I know you have been waiting for the update, so here you go! Enjoy!
Mercedes sat at her desk, barely glancing up as Sam entered her office. She was focused on the screen before her, scrolling through schedules and booking confirmations for his upcoming press run.
Motioning for him to sit, Mercedes took a deep breath before speaking. "Alright, Sam. Over the next few weeks, we'll be lining up photo shoots, local radio spots, and a few live Q & A. Then, in two weeks, you kick off your book tour."
Sam nodded, sliding into the chair across from her. "Sounds good. Who's coming with me?"
Mercedes finally met his gaze, her expression unreadable. "Sorry to burst your bubble, but Quinn isn't coming. She doesn't do book tours."
Sam frowned, leaning back in his chair. "Why would I care about that?"
Mercedes laughed humorlessly, shaking her head as she gathered a few papers into a neat stack. "Right, why would you care?"
Sam's eyes narrowed. "Mercedes, this isn't about Quinn. She doesn't…we aren't…"
She scoffed, standing from her desk and grabbing a folder. "I don't have time for this," she muttered, walking toward the door.
But before she could open it, Sam was there—slamming it shut behind her with one hand and caging her in against the door with both palms on either side of her head.
Mercedes froze. "Sam," she warned, voice low, heart pounding.
His green eyes blazed with frustration. "You need to stop acting like a jealous ex-girlfriend."
Her mouth parted in shock before her anger flared to life. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me," Sam growled. "I don't know what's going on in that head of yours, but if you think I give a damn about Quinn, you're out of your mind."
Mercedes bristled, glaring up at him. "Oh really? Because from where I'm standing, it sure looks like you do."
"You don't know what you're talking about," he shot back, his breath warm against her skin.
Mercedes clenched her fists. "You kissed her, Sam. Outside your damn door! What, am I supposed to pretend I didn't see that?"
Sam's jaw tensed, his fingers curling into the doorframe. "Yeah, I made a mistake, and I can admit that. But can you?"
"Me?" Mercedes asked, confused.
"Yes. When I kissed you, you kissed me back. But then you kicked me out. What the hell was that, Mercedes?"
Mercedes pushed against his chest, but he didn't budge. "That was me realizing that we can't do this! Sam, I can't get caught up in all this."
"Why not?" His voice dropped, low and desperate. "Because of Quinn? Because of work? Because you don't want me?"
She opened her mouth to speak—but nothing came out.
Sam leaned in, his lips just inches from hers. His eyes searched hers, looking for anything that told him she didn't want this as much as he did. But all he saw was conflict, fire, and something deep she refused to say out loud.
"Tell me you don't want me," he whispered, his voice raw. "Tell me that this connection means nothing."
Mercedes' breath hitched.
Sam's fingers brushed against her jaw, slow, teasing, hesitant. She could feel the heat rolling off of him, his body so close, too close.
"Tell me, and I'll walk away," he murmured, his lips barely grazing hers now. "But if you can admit that you want me…as much as I want you." He hissed.
Mercedes snapped.
With a frustrated growl, she grabbed his blazer and pulled him down into a fierce, desperate kiss.
Sam groaned against her mouth, pressing her back against the door as his hands finally moved—one gripping her waist, the other sliding into her curls. He kissed her like he'd been holding back for weeks like he was starving for her.
Mercedes kissed him back just as hard. There was no hesitation now. No second-guessing.
Her hands gripped his shirt, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. His fingers dug into her hips, molding her against him like he was trying to make sure she didn't slip away this time.
The world outside the office didn't exist.
Only this. Only them.
But then—a sharp knock on the door.
They jerked apart, breathing heavily.
Quinn's voice, sickly sweet and unwelcome, drifted through the door.
"Sam? Are you still in there?"
Mercedes felt the crash back to reality hit like a slap.
She pulled away completely, her chest rising and falling as she refused to meet Sam's gaze.
Sam clenched his jaw, still breathless and staring at her like she'd just rewritten his entire existence.
Another knock.
