Chapter 17

In the mirror of the large guest bedroom, Rachel examined herself the next morning. She ran a hand over her face, taking in the dark bags under her eyes.

Last night was the most restless night she'd ever experienced. There was not a single second where she felt like she could drift off and end her suffering. Instead, she lay there, counting the numerous ceiling fan rotations.

Her emotional stability had taken a major tailspin after 3 o'clock this morning. She told herself that she was ready for anything, getting on that plane a couple of days ago. She was ready for the worst; the harder the blows, the more she'd be ready to strap on her armor. But this… She never knew that this was what she'd be walking into. Maybe if she did, she wouldn't have even considered buying the ticket.

No, she thought. She couldn't think that. If it wasn't for trying to be there for Finn, she also came back for herself. She wanted to finally put her foot down and her fears away. She wanted to end that gut-wrenching feeling that she woke up to everyday in New York. As awful as it may have sounded right now, his physical presence gave her a sense of comfort.

No way was she saying that she felt comfortable right now. If anything, she was feeling the exact opposite. She just felt more at bay knowing that he was in the next room, rather than in another state.

He'd just been in the other room last night. Gosh, she cringed when she thought of the events that took place within the past few hours. Now, at 7 in the morning, she stood in front of this mirror. With puffy eyes, a stuffy nose, and a damaged heart, she examined her projection.

She wondered if she was infectious. She'd been going over that for some time now. It seemed this way with how quickly he pushed her away this morning.

She didn't understand. The moment was perfect. They were finally back together; his hands were running down her back in the way they used to. The feeling of his lips against her skin sent shivers up her spine and she knew that hers did the same for him; they had to. So, why on Earth did he push her away?

That question was what truly broke her earlier this morning. She felt so vulnerable in that moment. She told him how she felt and she thought for just a split second that she'd gotten through to him. Then, he sent her out of the room like a dog with her tail between her legs. But it wasn't just that that really got to her.

It was what he said in those final moments that almost sent her to the point of self-destruction.

"I physically can't no matter how hard I try," his breaking voice ran through her ears.

He'd tried to hate her and that's the part she couldn't let go of. He said that he physically tried. He had every reason to, but that never meant that she was going to be okay with it. And, when he told her this last night, she wasn't.

This was what led her to believe that she didn't know what she was doing. Yes, she hopped on that plane ready for the biggest fight she'd have to put up for his heart. However, she never really took into consideration the terms and the conditions of it all. She knew it wouldn't be easy in the beginning. But this, she never anticipated feeling like a complete failure with his words.

His guard was up 100%. And she knew that he was using his own defensive tactics against her; tactics that included lashing out and reaching as low as he could to make her feel the same way that he was. He'd always done this for as long as she knew him. He pushed people away until there was no one left to push. The idea was only heightened now because Christopher was no longer here to stop him. He was on his own and she knew that was killing him, only causing him to become meaner than he was before.

As hard as it was to accept, she knew that she had to push further. Giving up was not an option.

Finn Hudson was the love of her life and the mere thought of losing him forever just because she didn't try was enough to kill her. They were meant to be and she'd let him see that. For as hard as he'd try to push her away, she'd make sure that he knew she was back for good. She made this decision hopping into her old shower down the hall.

She didn't want to wash the places where his lips had been from earlier this morning, but once she did, she oddly felt refreshed. It was as if all of the negativity from before could be erased for her to start anew.

Once she was out, she dried her hair and threw it up into a half ponytail. He was still asleep. She knew this walking back out into the hallway. His snores were the only thing that she could hear the entire trip back to the guest bedroom. She only smiled to herself, remembering how annoyed she used to get by it.

She decided that she would use this time to get her things together. There were so many other things that she wanted to do at the moment, like pushing his door open and lying next to him, taking in the rise and fall of his chest… But, she didn't think that she'd be able to cope with the backlash if he'd wake and catch her. Earlier's emotional blow was enough for one day.

Sitting on the wooden floor that she used to have countless séances on when Santana and Quinn were over, she looked at the large stack of clothes. Beginning with a blouse she found on the side of her, she folded and arranged it into the two opened suitcases. This would do one of two things; help her to become more organized after she threw everything in these bags yesterday. It would also allow her to clear her head for a bit. Taking her phone out from the back of her pocket, she dialed her friend's number.

"I was getting worried." The girl answered on the other end. Frustration seemed to be present in her voice. The crying radiating from the background seemed to be the answer. "You never called back last night."

"Is everything okay? It sounds like a tornado on your end." Rachel replied.

