So I probably should go into some long explanation as to why I haven't updated in a while but that would take away from you actually reading the story so I'm just going to say that college is no joke when you're trying to graduate in the spring.
But first, thanks for all the reviews and alerts. You all are the absolute best for sticking with me and this and putting up with my long breaks between updates. For that, I am eternally grateful. Second, for all you Santexa fans, some hot fun with them in this chapter. But fear not Pezberry fans (which is why you are even reading this story), there's some Pezberry interaction here too (But definitely more to come )
enjoy and review
disclaimer: I own nothing but Caroline, Gavin and Alexa
Previously on Santana and Alexa's date...
"So dancing now?" she suggests, like she was reading my mind.
"Sure. Why not?" She smiles and hops down from the bar stool, landing in front of me. She reaches out her hand, grabs a loose hold of my collar and pulls me to my feet. She walks backwards, slowly guiding me to the dance floor. The entire time her eyes stay locked on mine. Under the dark lighting of the club and her black eyeliner, her normally brown eyes are nearly as black as her tie. And it's sexy as hell. As soon as we hit the dance floor, she turns me around, grabs a hold of my hips and pulls my ass into her front. Okay then. Not used to this when I'm out with a girl but I'll go with it. I press my ass further into her and start grinding into her to the beat. She keeps pace and when she puts her hands across my stomach and gently kisses my neck, I'm pretty sure that the heat going through my body isn't just from the alcohol anymore.
Oh. Fuck yeah.
This is going to be a fun night.
And now...
Santana POV
I can honestly say that this is the first time I've genuinely had a fun time out with a girl. And we haven't even had sex yet. Now some might say that I'm being presumptuous by assuming that me and Alexa are even going to have sex but 1) I wouldn't be on this date if not for the prospect of sex. I haven't seriously dated someone since Rachel and after that crashed and burned in the abyss known as hell, I'm not going down that dating road again. No strings. No feelings. No more heartache. And 2) I can tell that she's just as eager to get close to me as I am to get on top of her. So why not capitalize on her want?
We've danced for almost an hour and I don't think I've ever been this turned on from just dancing. The way she moves is almost too perfect. Her dancing is like a delicious combo of Brittany and Rachel. Sexy and precise like Britt yet sensual and seductive with a hint of teasing like Rachel. For a while she stayed behind me, letting me set the cadence. Letting me decide on how we were going to move and how fast or slow. And all the while, she kept up. Every dip or bend or grind or roll I did, she was right there. Although not on the "right there" I want her to be but close enough because the friction created between the two of us is the enough to send heat right to my core and dammit if I don't kiss her.
And why the fuck not? With Waka Flocka's "No Hands" (one of the throwback jams of the night) blasting through the speakers creating a sweaty, lust filled environment, I reach behind me, grab her by the back of the neck, turn my head ever so slightly so my mouth meets hers and kiss her with all the desire I've accumulated throughout the night.
And holy fuck.
I can barely think now. Has it really been that long? Because my whole body is on fire, my barely there panties are beyond soaked and this is just because of one kiss. It doesn't help that Alexa is one fucking good kisser. Normally I only consider myself a good kisser because I am like the greatest (although Britt and Puck were pretty good. And Rachel. Considering she always used her mouth to talk, she was pretty proficient using it for other things too), but god. Her mouth is so hot against mine. Out lips move in sync and I lose it when our tongues meet in her mouth and she lets out the sexiest fucking moan.
I turn around, without breaking the kiss (because I'm that good), in her arms and deepen the kiss further. I'm pretty sure that the way we are kissing is probably pushing the levels of decency (even for in a club) but I couldn't give a fuck. All I care about is the hand of hers that's massaging my lower back and the other that is gripping my ass.
Hot motherfucking damn.
Oh yeah.
It's time to go. This is so not enough.
"Hey," I husk, reluctantly pulling out of the kiss. "Do you want to get out of here?" she looks at me from under darkened and hooded eyes and after licking her lips slowly (dear God), she nods and takes me hand.
Let the games begin.
