Disclaimer: I do not own The Main Event.
Author's Note: I would like to mention many, many thanks to those who reviewed. You guys keep me going. You all are really the reason Jesse stays sexy and Rachel keeps being adorable. Thank you so much.
This chapter features a nice little evolution in the Rachel-Jesse interaction. It's always good to see progress. Though the chapter is pretty short, I still hope you guys enjoy it.
Just a heads up: This chapter gets a little... steamy... to put it lightly. So, be forewarned of language and sexy situations.
And let's see if you guys can point out the Barbra Streisand reference!
Enjoy and don't forget to review.
"This cannot be happening to me," Rachel thought to herself stiffly.
She was drenched in beer and her pride was hurt... to top it all off, Jesse St. James was resting comfortably in the seat beside her.
Lady Luck was really laughing her ass off at the poor brunette right now.
Rachel sat up right, hands clasped primly in her lap as she focused on keeping her cool.
Twiddling her thumbs, she kept looking over to him. His eyes remained shut as he maintained his position.
She sighed softly, tearing her eyes off of him.
The mysterious senior turned to look at her. His eyes drifted to her drenched body.
Feeling someone's stare on her, the young sophomore slowly looked back over to meet with her couch buddy's gaze. She felt her breath hitch in her chest as an unspoken question flashed in his eyes. He glanced once more to her soaked shirt.
His intense gaze made her feel stripped down to her underwear (flowered underwear she now regretted terribly). Rachel felt her cheeks heat up. She was somewhat thankful for the darkness of the atmosphere, so he wouldn't be able to see how much she wanted to kill herself in that moment.
The silence between them was really getting to her, so she burst out with the first thing that came to mind.
"I'm not a raging alcoholic."
Watching him arch an eyebrow, Rachel had no idea why she went and said that of all things. She mentally slapped herself. There was nothing she could say to salvage the situation... so, she just barrelled on, thinking that that was the wisest choice to make for the time being.
"The waitress, I mean. She got me all wet..." her eyes widened slightly, not wanting him to think she was a random ho trying to entice him with her innuendos, "... and NO! 'All wet' in a strictly non-sexual way, of course!" she continued quickly before deciding to shut up. Most probably the best choice she had made the entire night, in her opinion.
He seemed distracted by the cellphone in his hand as it kept blinking and vibrating, so he kept turning to see what it was. Irritation seemed to surface on his features as he read what looked to be text after text after text. Yes, Rachel was observant. And she wasn't necessarily proud of it.
So, they sat there in silence. She kept mentally abusing herself, enraged by the fact that the first thing she had said to him her entire life was about alcohol and sex.
Bravo, Rachel. Bravo.
"It doesn't seem like the end of the week," his deep voice suddenly broke into her thoughts.
Holy God.
"Well... it's actually a Thursday," she answered carefully as she looked over to him once more. He furrowed his brow lightly as his hazel eyes met hers again.
Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod...
"Yesterday was Wednesday... and tomorrow's Friday... I know tomorrow's Friday because I have a Chemistry test that I should be studying for... tomorrow," oh dear God, she couldn't stop. "And yesterday was Wednesday because we tend to drag rehearsals out a little longer than usual during the middle of the week..." her voice trailed off.
Jesse stared at her, a ghost of a smirk playing on his lips.
Silence.
"So... that's how I know," she added lamely, forcing herself to look away from his amused/confused/surprised expression.
If she could just round up all those retarded sentences of hers, she would beat herself to death with it.
Jesse turned to his cell phone, snapping it shut. Seemed that he was ignoring an incoming call. He leaned back in his seat and went back to shutting his eyes, this time in exasperation.
Rachel silently began to study his features (after all, when would she have the opportunnity to observe him this up-close again, right?). His full lips, his defined cheekbones, the cleft in his chin, his strong jaw, his soft, wavy almost-bronze hair...
"Jesse, we've been calling you all night, man!" came a harsh voice, snapping Rachel out of her reverie as it caused her object of observance to open his eyes.
They both turned to look at a young boy (younger than both of them), fidgeting nervously with the zipper of his jacket as he stared at Jesse.
"Really? I didn't get that throughout the nine-hundred-fucking-thirteen messages you people left me while I was on stage," the senior answered coolly, though one could clearly sense the dangerous edge in his voice.