Mercedes swallowed hard and straightened her blazer, her expression going blank.
"Go," she whispered.
Sam didn't move. "No, don't pull away again. This ends now."
"Sam, I do want you," she said more firmly, stepping away from the door. "But you need to really think about what you want."
With one last look, his lips swollen from their kiss, his body still thrumming with the need to pull her back in, he opened the door.
Quinn stood there, perfectly put together as always, her eyes darting from Sam to Mercedes and back again.
"Everything okay?" she asked, feigning concern.
Sam exhaled sharply, glancing at Mercedes one last time before stepping past Quinn. "Yeah, we need to talk."
"Yeah, we do, last night was…amazing."
Mercedes frowned. "Last night?"
Sam turned to her. "It was nothing like that, just dinner."
"You should go now." She said not wanting to deal with him anymore." Mercedes said, didn't watch them leave.
Instead, she turned back to her desk, hands shaking slightly as she pressed her fingers to her lips.
She could still taste him, and that terrified her. She wanted him but didn't know how to deal with that.
Sam sat on the edge of his couch, bouncing his knee as he flipped through the TV channels aimlessly. Nothing was sticking. Nothing could distract him from the storm brewing in his head.
He barely registered the sound of his brother moving around, but when Silas walked out of his bedroom in a fresh outfit, hair styled effortlessly like he wasn't even trying, Sam finally snapped out of it.
"Where are you going?" Sam asked, frowning as he took in the sight of Silas putting on a leather jacket.
Silas grabbed his watch from the counter and fastened it on his wrist. "Out."
Sam's frown deepened. "Out where?"
Silas smirked, glancing at his younger brother. "Out with Mercedes and her friends."
Sam's jaw clenched, his grip tightening on the remote. "You and Mercedes, huh?"
Silas caught the shift in his tone immediately and rolled his eyes. "Relax, Sam. I told you that while I like Mercedes, I think she's great, and I also know where her heart is. And I wouldn't do that to you." He frowned, staring at his brother. "Do you even realize the game you are playing with her?
Sam sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. "I do, Silas. I really do. And I am not trying to play with her. But things are getting complicated."
Silas crossed his arms, waiting. "Go on. Explain this to me."
Sam stood up and started pacing. "I tried to tell Quinn I wasn't interested, okay? After—" He hesitated, the memory of kissing Mercedes in her office flashing in his mind.
Silas arched a brow. "After what?"
Sam exhaled, looking up at his brother. "After I kissed Mercedes again. In her office. And she kissed me back and told me she wanted me as much as I wanted her."
Silas blinked, then grinned like he'd just won a bet. "Oh, so you finally stopped being a coward?"
Sam glared at him. "Shut up. That's not the point. The point is that right after that, I tried to tell Quinn I wasn't feeling it and that I would not be with her. But before I could, she took me to her father's office; we had had dinner last night… And guess what?"
Silas sighed, already knowing where this was going. "What?"
"Her dad said he's putting more money into my book tour because Quinn suggested it would be a great investment. And he's giving me a Ten thousand Dollar advance. Do you know what that can do for all of us?"
Silas stared at him for a long second. Then, he burst out laughing.
Sam's irritation flared. "What the hell is funny about that?"
Silas wiped a tear from his eye, still smirking. "So, let me get this straight. You got caught up with a woman you don't even want, and now you're backed into a corner because her daddy's funding your career? It's hilarious."
Sam groaned, dropping onto the couch. "I feel trapped, man. I don't know what to do."
Silas sat across from him, his smirk fading slightly. "Then don't be. You can work for her dad and not be with her."
Sam looked up at him, frustration evident on his face. "It's not that easy. She is pushing hard for my career, and it's great, but her father owns the company. I never should have even kissed her. I'm such a dumbass,"
"Yes, you are," Silas countered, leaning forward. "Sam, listen to me. Mercedes isn't the kind of woman who's gonna wait around while you figure yourself out. If you want her, you have to show her. And that means cutting Quinn loose, no matter what her daddy offers you."