####
It takes a bit longer for us to get to my car than expected because 1) I'm tipsy and can't walk straight and 2) I'm horny and she's very handsy and we can't keep out hands off each other. When we first leave the club, hands linked, we stop just around the corner to gather ourselves and try to look like civilized people. But instead she pushes me up against the nearest hard surface (which happens to be a closed clothing store that judging by the dress in the window, I may need to visit during store hours) and kisses me all lips, tongue and teeth. I can't believe I didn't jump at the opportunity to be with her from the first time she gave me her number. But I guess it's hard to focus on a potential when you're out for coffee with your past.
Honestly, like why am I even bothering trying to get with or get back at or whatever the fuck I'm doing (I don't even remember my own motives anymore) with Rachel? I know that I still feel something for her and probably always will since we never really got the closure we needed but unless we're both going to let go of our fucked up past, nothing is ever gonna to change between us. And frankly, I don't want to deal with the drama all over again. Not when I have a hot piece of ass currently sucking on the spot behind my ear that always drives me crazy. How she managed to find it in a matter of seconds, I have no idea. Most of my other hookups take a while to find it, if they ever do at all. It took Rachel until our third make out session and nearly 20 minutes to find that exact spot. But this girl?
Ay dios mio.
Where the hell is my damn car?
Because if we don't get to is soon, we will both get arrested for some serious indecent exposure and possibly public nudity (depending on how much of her I want to feel). Right now, I just need to get to my fucking car before I completely lose it.
I push her off my neck abruptly and before she has a chance to react or respond, I take her by the hand and practically drag her away to the club parking lot. Spotting my car, I let go of her hand and sprint as fast as I can go in heels to the driver's side and wait quite impatiently for her to catch up and get into the passenger's side. Once she gets settled, I start the car. "So where to?" I ask hoping she says her dorm because I really don't feel like dealing with the any idiot roommates tonight, I can leave when I want and something about hooking up in a dorm room brings back fun memories of my freshmen year at Columbia.
"Well my roommate had work today so she's probably asleep in the room right now so how about your place?"
Damn.
My face must be saying what I'm thinking because her eyes get big and she starts back pedaling. "I mean, I didn't want to wake her up and you said that you had an apartment so I figured that and it's just a small dorm room and,"
"Alexa!" I shout to stop her rant. She instantly closes her mouth. "Chill out. We can go to my place. I'm sure my roommates,"
"You have roommates?" she interrupts.
"Yeah. Two idiots. But I think they both have to work tonight," at least I hope they do, "so the place should be completely free." She looks out the window for a moment before turning back to look at me. She grins then takes my free hand from on the center console and puts it on her thigh.
"That will work just fine."
"Cool. Then let's go."
####
The entire car ride back to my place (roughly twenty minutes away from the club) is so slow it's almost torturous. Like if I could pull over somewhere and just have my way with her and be done with it, I normally would have by now. But for some reason, I can't bring myself to do it. It feels wrong. Like, I never felt bad or whatever about where I have sex with different girls (the list including but not limited to bathroom stalls, backseat of a cab, back of a college classroom, under the bleachers, VIP room in a club, on a hammock which was pretty tricky to figure out) but I don't want to just go anywhere with her. Maybe it's because I don't want to get in trouble with the cops again. Maybe it's because I like the appeal of being in my own place. In my own bed and in total control of the situation. Or maybe it's because of the look she's giving me right now. There's something so sweet and innocent yet naughty and seductive about it that makes me actually care. But not like "feelings" caring because I don't have time for that right now. More like just caring about where I lay her down. That's all. Nothing more.
####
The ride up to my apartment is quiet. Like creepy quiet. And the air between is eerily heavy. Somewhere from the club to my car and to my apartment, Alexa's attitude has changed. It didn't take her anytime to grind on me or to drag me out of the club or to push me up against that wall and kiss me like it was her job. But now? She hesitated getting out of the car. The lust in her eyes has faded and has been replaced with what looks like apprehension or nervousness. And even now, as we stand outside my door while I search for my fucking keys in my purse (which really shouldn't be this hard to find), she's behind me rocking back and forth on her heels nervously pulling at her tie and staring at the floor (which isn't really something to stare at unless you wanna look at the gas stain from where my dumbass neighbor Chris decided that he wanted to gas up his moped in the hallway without a damn funnel).