"Cleo's a little fussy this morning," Santana admitted. "But, no worries, at the moment her apple slices are being handed to her. Her oatmeal shouldn't be too much longer." Rachel laughed as Santana raised her voice in the one she usually used with her daughter. The crying died down and they were left to officially start the conversation.

"So, explain…" she started, instinctively knowing her friend didn't just call to check in. This was one of the many things she loved about her. With one sentence, she could pick up on her tone.

"I'm sorry, last night was just so crazy, Tana." She explained. "I didn't get a chance to check my phone."

"What did you do?" Santana blurted out, accusingly.

"Something did happen… But I'm scared to tell you because you're going to judge me."

"Well, where did you end up going last night? That's the first thing I want you to tell me."

"Home," Rachel admitted sheepishly. Before she could say anything, Rachel interrupted. "Before you say anything…" Santana interrupted her.

"Just spill already, Rachel."

"He lives there now." She slowly revealed.

"What?" Santana asked.

"I have no idea. He said something about house- swapping with Shelby. I didn't really pay much attention to detail. I was a little distracted with the fact that he was actually holding a conversation instead of yelling at me."

"And he didn't kick you out?" Santana wondered.

"I thought he would, but he offered up the guest room." Rachel was taken off-guard when Santana began laughing. Rachel only sighed.

"I just find it funny. I mean, he offered you the guest room in your own home." She continued to laugh.

"Well, my room wasn't up for consideration." She informed her friend.

"What do you mean?"

"He took his left foot and a hammer to it." She whispered.

"He trashed your room?" Santana asked, trying to gather as much as she could.

"Demolished would be the better choice in wording," she corrected her. "He said that I left him like trash so the least he could do was return the favor to my belongings."

"Ouch," Santana commented. "What did you do?"

"What do you think I did?"

"Honestly, I think you tried to reason with him and it ended badly, which is why you didn't call me last night."

Rachel only chuckled nonchalantly as she shoved another shirt in the suitcase, slamming it shut and pushing it away from her as hard as she could. Holding the phone tightly to her ear, she stressfully ran a hand through her hair as her face curled. Her throat was burning, but she kept herself together for her friend's sake. However, Santana was no fool.

"Rachel, you know that I know when you try and hide things from me." She scolded. "Spill," the girl instructed her like she was Cleo.

"I'm an idiot, Santana; a huge idiot." Crossing her arm over her legs, she put her head down and explained. "I thought that if I could just push a little harder, I'd hit that weak spot and then we could just work things out. We'd talk, maybe cry a little and then figure out where we stood. But, then last night happened… and I really think he's gone, Tana." "He doesn't even look at me the same and it's killing me."

"Rachel, you're going to have to tell me what happened last night. I don't understand." Santana pushed for more information.

"I couldn't sleep so I went into his room to see if he was still awake." She could only hear Santana's sigh of frustration begin.

"Please, tell me that you didn't. Rachel," she trailed off.

"I don't know how it started. One moment he was calling me a bitch and the next, I was on top of him."

"Rachel Barbra Berry, tell me right now that you did not…" her voice rose. "How could you do that? You told me that you were waiting for marriage."

"I didn't sleep with him," she calmed Santana down by replying. "We were fully clothed."

"Then, why are you crying?" Santana wondered, listening to Rachel's tone.

"Because, if he wouldn't have stopped us, I would've." She whispered. "Everything could've been last night and then he pushed me away like I was nothing more than a misbehaved dog."

"Have you learned nothing from me?" Santana lectured.

"What are you talking about?" Rachel asked.

"One night stands don't fix anything," she reminded her friend. "Sweetie, I am so sorry to hear that you're hurting, but I need to be your friend for a minute. You wouldn't have fixed anything last night. Sex would have only made things more complicated for the two of you. I mean, look at me. Don't get me wrong, Cleo is the best thing that has happened to me in my whole entire life, but do you honestly think that my life's mission was to get knocked up at 20 years old?"

Rachel only stayed silent, not being able to process what her friend was telling her. If sex would've been the result last night, she honestly believed that things would look up for them. Then again, she was pretty much desperate at this point for any type of communication with him; even if that included something she'd never done before and was completely terrified of. She definitely knew she was being stupid and naive in thinking this, maybe even a bit desperate. But who cared? She surely didn't; not in this moment. Her pride was withering away by each second that Finn wasn't in her arms.

"Tell me right now, Rachel. Honestly, tell me what you would do if you had actually slept with him last night? Let's say a couple of months from now you get pregnant. What are you going to do?"

"That would never happen," Rachel rolled her eyes. "You know that."

Santana ignored her. "With everything going on around him, with his father's death, with Shelby and James, and this Haley girl do you really think that things would get better?"