Sam clenched his jaw. "You think I don't know that? I just—" He ran a hand through his hair, his thoughts a mess. "I don't want to screw my chance at being an Author, a real one up. People don't get this chance all the time."
Silas gave him a long, measured look before sighing. "Grow up, Sam. Life is full of tough choices. But it's time for you to be honest. Stop playing it safe and fight for the woman you actually want."
Sam swallowed hard.
He knew Silas was right.
Before he could say anything else, Silas stood up, grabbing his phone and keys. "Look, I gotta go. Mercedes and the girls are waiting."
Sam nodded absently, still lost in his head.
Silas smirked as he walked to the door. "Come tonight and talk to her, or don't and focus on your career, and Quinn, it's your choice."
Silas opened the door to leave, as Blaine lifted his hand to knock.
"Hello, gentlemen, I see I am just in time," Blaine said, smiling as he walked in.
"Hey, Blaine."
"Si, where are you going all dressed up?" Blaine asked, throwing his bag on the couch. He looked between Sam's brooding expression and Silas' amused one and chuckled. "Oh, I missed some drama, didn't I?"
Before anyone could speak, Mercedes stood near the open door, and all three men turned to her, taking in her spaghetti-strapped white and flowered dress, with a cropped blue jean jacket and heeled wedges.
Her hair hung in a low ponytail hanging off her right shoulder. She wore bright red ruby lipstick and shimmering eyeshadow and practically glowed.
Blaine exhaled as Silas clapped Sam on the back. "Yeah, I gotta go; my date awaits me," he said before heading out and, taking Mercedes's hand, and pulling her away.
"Damn, is that her?" Blaine asked as he flopped onto the couch, smirking.
Sam nodded. "Yep. That was Mercedes Jones in all her beauty."
"Alright, Evans. Spill. The longing in your eyes and the way she wouldn't even look at you, tells me that something happened between our phone call and now."
Sam sighed heavily as he slumped onto the couch, rubbing his hands over his face as Blaine watched him like a disappointed older brother. The energy in the room was thick with frustration, mostly coming from Sam himself as he told Blaine everything that happened.
Blaine stretched out, crossing his ankles over the arm of the chair he'd claimed. "So, let's see if I've got this straight," he said, voice laced with amusement but eyes sharp. "You kissed Mercedes, she kissed you back, but then she freaked out, and you let her push you away. Then you kissed her again, she kissed you back, she freaked out, and again you walked away."
Sam grumbled, "It's not that simple."
Blaine ignored him. "So instead of pushing through that and actually talking to her, making her yours, you let Quinn pull you back into her orbit—"
"I didn't let Quinn do anything," Sam snapped.
Blaine raised an eyebrow. "Oh no? So you accidentally let her introduce you to her dad, who coincidentally decided to throw more money into your book tour and at you because his daughter is crushing on you?"
Sam groaned, flopping back onto the couch. "I didn't know she was going to do that, man. I never asked her to do any of that."
"Right, because Quinn strikes you as someone who never makes calculated moves," Blaine deadpanned. "I don't even know the woman, yet I can see she is playing for keeps, Sam. She is using her father and her money to keep you in line, and you are letting her."
Sam shot him a glare.
Blaine exhaled, his teasing edge fading as he leaned forward. "Look, dude. I get it. This tour? This book deal? You are so damn close to everything you've worked for. And I know you're scared that if you screw things up with Quinn, her dad pulls his funding, and suddenly, your dream feels unstable."
Sam's jaw tightened because Blaine had just hit the nail on the head.
"I'm not saying that doesn't suck," Blaine continued. "But at the end of the day, you have to figure out which matters more. Risking your career or risking Mercedes."
Sam exhaled, running a frustrated hand through his hair. His mind was all over the place, and Blaine's words weren't helping.
"Look, man," Sam started, his voice edged with exhaustion. "I just met Mercedes. Yeah, I'm attracted to her. She's beautiful and smart and challenges me, yet she is still so very sweet. And she really does get under my skin like no one else in the best way. But you're asking me to give up my dream for a woman I barely know."
