start walking back towards me, slightly confused. I turned all the way around and was greeted with Santana's pearly white teeth in a giant smile as she slid her left hand down my side and interlocked her hands just behind the small of my back. We looked like we were dancing together.

"Where did you go? What took you so long?" I asked her in the quietest voice I could manage over Will Hoge's playing. Our eyes remained locked. I had never realized what a beautiful shade of dark brown they were. A chill ran up my spine, and almost as if she could feel me getting colder, she pulled me in even tighter. My head was spinning and my heart, for what felt like the millionth time that night, felt like it was going to leap from my chest. I had almost forgotten what question I had answered when her reply quickly brought me back down.

"To the bar. I had a shot or two and then decided to be thoughtful and bring you your drink. You okay, Britt?" Santana looked at me with a concerned look on her face.

"Yeah, uh… yeah, I'm totally fine," I managed. I started to twist out of her hands, but decided against it. They felt comfortable there. I noticed that Sam was getting closer by the second, and as he walked up, I took the liberty of introducing them. "Santana, meet Sam. Sam—Santana," I said.

They both smiled at each other and Santana released me from her grasp to shake his hand. I noticed Sam giving her a glance from head to toe, and I felt the pangs of jealousy wash over me. Was I really jealous of Santana for grabbing his attention? No, I couldn't be!

I don't want him looking at Santana this way.

I was kind of taken aback by the thought that just bombarded my brain, but I realized it was true. I hated seeing his eyes undress her. Initially I was confused by my thoughts.

I must like him more than I realized.

The sensual song Will had been singing ended, and he began one called "Woman, Be Strong," which I realized I had heard before. I loved it. It was slow and meaningful, but it had so much energy to it. The crowd was going wild, and the three-way awkwardfest was halted in its tracks as we all turned our attention to the stage for the remainder of the song. Though we were all facing the stage, with Sam standing between us, I couldn't help but feel as though Santana's hands were still on me and her eyes were still baring into me.

Here goes my heart again.

As he finished up, I had sipped the remaining drops out of my vodka-cranberry and turned to Santana, seeing her swallow the final gulps of what must have been her fifth Newcastle. I decided that she probably needed to sit down.

"Follow me," I instructed as I led her back to our table. Sam followed, which I didn't mind. We all took a seat, and I motioned at Rachel across the bar to bring us three waters. It was getting late.

We all should head home soon.

Sam grabbed a chair from the next table over, and pulled it up to the side of our table. I still couldn't tell whose pants he was trying to get into, but I knew that neither choice would be a success for him. He was nice and all, but he was a lot older, and I had made myself promise that I would get Santana home once I realized how much she drank. And Santana? Well she was so drunk that she had been twirling and staring at her own hair for almost three minutes, so she wasn't in any shape to go home with anyone.

After a little time had passed, I finally felt sober enough to drive, and had convinced Santana that I wouldn't wreck her car on the way to her house. I stood up and tried to give a waving goodbye to the green-eyed hottie, but as soon as I signaled that I was leaving, he held a finger in the air and mouthed for me to wait a second. I stopped and held onto Santana to keep her from wondering away. A few seconds later, I was inches away from Sam and he was telling me how much enjoyed spending time with me that night.

"Yeah, I totally agree! We should hang out again soon!"

I sounded like a complete moron. I didn't really want to hang out with him again. From the bland conversation we had during the rest of the time at the table, I had decided he must have no personality. But I didn't have the heart to flat-out turn him down like this.

He grinned, "Can I get your number then, Brittany?"

"Sure!" I said, with the unavoidable smile plastered to my face. Inside, I knew I was never going to answer a call from him, but it definitely boosted my ego that such a smokin' hot guy found me attractive.

He turned back to walk back towards the bar, and suddenly my attention was averted back to the drunk girl I was escorting.

"Are you okay, San?"

"Oh yeah, Britt. I'm fine. You know I could kick that trouty-mouth motherfucker's ass, though. Right?"

For a split second I didn't know who or what she was talking about, until I looked back over my shoulder and stole one last glance of Sam's lips.

Trouty mouth. Hah!

I couldn't help but chuckle under my breath, even though I didn't understand Santana's desire to declare her dominance over the prick. I decided to amuse her.

"Of course I know that! You are such a badass, San! Everyone knows that!"