"I don't know, maybe…" she tried desperately to convince her. She knew it wasn't working. "Santana, I don't want to talk about this anymore."

"Because I told you what you didn't want to hear. You know I'm just looking out for you, Rachel," Santana promised her. "You're my best friend and I don't like to see you like this. You're stressing yourself out way more than you need to be."

"I think you need to come back home," Santana told her.

"That's not an option, Santana." Rachel swiftly replied.

"Think about it, Rachel. You're not doing anything for anyone. If anything, you're only making things worse." She pushed.

"You don't understand," Rachel fought. "I need him."

"You have no idea how much I understand, Rachel." Santana whispered through the phone. "Despite what you think, everyone's had a first love at some point that they've had to let go of."

"It's just different with us, San. He's my person." She had to get someone else to believe it even if he refused to. At this moment, she felt like she'd been hallucinating this all on her own.

"Just, promise me that you won't be stupid over there, Rachel. I can't exactly stop you in making decisions from another state. But, I will not let him destroy you more than he already has. Do things for yourself. Think of yourself. You're too important to be affected by some guy." Rachel could only laugh to herself. He wasn't just some guy.

She decided not to fight it. She only nodded," Thanks."

After placing her phone down, she climbed back onto the neatly made bed and stared at the fan's rotations once more. She sighed, thinking about the next few hours of the day. Finn wouldn't be asleep forever. When he would wake, he'd expect her to be out of the house, and as ironic as things may have seemed, she wouldn't have much of a choice. Anxiety built within her chest thinking about the lengths she'd soon be forced to go to in order find a place to sleep tonight.

She stayed there for a couple of moments; just lying and contemplating the decisions that the future would soon require her to make. It wasn't until the hands on the clock hit a minute past 8 that she decided to get up.

Once the two packed bags were aligned by the front door, she headed into the kitchen. The sound of the snores emerging from the stairs gave Rachel confidence that she had just enough time to proceed in doing what she was planning.

If anything good were to come from last night, it'd be the fact that he hadn't kicked her out on her ass, even when she knew his instincts were screaming at him to do just that. She wanted a way to show her gratitude for his hospitality. In her mind, cooking his favorite breakfast for him to wake up to would suffice.

She smiled, thinking of the first time she'd shown him her breakfast-making skills. She remembered watching him fall in love with the peanut butter and Nutella covered waffles; helplessly falling in love with him while watching him do so.

When the mix was finally spread onto the waffle iron, she stepped back and took in the smell of the kitchen. It reminded her of when she used to get up early on Saturday mornings. She was younger then; maybe with a stronger head on her shoulders and the entire world at an arm's length.

With everything going on in the present, she never really allowed herself to realize just how much she missed being here. No, not in her mother's constant loop of manipulation and deception. Her nostalgia ran more along the lines of her childhood home and all of the good memories that she once knew. Now, well…

She didn't want to go into that any more than she already had since she'd been here. So, she returned to the food in front of her. With a smile of satisfaction, she pulled out the perfectly crisp waffles and placed them on a glass plate. On her old island, she centered the plate of breakfast. Moving over to the refrigerator, she knew exactly what to grab. Milk was like crack for Finn in their high school times. With the half-emptiness of the carton, she knew that things hadn't really changed.

After a glass was poured and arranged next to the plate, she headed over to the pantry. It took some sifting through, but once she laid eyes on the jars of peanut butter and Nutella, she grabbed them. When she closed the door behind her, her breath caught in her throat and both jars fell to the floor, the peanut butter one smashing her toe in the process.

A tall figure only looked at her from a few feet away, with as much confusion as one person could muster.

She could instantly tell that Finn must have just crawled out of bed. Sleep swollen eyes were staring at her form, his hair looked like the wake of a vicious tornado, and his arms and cheeks presented imprints of the creases on his pillow. She had to push her hair back to distract from the heat growing in her cheeks.

Picking up the two plastic jars from the floor, she moved them over next to the food, adding a silver butter knife. Stepping back, she allowed him enough time to get a better observation before explaining.

"What are you doing?" he asked with a groggy tone looking at the setup of his kitchen. "What is all of this?"

"Before you freak out, I was just about to leave," she assured him to avoid any further out lashes. "I just wanted to thank you for letting me stay last night. I really appreciated it."

She smiled slightly, feeling the tension weigh down on her like a ton of bricks. Before it could become apparent that she was struggling to keep her neutral stance, she instantly collected herself and turned for her suitcases. Tears began to pool as she spoke, avoiding all eye contact. "Have a good day, Finn."