Blaine studied him for a second before shaking his head. "I never said you had to give up your dream, Sam. I said you had to decide what matters more—playing it safe or actually going after what you want."
Sam gritted his teeth. "You don't get it. This book deal? The tour? It's my shot. It's what I've been working toward for years. If I piss off Quinn's dad, I could lose everything."
Blaine leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "And what happens if you wake up one day, with all the success you ever wanted, and realize that you let the wrong person in and pushed the right one away?"
Sam hesitated, but his jaw stayed locked. "Mercedes is great, and if we are meant to be, then I have to believe we will be. But I came to New York to live my dream."
Blaine sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "Man, I don't think you even believe that. You're just scared."
Sam's eyes flashed. "Of course I'm scared! I have never felt what I feel for a woman! I was with Frannie for three years, and I never loved her. But then I think I can't throw away my shot over feelings? Over a woman who's probably already decided I'm not worth the trouble?"
Blaine watched him carefully, then smirked. "Oh, you think she's the one who decided that?"
Sam stiffened.
Blaine shrugged. "Funny, because from what I can see, you're the one deciding she's not worth the risk."
Sam fell silent.
Blaine leaned back, studying him like he was waiting for the reality to sink in. "You say she's not your future. Fine. But let's be real—you kissed her like she was."
Sam looked away, his mind churning.
Blaine sighed, standing up and stretching. "You've got a lot to think about, man. But I'll tell you this—if you wait too long, the choice won't be yours anymore."
Blaine grabbed his phone from the table, checking the time. "Anyway, I'm starving. Let's get some food before you spiral any harder."
Sam didn't answer right away. He was too busy wrestling with the truth Blaine had just thrown in his face.
Mercedes wasn't asking him to give up his dream. But he might lose something just as important if he wasn't careful.
A knock took him out of his thought, and before he could even open the door, Quinn strutted inside like she owned the place, her heels clicking against the floor, her blonde hair styled perfectly, and not a strand out of place. She beamed at him, her excitement practically radiating.
"There's my favorite author!" she announced.
Blaine, who was still lounging in the chair, raised an eyebrow. "Did she just burst in here like she owns the place?"
Quinn ignored him, her attention locked on Sam. She sauntered over, perching on the edge of the couch as she stared at him.
"I have huge news," she said, eyes sparkling.
Sam exhaled, already tired. "Quinn, now's not—"
"No, just listen!" she interrupted, hopping up and gripping his hand. "My father and I have been working on something for you, and tonight, we need to celebrate."
Sam frowned. "Quinn, I already told you, I don't—"
She rolled her eyes dramatically. "Relax, Sam. This isn't just about us. This is about your career."
Blaine gave her a skeptical look. "Yeah? And what exactly are we celebrating?"
Quinn grinned triumphantly. "Sam and I are celebrating the fact that my company is getting Sam on the New York Times Best Sellers list."
Sam's head snapped up. "What?"
Quinn nodded eagerly. "My father is pulling some strings. He knows the right people, marketing execs, and critics. We're going to make sure your book hits the top ten."
Sam blinked, his brain racing.
This was huge. This was the dream. A New York Times Best Seller? That kind of career-making move put people on the map forever.
He should've felt elated. He should've felt grateful.
But instead, his stomach twisted.
Blaine, ever the skeptic, folded his arms. "And what does Sam have to do in exchange for this... incredible favor?"
Quinn shrugged, feigning innocence. "Nothing crazy. Just keep doing what he's doing. Play nice with my father. Attend a few extra events. You know, make the right connections. Enjoy spending time with his best girl, easy."
Blaine snorted. "So basically, sell his soul to you and your father."
Quinn's smile faltered for half a second before she regained composure. "Oh, please. Whoever you are, this is how the industry works. Sam has to be strategic. This is about him getting everything he's worked for."
She turned back to Sam, squeezing his hand. "So, we're going out. You, and me. We're celebrating. And you're going to let yourself enjoy this win."