The boy hesitated before responding. "S-s-sorry, Jesse... it's just... the eggs are in the car and..."
"Come on," Jesse muttered indifferently, obviously trying to put the guy out of his misery. He got up from his seat. The boy nodded vigorously before hurrying off.
Eggs? What? Is he in a baking class or something?
Rachel heard him mutter something along the lines of "fucking pointless" as he brushed past her. Frowning curiously, she watched him go.
He looked over his shoulder at the last second, sending her a brief smile.
Rachel blinked. Did she just imagine that? Before she could respond, he had already disappeared off.
The brunette didn't know how long she sat at that couch as she ran through her thoughts frantically. Did she just have an actual conversation (okay, not really) with Jesse St. James? Before she delved further into the psychoanalysis of her encounter, Peyton came up to her.
"Rachel... are you entering our wet T-shirt contest? Because we usually have that during spring break..."
Rachel looked down to her seemingly see-through white shirt as it stuck to her skin.
Definitely should have rethought the flowered underwear.
"Kiss me," Rachel murmured.
"Is that an order?"
"Yes."
His smirk broadened to a grin as he leaned in to capture her lips with his.
Moaning happily into the kiss, Rachel allowed him to push her back onto the pillow, never breaking their liplock.
He traced his tongue along her bottom lip teasingly before pulling back to look at her face.
"I've always wanted to say that," she breathed, running a hand through his wavy brown hair.
"You've always been this demanding?" his hot breath hit her neck before her eyes glazed over at the feel of his supple lips against her skin.
"Mm-hmm," unable to form a coherent sentence, Rachel bit her bottom lip as she let out a shaky breath from the contact.
His kisses were long and languid before he pulled back once more to look into her eyes.
"I like it," he smirked before crashing his lips down on hers, igniting a fantastically fiery passion within her.
"Ohh... Jesse..." she sighed in between intakes of breath as their tongues explored each other's mouths, stumbling upon sweet, heavenly discoveries of their own.
"That's it, baby... say it," he panted, nipping and biting at her tender flesh, stimulating more and more noises from her beautiful lips.
"Jesse, I want to sing with you," Rachel managed to utter, her fingers entangled within his soft hair.
They paused.
He looked at her.
"Let's do it then. Right now," he smiled.
Rachel giggled.
"No, I meant for an audience," she shook her head.
"Precisely."
Rachel furrowed her brow from her position underneath his body.
"Oh my God! What a slut and a half!" came a familiar shriek out of nowhere from the distance.
Rachel's head snapped to the side, only to find a full auditorium staring right at her and Jesse's current predicament.
Quinn was on her feet, pointing to them. Apparently, she was the one who had burst out with the 'slut' comment.
And that single comment had triggered the rest of the audience's reaction as they roared to life, pointing and jeered at her.
Rachel sat upright in panic as a fully-clothed Jesse shifted to allow her some space.
"HONK! HONK!" what seemed to be the entire football team let out a raucous laughter while squeezing the air in front of them suggestively.
Looking down, Rachel saw that she was as stark-naked as the day she was born.
Jesse stared at her body in cool approval.
As the deafening laughter from the entire auditorium rang through her, the brunette felt the tears well up in her eyes.
Yanking the blankets, she covered herself up before letting out an ear-splitting scream...
And she was still screaming as she sat up in her bed, realizing it was all a dream.
Panting, she looked around, making sure it was really her room.
Pawing at her body, she checked to see if she still had on her cotton candy PJs.
"Holy shit," she breathed out, her chest heaving as she fell back onto her pillows.
It had been days since the somewhat embarrassing run-in with Jesse at the showcase and this was honestly the first time she had encountered such a dream in her (admittedly) overactive imagination.
She seriously needed to get her mind off of all this nonsense.
Rachel remembered what her father had suggested just a few weeks ago.
"Just try it. Get a change of scenery," he had handed her a flyer, she recalled.
"That's exactly what I'm going to do," she mumbled to herself, rolling out of bed with seeming purpose.
Little did she know, fate always seems to catch up to those who run from it.
Who would've guessed that fate came in the form of a sexy Carmel High stranger she has barely said ten sentences to her whole life?