But, before she could move any further away an arm reached out and grabbed hers. She almost fell victim to whiplash, looking up at him with all of the surprise in the world. She didn't think he really realized the force of his grasp until he quickly dropped his hand.

"It's okay," she replied after he apologized for his unintentional assault.

"No, it's not," he replied with a harsh tone, shaking his head in a slow manner. "Last night… I was a real jerk."

"No, it's really fine, Finn. You're hurt and I understand that."

"You need to stop making excuses for me, Rachel. I've been up all night thinking about everything that happened and…" he struggled over his words. She could tell this much was true by the way he looked at the floor, his mind in desperate search for answers.

"And?" Rachel attempted to help him.

"And…" Reaching forward, his hands were on either side of her cheeks. It was when their lips met again that every previous feeling from within came flooding back to the surface. Using all of the force she could, she jumped upwards. With the comforting feeling of his strong arms holding her, she wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. It was as if time stood still as they paid no attention to their swift motions around the kitchen.

She physically couldn't do it. No other object in this entire house would be able to rip her attention from the man in front of her. She had no idea what came over him within the past hours, nor did she allow herself to question it. She wouldn't waste this fleeting moment, trying to comprehend his indecisiveness. Instead, she went with the flow. She ignored all previous thoughts circling through her mind. She ignored the past few hours crying in the guest room. She ignored all previous scolding and lecturing from her best friend over the phone moments before. In fact, all of Santana's words were in a pile next to Rachel's suitcases, all the way across the room. As her head fell back in pure bliss with kisses trailing slowly down her neck, she allowed him complete control. For the rest of the moment, Finn used his prior experience to guide the way.

With a motion she could have mistaken for lightening, he swept his arm across and cleared the island. The loud sound of glass shattering on the kitchen floor did nothing to their focus. Instead, he placed her on the counter, continuing to run his fingers through her wet hair.

Tugging roughly at the tight-fitted dark gray V-neck that hugged him perfectly, they both watched and giggled as it flew across the vicinity. This left his chest bare in front of her, increasing her amazement levels to dangerous heights.

Running her hands along the sculpted muscles just below his chest, he stood before her, completely winded, watching her with all of the lust in the world. If her money were to be placed on this bet, she'd say that he wanted it more than she had. This was a huge bet.

"You like what you see?" he asked, breathing heavily staring at her lips. She was completely embarrassed when he made it obvious that her blush was visible. He hadn't given her enough time to reply. All she could do was giggle as his lips met hers again.

This time, as his lips trailed back down the side of her neck, she slowly helped her out of the sweater she was sporting. She only smirked, knowing that she excited him even more when his eyes met the black laced bra that Santana helped her pick out in New York. With her new look, came a new wardrobe. She knew he wasn't used to it either, which made it all the more amusing.

"I'm going to tell you one thing, Berry. If you are wearing a pair of underpants to match that bra, I don't think even a thousand men will be able to hold me back." This gave her an idea. Never, in her whole entire life had she felt this sexy. She figured she'd get the best out of it.

Pushing him further away, she jumped down from the island and began to seductively parade in front of him. Walking toward the exit of the kitchen, she slowly dropped the jeans that were snuggly fitted around her waist. Twirling them around with her hand, she laughed when he took a step or two back in astonishment. Tossing them in his direction, she winked and spoke.

"Then I guess you're in big trouble, Hudson."

With that, her loud fits of laughter erupted through her childhood home when Finn started forward in her direction. Rushing up the stairs as fast as she possibly could, she headed toward the nearest escape she could find; Finn's new room. Yes, it was awkward to be back in her mother's room where she messed with James and actually slept… But, it was closer than the guest room.

However, the physical skills and speed acquired from all of the workouts he'd been doing were highly underrated in Rachel's eyes. When his hand met the door before Rachel could shut it and tease him more, she knew she didn't stand a chance in the world.

Slowly, he towered over her as she backed up slowly. The dark smirk that plastered over his features caused her to want nothing more than to get straight to the point. With all of Santana's earlier words already out the window, she decided. She didn't care if she was being irrational and the exact equivalent to a stupid, love-blinded bitch. She was ready now, and no source of self-control would be enough to hold her back.

The way they played around right now made her feel nothing but pure bliss. Hope and relief flooded to her the moment their lips met once more. She knew they had a lot to get through. Years of recovery and maybe even some therapy would be helpful. But, the way that they were now, it felt so familiar to her despite being in a completely unfamiliar situation. They were here, doing this right now, when she never even allowed him to get past second base when they were actually dating.

