Harassenger: Backseat Admirer ✔️

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

It was Della's bright idea to rent horses for horseback ride on the beach. I assumed it was a photo-op, and I was proven correct when she makes me take a picture of her laying on the horse before we left. If the horse could talk, he'd beg me to report her for assault.

No one felt inclined to tell me that I needed to wear some butt padding or at least a thick fabric to protect me from the detrimental back of the horse. The horse, the Florida Cracker, carried me on its back with little to no effort. I was putting in more effort trying to stay on.

We trotted along the beach, Trixie and Mick lagging behind, my horse in the middle, and Holt and Della in the front, soaking up the sunset of another beautiful night in Destin.

My horse galloped faster, catching up to Holt, whose horse was running away leaving nothing but dust, or in this case, sand. That's when I realized my horse, the feisty female she was, was attracted to Holt's horse. I knew the feeling all too well what it was like to chase after someone who ran away. In some ways, me and this horse were much alike. We could be good friends...we could be...oomph!

That's when I fell onto the ground face first into the ground, a mixture of salt and grains of dignity surrounding my mouth. I had fallen off the horse, or rather, it kicked me off.

The feeling of soft sand had numbed the impact, but the trace of bright, red blood around my legs told me I was injured.

I pulled my leg to my chest, examining the gushing blood from my knee. I tried to swipe away some of the blood, and the scar wasn't as bad as I orginally thought.

"Natt!" Both Holt and Mick ran up to me, Trixie and Della not far behind.

"I'm fine, I'm fine." I said, embarrassed that the ride stopped short because of me.

"Good. I spent so much money on getting these horses! Let's get going." Della whined, already storming off back to her horse.

"Della, stop this. Don't you see she's hurt?" Holt defended me over his wife, and he looked pretty angry, too. Was it real, or was the Florida heat causing a mirage?

"Yeah, can it Carrot Top. Come on, Natt, I'll take you to the beach house. Ride with me." Mick grabbed one of my arms, but I pulled back.

"I can handle going back myself. You guys enjoy the ride; I'd hate to ruin it." I said.

"No, as if. We'll take you back." Holt said, agreeing with Mick.

"I'll take her, guys." Mick said, regardless of my reluctance.

"But Mick..." Mick crouched down to my level, whispering back to me.

"Don't argue with me. I'll carry you on my back if you don't be a good girl and get on the back of my horse." The wind whipped around us causing the blood to drip farther down my leg, and regardless of my willingness to be stubborn, I needed my leg to be seen to."

"Well, alright." Keeping to his word, Mick left me alone to get on the horse myself, him following after me. He set his stomach tightly against my back, his hands holding the reigns next to my stomach. I'm glad I had a small dinner or else he would be feeling a lot of jelly rolls.

"Thanks for leaving the ride for me." I said, watching as the rows of beach houses got closer, ours a striking beautiful blue compared to the rest.

"No worries. I only came out so you wouldn't be lonely with those losers. Holt and his girl don't make much conversation, and your friend Trixie is stuck in her phone. I thought for sure she'd be the first to fall off the horse."

"Well, here I am, always ready to surprise. They were pretty boring, and Holt is really closed off when he's around Della."

"Yeah, he let's her control him. He's too stupid to realize what he had right in front of him and he downsized with that leech." Mick mentioned, his chest tightening behind me, molding to my body, causing the gritty sand to scratch its way down my back.

"I'm not that special. I'm clumsy, and a lot of work to deal with, as you can see by my accident." I mumbled.

"What's the fun if you have a boring girl?"

"You really think I'm not that bad?"

"I could tell you no, but I want you to believe it for yourself. I shouldn't have to tell you how amazing you are." Wiser words have never been dripped from the mouth of Mick Conrad. He was smarter than he gave himself credit for, and the both of us could learn a lot from each other.

"Mick, can I be honest? I was reluctant to bring you on this trip, but you have been the one thing that has kept me from drowning myself in the ocean. When you're not being a nuisance, you're actually pretty cool. You're a good cooking partner, you're a decent bodyguard, and you know every lyric to my Rascal Flatts and Kenny Chesney beach playlist, and I fully respect that."

"Wow, judging me based on a playlist." We stopped next to our beach house, and called the owners the ride was almost over.

Mick lifted me up from the horse, helping me into the house and straight to the bathroom.

I sat onto the counter as if I were going to give a shaving demonstration, and waited for Mick to come back with the first aid kit.

Mick was kind, but inept at cleaning a wound. He tried using hot water to clean the wound, and initially burned me, causing more pain then there was before.

"I can clean it, thank you." I kept calm, finishing the cleaning and apply of the antiseptic. In my eyes, the wound was a little bigger than a quarter, and nothing compared to what it looked like before.

I hear the sound of paper being torn next to me, noticing Mick had gotten out a bandage.

As he sat on the cover of the toilet seat, he hunched over to reach my leg and set it against his lap.

He gently blew against my knee, placing the bandage horizontal and sealing it with pressure from his fingers.

"It feels much better now." I smiled, looking down at Mick (one of the only times I could look down at him).

"You're a pretty tough girl. I would've been yelling like an idiot when I fell down." He said, giving a purse-lipped smile.

"When I fall, I like to get back up. That's how I live my life, I suppose."

"Interesting. When I think I know everything about you, I learn a little bit more." He said, tossing the paper and bloody cotton balls into the trash and getting up to leave.

"There's plenty you don't know about me, Mick Conrad. I'm an open book for a minute or two, and then I'm sealed shut again."

Mick turned back around, his hand rubbing his chin.

"But what if I want to read more?" He didn't wait for answer; instead, he left, leaving me speechless.