Sam hesitated.
Everything he wanted was right there. Success. Influence. His dream.
But for some reason, all he could think about was Mercedes.
Blaine, sensing Sam's hesitation, leaned forward. "Hey, Sam, didn't you say Silas was out with Mercedes tonight? We were planning to catch up with them, right?"
Quinn's expression soured for half a second before she quickly forced a smile. "Who cares? That's her business. This is about us."
Sam's grip on the couch tightened.
Blaine didn't look away, watching him carefully. "Yeah, Sam. What's it gonna be? The career move of a lifetime? Or... something else?"
Sam swallowed hard.
Quinn smiled sweetly, her blue eyes full of expectation. "Fine, you wanna go to some little Karaoke bar? Let's go."
Blaine frowned. "That's not exactly what I was saying."
"It's done! Let's do it." Quinn said, pulling Sam to her.
The energy inside the bar was electric. Laughter, music, and the hum of conversation filled the space as Mercedes, Santana, Sugar, Dani, and Silas claimed a booth near the stage.
Mercedes hadn't planned on going out tonight. After everything with Sam, she was perfectly content staying home and burying herself in work.
But none of her friends would let her. Her girl's she understood, but Silas surprised her. She wished she felt something for him; he was perfect.
The place was buzzing—warm, neon-lit, and packed with people who just wanted to let loose. Mercedes had barely sipped her first drink when Sugar, being her usual chaotic self, dragged Silas onto the dance floor.
"Oh my God," Mercedes whispered to Santana as they watched Sugar twirling under Silas' arm. "I think she actually likes him."
Santana smirked. "Oh, she totally does. And he's eating it up. Look at the way he's looking at her."
Sure enough, Silas focused on Sugar as they danced, his hands resting low on her waist, whispering something that made Sugar laugh loudly.
Dani leaned over. "You think he's into her, too?"
Mercedes glanced at them again and grinned. "Absolutely. She's got him."
Once the owner came up saying it was time for Karaoke, Silas, who had returned to the table with Sugar, leaned over to Mercedes, grinning like the devil, nudging her arm. "Alright, Jones. Let's see if your voice lives up to the hype."
Mercedes' eyes widened. "Excuse me?"
Sugar, giggling against his shoulder, clapped excitedly. "Oh my God, yes! Sing something!"
Santana smirked. "Oh, she's not just gonna sing. She's about to shut this place down."
Mercedes groaned. "Y'all are impossible."
Silas stood, holding out a hand, his signature smirk firmly in place. "Come on, superstar. Don't leave me hanging."
The crowd started cheering as Silas led her toward the stage.
Mercedes shook her head but couldn't stop the smile pulling at her lips. "You are so lucky I like you, Evans."
Silas winked. "I know. I picked a good one."
Mercedes shook her head as the music started, and she recognized it immediately, knowing she didn't need the screen.
Looking out into the Audience, Mercedes beamed as she began to sing 'Disco Inferno.' As she swirled her hips, singing and getting the other customers to sing with her, she finally felt like she was getting back to where she was.
As the song ended and the crowd screamed 'Encore' lead by Silas's ass, she smiled.
"Okay, well, since you all asked nicely, I will do another. Who wants to put up a random song for me?"
A patron raised her hand and walked to the front; Mercedes recognized her as a man out with her friends; she seemed down at the beginning of the night.
"I really would love to hear this song." The woman said, and Mercedes smiled.
"You got it."
As 'Lose You to Love Me' by Selena Gomez started to play, Mercedes drew on her own pain to give that woman a powerful rendition.
The moment she started singing, the room changed. Her voice was smooth, powerful, and effortlessly captivating.
Hearing the crowd sing along to the chorus, their voices blending beautifully, she continued singing.
Mercedes was so into the music that she didn't notice the door open, and Sam walked inside arm in arm with Quinn.
Nor did she see the devastation on Sam's face, hearing her sing that she needed to hate him to love herself.