Maybe it was because she'd matured a lot since the time she'd last been in any kind of intimate situation with him. In the pure belief that was waiting until marriage to give it up, there had been a few tweaks to her brain along the way. She'd seen a lot more in New York than she ever had here. She'd received a full taste of the twenty-first century. After a lot of consideration, she had finally come to accept the fact that waiting until marriage seemed like nothing more than too high of an expectation; Especially since she was given the chance to be in this moment right now with Finn- a moment which, after earlier this morning- she'd lost all hope for anytime soon.

Her face hurt as she continued to laugh, hysterically. Hopping onto the bed, she jumped to another side of the room in a desperate attempt to escape him. He only remained calm with that same dangerous smirk over his face. This only made the game all the more fun.

Finally, out of nowhere, he launched forward and wrapped his arms around her from behind. Tripping, they both ended up on the floor, with Finn hovering over her. He smiled down at her, pushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"Did you really think I'd let you get away?" he whispered in a sultry manner.

"Have you ever thought of the possibility that I let you win?" Rachel asked, returning his tone. She could play the game just as well as he could, and he knew this. He wouldn't be smiling the way he was if he didn't. "Maybe I was sick of playing games."

"I am too, Rachel," he replied, his tone a little more serious than before. Rachel knew instantly that he was using this as a ticket to imply something much more personal to them. With all of the pain they'd been through over these past four years, she would make sure that he knew that she was too.

"I'm ready," she smiled encouragingly, moving a hand over his messy hair, caressing his cheek with that same hand. Her breath was shakier than it had ever been. And, it was understandable, because she was scared out of her mind. But, when Finn's face lit up in understanding of what she was actually saying, a feeling of calm enveloped her.

"Wait, Rachel, you never-" he stuttered. "Are you saying that I'm your-" Nervous was very sexy on him in this moment.

"You are the only guy that I've ever been able to bring myself to truly love. Any other person in New York never stood a chance. So, yes, I'm still a virgin."

"Rachel…" "You said you wanted to wait until marriage. The only reason I was doing this was because I thought you weren't…" he trailed off. "I can't take that away from you."

"You're not taking anything away from me, Finn." She assured him, sitting up to face him. "I have waited for this for four entire years without any real certainty that we'd actually be here. But, we are right now, Finn… and I don't want to risk anything anymore. Like I said, I'm tired of playing games."

"I just don't want to be the reason you do something that you'll regret in the future," he pushed.

"Leaving is something that I regret. You; Finn, you're the best decision I've ever made in my whole entire life."

Her heart did somersaults when the emotion showed through those dark amber eyes that looked back at her. His endearing smile almost sent her over the edge. "Are you sure?" he checked one last time.

"Just promise that you'll be really careful and gentle with me," she pleased.

"I promise," he replied. So much assurance stood behind his statement that she knew she would be perfectly safe in his arms for the rest of her life. And, as he rested a soft hand against her back, lifting her from the wooden floor beneath them and meeting her lips with his, she knew that she would be.

"Rachel," his voice called out before they could even begin.

"What?" she asked, worried that something was wrong.

"Rachel," he called out again.

"Finn, what is it?"

"Rachel," she was becoming annoyed but wouldn't let it show; not in this moment. However, as he looked at her, she felt as if she were being shaken. When more force was applied, the image before her disappeared.

Opening her eyes, the same view of the ceiling fan was what her eyes took in. It took a moment for realization to sink in, but once it did, she bolted forward only to find him standing before the bed.

"You must have been sleeping really hard," he admitted. With his hands in the pockets of his business suit, he took a quick scope of his surroundings. She didn't miss the way his face lit up in relief when he took in the two suitcases packed in the corner of the room. "It's 5 in the afternoon."

Her heart instantly dropped, bringing her hands up to rub her eyes. When had she fallen asleep? Maybe it was around the same time she was watching the fan move earlier this morning.

"It was just a dream. I can't believe that it was only a dream," she felt totally crushed in admitting this to herself. It had been a moment clear as day with a better version than the Finn standing before her with a stern look on his face. Her mind manipulated her into seeing a side to Finn that hadn't existed in a long time; at least not to her, anyways. She felt betrayed, which was stupid. She knew that. It's just that all hope that was regained in those few hours of sleep she'd gotten was completely unreal. Back to square one it was, she thought.

She looked to the man who only watched her with confusion as to what she just mumbled to herself. No emotion that she'd previously seen in the other version of him could be spotted. He only rolled his eyes then, heading toward the door. Stopping, he turned to face her one last time.

"I'm having a dinner guest over for 7. I'm going to ask you to be gone before then."