"Are you okay?" I ask, turning around once I find my keys. She looks up quickly and lets go of her tie.
"Ye…yeah. I…I'm fine," she stutters. Oh well isn't this just great? I had to pick the "I don't usually hook up on the first date" kind of girl.
"Are you sure?" It's not like I haven't dealt with nervous girls afraid of one stands or being with a girl for the first time and I have taken my share of virginities (guys and girls) but I feel obligated to ask. "Because you don't have to do this anymore if you're not comfortable. I can take you back to your dorm if you like," I suggest totally out of character and completely against my screaming body that is pleading with me to shut the fuck up.
"No. No, no. It's fine. I'm fine. Just a little nervous is all."
"Nervous about what?" Like I don't know. And why do I even care?
"Being with someone as gorgeous as you are," she says sweetly. Well shit. I did not see that coming. She must sense my trepidation (I need to stop talking with Rachel) because she grabs the sides of my face with both hands and taking a step forward, pulls me into a knee buckling, mind wiping kiss.
"Well what do we have here?" Oh fuck. I was so into the kiss that I didn't even notice that the door behind me had opened to reveal one of the biggest cockblocks in cockblocking history. Now I'm highly aware that I do not have a dick (despite what some might say) but the statement is more fun to use than twatblock so I'm using it. Regardless, it doesn't change that fact that because of the interruption, Alexa pulls away and lets go of my face. "Well hello there new girl," Luis says stepping from behind me and pushing me into the door frame. Stupid ass motherfucker.
"Hi," Alexa says looking at both him and me.
"Hey. I'm Luis." He extends his hand out and she shakes it firmly.
"I'm Alexa."
"Nice to meet you Alexa. I'm her,"
"Pain in the ass roommate who I was hoping would be at work for the night," I interrupt, trying to fill in the blanks.
"Well I was but it was a slow night and they didn't need me." He then redirects his attention back to Alexa. "So Alexa? How do you know my favorite lesbian here?" Oh Lord. "How old are you? What do you do?" he asks like a father interviewing his daughter's first boyfriend. Or girlfriend.
"Well we met at my job, I'm 19 and I'm a student at NYU," she says politely engaging him in conversation.
"NYU. Oh I went to Columbia. San here went there too until she droppe-"
"Okay!" I interrupt. "That's enough of that. No more meet-and-greet for you. Look Alexa, how about I take you home and we try this again some other time?" I ask, practically apologizing for my dumbass roommate's fucked up behavior.
"Are you sure? Because that sounds a lot like a second date and that would mean that you're assuming that I'll go out with you again," she teases like Luis isn't even there.
"So if I were to ask you out like you did me, you wouldn't want to go out with me again?"
"I didn't say that. I just didn't want you to be too presumptuous." I take a step closer to her and pull her towards me by her tie.
"When I look this good, I can't help but be presumptuous," I whisper in her ear before kissing just beneath it.
"You're lucky you're right."
"I'm always right. So let's get you back before it gets too late." I pull her into a quick kiss before pulling her back towards the elevator. "Later asshole!" I yell behind me.
"Bye Alexa!" he says in response, completely ignoring me.
"Nice to meet you," she waves.
"The pleasure was all mine," he says in his usual "I think you're hot" voice.
"Will you stop flirting with my girl while I'm still here?" I say as we enter the elevator.
"Your girl?" I hear him shout before the doors close.
"Your girl, huh?" Alexa asks from the other side of the elevator with crossed arms.
Oh fuck.
Did I really just say that?
"I didn't say that, did I?" I ask.
"Yup. You sure did," she practically sings. "But it's okay. You're cute when you wish for the best," she teases. Two can play this game.
"I'm not cute. I'm gorgeous, remember?" I tease with a wink. She pushes off the wall with her heel and saunters towards me. As she draws closer, I back up and wait for her to reach me on the other wall.
Wait.
Why am I letting her take control? Why am I letting her dominate me? I am Santana motherfucking Lopez. I'm dominant. Not her.
So I grab her by the shoulder as soon as she's close enough and turn her until her back is pressed up against the wall I was just leaning on. She lets out the sexiest high pitched yelp when her back hits the wall and I'm merely seconds from capturing any other sound she tries to make with my mouth when the elevator door opens and I hear a very feminine, very familiar gasp. I pull away and like the rest of my night, luck is not on my side.