On the inside I was laughing, but on the outside I knew that Santana was reveling in what I said, as I saw the battle between the two of them being played out in her head.

"Get in the car, San. I'm gonna drive you home. Though I know that I'm sober enough to be driving, my parents would kick my ass if they knew I got behind the wheel after even a drop. So I'm staying at your place once we get there."

"That's great!" she said, with a little too much enthusiasm.

I chuckled to myself, "Well, someone's in a good mood, aren't they?" I asked.

"I'm always in a good mood when I'm with you, Brittany…"

I looked over at the brunette and momentarily got lost in the same look I had seen in BreadStix when I caught her looking at me before, and over my shoulder while looking for Sam. Santana had her gaze completely connected with mine, and for what felt like the millionth time tonight, my heart started racing at the idea of Santana flirting with me. I decided that, A) she was drunk, B) I was slightly tipsy and, thus, more gutsy than usual, and C) that the timing seemed right. I was going to ask Santana a few questions.

We emerged from the smoky restaurant and into the night air, making the final trek to her car. She was struggling a bit, so I had my arm around her waist, with hers around my shoulder on the way out. I smiled to myself.

I love being this close to someone. Where you know you've always got someone to take care of you.

At the end of the drive, I pulled into her driveway, and she started to reach for the handle. I grabbed her other hand and pulled her towards me across the console of the car.

"Wait…" I uttered. "Don't get out of the car yet. I need to ask you something."

"Ok, Britt, baby. What's up?" She leaned in a little closer, and we were only inches away in the front seat. I could see her eyes trying to concentrate on me, but I also knew they were struggling to just stay awake.

"I… uhhh… it's just… well…"

I could sense Santana turning the rest of her body to face me. I could feel her face harden with concern as I stumbled over my words, deciding that there was no way I wanted to word things incorrectly.

"Brittany! Just spit it out already!" Santana was still on the border between buzzed and drunk, which made me kind of nervous. But, the good news was she had woken up a little bit more once she realized that I was going to say something of substance.

Do I really want to risk her not remembering this conversation?

But then I realized that there was no way I would have the 'balls' to have this conversation with her when we were both completely sober.

"OK, San. Here it is." I took a huge breath in and out before I started speaking the longest run-on sentence of my life: "I might be totally making this up and if I am then I am sorry because I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable and I don't want you to think that I am uncomfortable with it, but I can't help but feel as though you've been hitting on me all day and I've never felt you do that before but it seemed like something changed and so I guess I just want to know what you're thinking or if I'm making this all up because I don't want you to be falling in love with me if it will mess up our friendship and that wouldn't be fair because you're my best friend and I'm your best friend and we should tell each other what is going on in our lives so please just tell me if I'm crazy or not because I won't be able to sleep until you do."

Suddenly I could see the emotions drain from Santana's face as she absorbed what I had said.

Oh no, had I embarrassed her? Had I gone too far with my questions?

We both sat there, staring into each others' eyes with more intensity than either of us knew possible. I could feel the fear growing inside of her, so I placed my right hand on her left forearm again, trying to give her the reassurance enough to talk. She averted her eyes when I laid my hand on her, and I heard her breath catch. After what seemed like an eternity of us boring our eyes into each other's, she split her lips open to speak.

"Brittany, I can't have this conversation with you right now. I need some sleep. I need to process what you asked me."

I was suddenly aware of the fact that my rambling had knocked her out of her inebriated state into one of complete sobriety.

Shit.

I wasn't going to get any real response from her tonight, so I got out of the car briefly after she did, and we walked silently upstairs to her room. Without my prompting, she tossed me a beater and boxer shorts to sleep in, and with our backs to each other, we changed into our pajamas. My mind was still racing.

Why wouldn't she answer my questions if she didn't have anything to hide? She MUST have been hitting on me, then, right?

It seemed as if the more I thought about it, the more my concern and obsession with her playfulness tonight grows. In less than twelve hours we had gone from her gushing about some new hot girl in her Economics class, to her wrapping a hand around my waist during a 'slow dance' tonight.

That hand…

My thoughts trailed off, and I didn't really know what they meant.

Had I liked it? No! Of course not! I thought it was Sam… of course!

I began to get slightly more secure with my emotions when the most vivid memory of the night came flooding back into my memory.

When I realized it was Santana, my heart began racing faster than it has ever raced for anyone before.