Rising from her sitting position, she stood in front of him. Crossing her arms over her chest, she took in his appearance. Maybe it wasn't a business suit after all…

"Haley?" she wondered. The moment the girl's name left her lips, she could've sworn all color from Finn's face fled. Instantly, he gathered himself, straightening out the jacket of his suit. He coughed to clear his throat before slowly nodding his head.

"She introduced herself at the funeral," Rachel offered as an explanation how she'd met his fiancé before he'd had the chance to flaunt the girl in her face. Trust Rachel, it hurt all the same.

"She's beautiful," Rachel complimented. "And, really nice; I'm happy for you."

Instantly, he began to shake his head. "No; we're not going to do this. We're not having this discussion."

Nodding in understanding that she upset him, she moved to her suitcases and prepared to move them down the stairs. She expected him to leave the room. But, he didn't. Instead, he stood there and watched her struggle. She knew that somewhere deep down inside of him he was probably enjoying it.

Finally, he couldn't take it anymore and helped her to transport the large objects downstairs.

She didn't have time for waffles with peanut butter and Nutella, so she knew that a simple farewell would have to do for now.

"A little hint of advice?" she began.

"Nothing's ever stopped you before," he said with annoyance, waving her to continue.

"Blue isn't you color," she said, pointing to his tie. "Try grey; it makes your eyes pop."

"I think I'm fine, but thank you," he smiled with sarcasm, moving to open the door for her.

Stopping right before him, she looked up. "Thank you for letting me stay last night, Finn. I really appreciate it." He only looked at anything that wasn't her.

"Well, wouldn't want to over-stay your welcome, now would you?" She ignored his insult.

"I think I'm going to try and head over to my mom's." she was telling herself more than Finn.

"What?" he asked with disbelief.

"Maybe if I let her tell me that she told me so, she might let me stay with them for a while…" she smiled, looking at the floor as she rolled the two suitcases forward.

"Here's a suggestion, Rachel." He started. "Just go home."

"I am home," she corrected him.

"I meant New York," he replied. "You should just go back to New York."

"No," she told him with all of the strength her chest could provide her with. "I'm not just some girl from the CD store that you can just blow off, Finn. I won't give up that easy. You know that."

"Well, you're wasting your time then," he bit out before slamming the door in her face.

She took a moment to recover from the cruelty. She knew that he was only lashing out because this morning had been just as bad for him as it had been for her. Still, that didn't mean she wasn't frustrated. Feeling the anger build up in her chest, she dropped both bags onto the cement of the driveway in the front of the house. She felt like a child, letting out a loud exasperated scream.

"You know that you can't push me away forever!" She exclaimed. "You're my person." She sniffed, feeling her chest tighten again. She wiped the tears away, grabbing her things and heading in the opposite direction. When she got onto the subdivision road, she realized she had the attention of one of her older neighbors, Ms. Woods. She only smiled, politely waving to the woman.

By the time the taxi showed up, she decided she couldn't handle the impending visit with her mother on a sober status. She couldn't handle any of this on a sober status. That explained where she was at the moment. With both of the suitcases in her hands, she looked up at a sign to the place she hadn't walked into since she was about 17 years old. Mickey's.

She'd never been so excited to see something in her life, walking through the familiar glass door. Immediately, she walked past the large sign that said "18 and older only". She smiled, remembering how they were forbidden to cross that line when they'd come over on the weekends. She also remembered the disappointed that also brought to her and her two friends. Quinn would always point out the hottest guys on the other side of that sign.

As if she owned the place, she tossed the two suitcases in front of her and slouched in the first empty bar stool she could find. On cue, the only attending bartender turned to get her order. The moment she took that first sip of her vodka cranberry, she felt her nerves begin to slowly settle. She stayed this way for some time, taking in the distant sound of the jukebox.

"Mind if I sit?" a voice pulled her out of the relaxed state. Turning around, a man was standing with a glass of dark amber liquid in his hands, smirking.

If she had to guess, he seemed to be about the same age as she was. He looked fancy; there was no doubt about it. Business fancy, she assumed. The black suit sculpted the figure he was hiding underneath, the excessive amount of hair gel pulled back his light brown locks, and his grey-blue eyes stared over her figure.

He was also very drunk.

"I don't see any reservation signs. Go right ahead," Rachel replied, sipping her drink and returning to her own mind. However, this process was once again interrupted when the man spoke again.

"Day-drinking, I presume?" he was now facing her.

"More like week-drinking," she scoffed, rubbing her face.

"You look like you've been crying for a while. Let me guess, broken heart?" He knew he was overstepping his boundaries, which aggravated Rachel even more.

"Well, according to popular belief, you actually have to have a heart to get it broken." She sighed, taking a deep breath to distract herself from crying in front of this stranger. "I don't have one."