"Santana."
Well shit.
"Hey Rachel."
Earlier…
3 hours. 3 hours straight of writing and making revisions but I'm finally done. The "Finding Lucy" script is completely finished and now all I have to do is get these revisions copied, handed out to the cast, read through, rehearsed and perfected and then we'll be ready to perform. Less than two weeks till opening night and we've got a long way to go.
"So how's the revisions coming Mr. Director?" Caroline asks as she and Gavin enter the apartment.
"First, it's Miss Director. Please kindly get my gender right," I correct. She just rolls her eyes and she and Gavin plop down on the couch. "Second, I am all done actually," I announce, picking up the one printed copy of the revised script and spinning in my computer chair to show them.
"Nice," Gavin exclaims a bit too animatedly but then again, it is Gavin.
"Yes it is," I agree, getting up from the chair, putting on my coat from the back of the chair and placing the script in one hand, grabbing my purse and slinging it over the opposite shoulder.
"Where are you going?" Caroline asks. "I thought we were watching a movie tonight after you finished the script."
"I'm going to drop this copy of the script to Santana," I reply like it's an everyday occurrence to drive nearly thirty minutes out of my way. After midnight. In New York City. To drop a stack of paper off to my ex-girlfriend/current sort of friend.
"Do you realize what time it is?" Gavin asks like I can't read a damn clock.
"Yes. I am very aware of what time it is."
"So you're going out? Now? To drop off a script? That is you could just give her in rehearsal tomorrow?" Caroline asks, crossing her arms.
"Well I want her to be able to look over the revisions before rehearsal tomorrow."
"Rachel, rehearsal is at 5 o'clock in the evening, Santana doesn't go to school and she's not working tomorrow night because of practice."
"Why do you know her schedule?" I question because even I, the director, don't know all my cast and crew's schedules. Especially if they're not in school.
"Well because I actually talk with her."
"I do talk with her," I argue.
"No. You talk to her or at her. And there's so much soiled history between you two that y'all can't have a normal conversation about what's going on with her nowadays."
"We have talked about that."
"When?" I open my mouth to answer but honestly, I don't have an answer. For the short time that I've known Santana this time around, all I know is that she sings at the Blue Mic, isn't in school anymore, has two roommates and likes to sleep around. A lot. But honestly, that's all I really know.
"Exactly. You spend so much time trying to forget the past that you don't pay attention to the present." Why are we having this conversation right now?
"Look, I don't have time for this right now," I dismiss her comment. "I need to get out, get over to her place and back before I get mugged."
"Do you want one of us to come with you or do you want the Sataness all to yourself?" Gavin asks and I swear he sounds more like Kurt than Kurt sometimes.
"No, I'm fine. I'm just going to go there, drop off the script, make small talk and come back. Nothing more. Nothing less."
"Nothing more?" Caroline asks, raising an eyebrow.
"Nothing more," I assure.
"One more question." I really don't have the time for this.
"What now?"
"Why are you hand delivering Lady Loin Killer the script and not doing the same for everyone else?"
"Why do you care?"
"Because clearly you do."
"Okay. Just let it go. I'm going to drop this script off at my friend Santana's place," I say putting emphasis on the word 'friend', "and then I'm coming home and you guys will say no more about it. Got it?"
"Got it," they say at the same time.
"Good. Now bye." And out the door I go.
####
As soon as I get in my car, it hits me. Friend. I called Santana my friend. Is it true? Have we reached the point now where I can consider her a friend again? I mean, we never were friends for that long before. We went from sworn enemies, to frenemies, to tolerable acquaintances to lovers to practically strangers. It was such a quick switch that friends never quite made it in there. But now? I guess if nothing else, I think I can call her friend. And I actually like the sound of it. Now I can only hope that she thinks of me as a friend as well and then maybe we can truly move past the past.
####
It takes me less than 30 minutes to get to Santana's apartment building (I asked Caroline to get her address one day and she was happy to ask Santana for it. And surprisingly, Santana gave it to her with no explanation needed. Weird.) Anyway, I find an empty parking spot in front of her building, grab the script from the passenger's seat and get out. From the looks of it, it's a pretty okay looking apartment building. For New York apartment buildings anyway. Although I was sort of expecting her to be living in a condo somewhere in TriBeca based on how much her father makes but I guess maybe dropping out of college didn't go over well with Papa Lopez.