"But, I'm sure you're not here to talk about my love life."

"You caught me," he admitted with a nervous, sluggish chuckle. "I actually watched you walk in."

"Stalker much?" Rachel asked, raising her hand to the woman for another drink.

"No," he instantly snapped as if someone had already referred to him as that before. It didn't surprise her. The mysterious and dangerous vibes she was getting from him right now convinced her of nothing more. "I'm just infatuated."

"What did it for you? My crazy hair, or the nomadic state that these two suitcases give off?"

"Your sarcasm," He instantly replied. "I mean, when you walked in you were potentially nothing more than a hot piece of ass and may or may not have reminded me of some of my regulars at the strip joint downtown… But, your sarcasm just adds to everything. I want you."

"I bet your blatant honesty gets you into a lot of beds," Rachel replied, just as blunt as the man was when he spoke.

"You'd be surprised," he smirked, holding up his drink. "Excuse me," he called to the bartender who'd just handed Rachel her new drink.

"Can I help you, Mr. St. James?" the auburn haired woman asked.

"Yes, Harper." He smiled, glancing back over to Rachel. "I'm going to ask you to put all of Ms. Berry's drinks on my tab today."

"What?" Rachel asked. Shaking her head, she looked between the two. "No, you really don't-" Before she could do anything, he waved the woman off to follow his orders. She didn't know what she was more confused about. Was he really that desperate to cover drinks for a girl he'd only known for a few moments? Last, how the hell did he know her name?

Trying to calm herself of the panic rising in her chest, she replied the only way she knew how. Sarcasm.

"You know, are you sure about earlier? I'm sensing some serious stalking vibes."

"It's not nice to call people names," he smirked, in a joking manner.

"Just tell me how you know mine and I'll stop."

"Well, you're pretty famous around here." He smiled, leaning closer.

Putting her hand up to create her own distance, she dropped the joking act. "What are you talking about?"

"Haley's just a little dime, isn't she? I bet that gets so far down underneath your skin; especially since that's supposed to you."

"Okay," Rachel replied, disgusted. Keeping her hand out, she rose to her feet. Grabbing her suitcases, she stopped when he stood in front of her. "It was a nice little chat that we had. But, you're clearly drunk."

"Oh come on," he smirked, grabbing her arm. The grip shocked Rachel so much that she dropped one of her suitcases on her foot. "OW!" she exclaimed. "What are you doing? Let go of me!"

"I paid for your drinks, Rachel. The least you could do is give me a little smooch for later." He replied under his breath. The only other person in the bar was the bartender, and she'd seemed to disappear in the alcohol storage room. She was probably checking her phone if Rachel had to guess. The man took advantage of this. Getting behind her, he moved her hair back. "Like I said before, I want you. And I always get what I want..." His voice sounded like nails against a chalkboard in her ear.

"You're hurting me," she pleaded. "I don't even know you, crazy. Let me go right now or else…" she threatened the best she could.

"Or else what?" she smirked, tightening his grip.

"Let her go," another male voice erupted from the other side of the room. Looking to the side, Rachel took in the presence of a man she'd never seen before. She was sure she'd seen those hazel eyes before, but the dark brown hair threw her off.

He was beautiful. He seemed to be around her age, or maybe a little older. However, she couldn't think like that right now. The situation at hand was a little too distracting. As he spoke, the man's grip only tightened around her. She knew then that she should've seen the warning signs the moment he snapped at her when she called him a stalker.

"Jamey Halstead," the man greeted with disgust. "I kind of knew if anyone would be here right now, it'd be you." He chuckled. "Let me guess, coming to drink off that divorce?"

"Look at you, Jesse…" he laughed, walking closer to the two of them. "And you honestly thought Shelby would give you a chance to govern this town?"

"Let the girl go," he repeated, now firmly. Placing his hand over the one that was gripping her arm, she watched the two make intense eye contact. "You remember what happened the last time you had my sister like this, right?"

Rachel let out a sigh of relief when Jesse released his hold on her. Instantly, she rubbed the red mark she now had on her arms. Watching, Jesse held his hands up in defense, slowly backing out of the area. "Anything for a part of the royal family, Halstead."

It clicked when Jesse spoke for the last time. Halstead. The familiar hazel eyes could now be pictured in Rachel's mind, on Haley. He must've been her brother or something.

She was left standing there for a moment and then Jesse was gone, causing Jamey to walk in her direction. "Are you okay?" he asked. She only nodded, shyly.

Taking her arm in his hand, he looked over the red mark. He only sighed and shook his head. "He could get himself killed with some of the stuff that he does."

"Who was that?" she wondered.

"Jesse St. Jackass," he joked, looking down at her. He was no more than a few inches shorter than Finn. She laughed at his joke.

"You've got that right."

"You're a lot prettier than Haley described you," he complimented her. It took her off guard, but she wasn't appalled by it. His smile was nowhere near the sarcastic nature that Jesse's held which made her feel a little more comfortable. His intentions gave no other impression than innocent.

"Thank you," she chuckled, not knowing what else to say. The moment grew a little awkward. She couldn't tell if he was flirting with her or just flattering her to make her feel better about herself.

"And, I'm allowed to say that because I've already had a marriage end on me. So, what do I really have to lose, right?" Definitely flirting, Rachel thought.

He seemed very nice and there was no doubt that she was attracted to him. Hell, with the way he defended her, she'd go out with him in a heartbeat if the circumstances were different. However, she was still standing her ground.

There was still Finn. There was still that reason that she hopped on a plane and blew all of her savings. There was still that gut-wrenching feeling she had when she never woke up next to him like she wanted to. There was still the promise that that dream presented to her today.

How would she look to Finn if she came back after all of this time just to date another guy? She'd never gain his forgiveness. That was for sure.

She still didn't want to be rude to the man either. So, she only laughed as his comic attempts to be smooth. "You're Jamey, right?"

"That is correct," he answered with a big smile on his face. "And, by how much my sister talks, I'm assuming you're Rachel?"

"Correct," she smiled, mimicking him.

"Well, Rachel, what do you say I buy you a drink?" he asked, waving to Harper who had mysteriously emerged back out behind the bar. She smiled, putting down the wiping cloth, moving over to the two.

"I'm going to pass," she admitted, hesitantly. She felt terrible when the disappointment spread across his beautiful face. It was just the principles she already had set that were holding her back. "I don't really think that good things come out of accepting drinks from strangers."

"Well, that sucks." He admitted. "Now, I don't have an excuse to get you to stay and not be a stranger to me. You'd actually be very surprised by the things you could get out of me with a little assistance from alcohol. By the end of the day, you'd practically know everything about me. Just ask this one over here," he laughed, pointing to Harper. She only laughed and shook her head.

"Very comical," the girl smiled in his direction, only shaking her head when he looked away. She knew that he picked up on this when she saw his face.

"She's just jealous. She's a party pooper," He smirked as Harper playfully elbowed him in the shoulder. "What do you say, Rachel? Please, join us for the afternoon. You won't regret it." He only made things worse when he saw the laughter seeping through her tomato red face. He made faces until she finally let it out.

Rachel was amused by his sense of humor. For the first time in a long while, she felt the laughter ache in her stomach. He was making a complete idiot out of himself in front of her, and it was okay. For the first time in forever, someone didn't put so much effort into trying to impress her with skills, money, or biceps. He didn't try and hide his real personality. He allowed others to see who he truly was and he was careless. It was this ideal that led her to make her next decision.

"How can I refuse?"

"You're brave," Harper chuckled, looking to the two.

"Jealousy at its finest, people," Jamey added, clapping to himself. He chuckled, becoming serious as he turned to her again. "Now, we may have just met. But, I'm choosing to trust you. If you hear any old school hip hop coming from my mouth, you need to help me out of the premises as quickly as possible. No good things come from a drunken me once I start singing those songs."

"Are you really planning on getting drunk in the middle of the day?" Rachel asked with an incredulous expression.

"Life's about the now, right?" he asked. "Besides, it's the weekend. I don't have to be anywhere important until Monday morning. I might as well amuse you with my stupidity while I have the chance."

"You surely aren't failing yet."

"Well, then what will it be for the two of you?" Harper asked.

"I'll be having a few shots of vodka and for the young lady on the side of me?"

"I've got to stay sober for this." She stated.

"Then, that'll be one coke for the pretty lady," her heart dropped when he winked at her. She was still weighing out thoughts in her mind. Finn was still one of those thoughts.

"I'm going to toast this to new people and new beginnings." Rachel smiled as Jamey spoke, clinking her cup against his small shot glass. "Rachel Berry, congratulations, you have officially met me and your life will be so much better now that you have!" he exclaimed.

"Cheers to that," she laughed. "Bottoms up!" He wasted no time.

It was in that moment that all negative aspects from the past twenty-four hours were completely forgotten. Everything went out the window that day, including her tears from the previous night, her fears for the future... She chose to live in the now; however long that may be.

I'm so sorry for being MIA for so long. I've just been so busy with school work and my after-school job. I've literally gotten no breaks to actually sit down and write this. I really hope this chapter makes up for things! :)