I guess I spoke too soon when I saw the outside considering the inside in definitely a place I couldn't normally try to frequent. Chipped paint. Dirty floors. Water stains on the ceiling and on places I didn't think it was possible to get water stains. Or at least I hope they are water stains. Flickering lights and I swear I just saw a rat. Or a cockroach. Or a hybrid of the two. A cockrat? Or maybe a rat roach. Either way, Santana can't actually be living in a place like this. She has way too high standards in just about everything to live in a place like this.
Just when I about to press the elevator button to up to the apartment number that Caroline gave me, the elevator door opens. You know, then again, I have been known to be wrong before. I guess she does live her because there she is, leaning up against some girl (who looks vaguely familiar) very intimately like they were about to kiss.
"Santana," I gasp without even thinking. She takes a step back releasing her hold on the girl who, now that I get a good look at her, is the barista from Starbucks who gave Santana her number a few weeks ago. I guess Santana finally called her.
"Hey Rachel," she says, adjusting her clothes.
"Yes. Hey." She looks at me then at the girl, tilts her head out of the elevator, the girl nods and they both exit the elevator letting the doors close behind them. I'm expecting her to say something but of course, like the rest of my Santana expectations lately, that doesn't pan out and she just stands there awkwardly fidgeting with the strap on her purse (which looks oddly familiar). Looks like I need to take the reins on this one.
"Hi. I'm Rachel," I decide to introduce myself to the girl standing equally as awkwardly in front of me.
"Alexa," she replies, extending her hand out for me to shake. Now that she's looking at me and isn't in her Starbuck's uniform, I take notice to how pretty she is. Like really pretty and for some reason, this realization tightens my grip on her hand. She looks at me curiously at the sudden strength of my hand in hers but the look quickly turns into a smile as she shakes it and lets go.
"Pleased to me you," I say politely.
"Likewise," she replies. When again Santana says nothing, I figure I might as well do what I came here to do and leave before the situation gets more uncomfortable. Though I don't think that's possible at this point.
"So I'm sorry I interrupted but Santana," she finally looks me in the eyes, "I just come by to drop off the final revisions of the script." I hand her the stapled pile of papers and she takes it while raising an eyebrow.
"So you drove nearly 30 minutes? By yourself? In the middle of the night? To my crap ass apartment? To drop off revisions to the script that you could've easily given me tomorrow? In the day time? With the rest of the cast?" Why is that so shocking to people?
"Well, yes. You're my lead and I wanted to make sure you had the new parts down before rehearsal."
"So are you going to hand deliver everybody their scripts tonight so they have their parts down too for tomorrow's rehearsal?"
"Well no. I don't have that much ink. I'm probably just going to email them in the morning."
"So I'm the only one who gets this special treatment?" she smirks mischievously and damn if it isn't sexiest thing.
"Santana?" I forgot her date or whatever here.
"Yeah," Santana answers.
"It's pretty late and unless you want me crashing at your place, we probably should go," Alexa says taking Santana's hand and interlinking their fingers.
"As much as I would love to have you stay over," Why am I listening to this? "I would then have to try to get rid of my pet jackass so it's probably best if we just go. Rachel?" Oh. She talking to me now.
"Yes," I answer.
"I have to take her back before it gets too late so I'll see you tomorrow. And thanks for the script."
"No problem. See you tomorrow. Nice meeting you Alexa."
"Nice meeting you too Rachel." And I then watch them leave the building. Together. Holding hands. Together. Wait, I already said that. It must be really late if I'm repeating myself. I better get home before Caroline calls the police to look for my body.
So I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I had alotta fun writing it.
What to look forward to: more jealous!Rachel, more Santexa, some appearances by some other Glee characters in the future to stir things up and a chapter or two on "that summer".
Stay tuned and till then,
Jenae
Quick question: which Glee characters would you like to see make an appearance? I'd love to hear your thoughts and I just might take your suggestions so keep an eye out ;)