Harassenger: Backseat Admirer ✔️

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Three

Over the course of the next few days, Mick and I spent much of our time together. We watched corny movies, swam in the pool, scarily enough in the deep end, and we even spent time with our parents as lame as it sounds. Trixie was busy on multiple dates with her new hardware fling, and Holt and Della were busy trying to mend their relationship, and Holt and I haven't much spoken since our night at the gym. I was lost in the land of all that was Mick Conrad, and my barriers were starting to crumble.

"You've been at this place every day this week. Are you getting any stronger?" Mick not only hung out with me during his free time, but he also put in some work on our equipment. It was the only time I didn't mind staying behind to watch a man workout.

"That's an insult. Do I not look stronger?" Mick flexed his muscles in front of me, trying to appear macho. He was strong and well-built, I'll give him that, and extra points for being sweaty, but he looked about the same as he did at the beginning of the week. Or maybe he was stronger and I was spending too much time with him to notice the difference.

"I'm not seeing much." I took the opportunity to jab at him with my commentary, reaching higher to squeeze his flexed biceps.

"This is a man's highest form of self-esteem and you've butchered it, Fisher. Alright, if you're so fit, drop and give me fifty." His pointer finger pointed to the rough surface of the floor, and yet I stated back at him, tapping my foot.

"I never claimed to have been physically fit. I told you I only manage a gym; I don't work out. I prefer eating as my daily exercise. But you, however, say you're fit."

Mick rolled his eyes, rolling up the sleeves of his Florida Gator sweatshirt.

"Fine, I'll demonstrate. Get on my back."

"What?"

"At the beginning of the week, I could barely do twenty push-ups because I was so bent out of shape from vacation. Get on my back and I guarantee I can do one hundred."

Mick landed on his hands and knees, which was already an accomplishment on this hard floor. He urged me to sit on his stretched back. I had a big butt and I was afraid I'd squash him, so I sat down gently like I was a queen riding on the back of a horse and waving to the crowd. Instead, Mick adjusted me himself, pushing me until my legs fit like they were in the saddle.

I felt the motion like a dropping roller coaster ride as he dipped for one push-up. At first, his hands struggled to adjust themselves on the floor, but found a comfortable spot. The next ten went by fast, and then he started to get cocky, clapping his hands together as he drew upward. He was too arrogant, and inevitably couldn't do more than fifty, but it was more than I had expected with me on his backside. His muscles arched with every passing movement and his butt flexed until he finally gave up.

I eased myself off of him, admitting that he did a good job.

"You did great, but sadly couldn't make it to one hundred." I gave him a thumbs up, then steadily rotated it to a thumbs down, joking with him.

"Just give me a second to catch my breath; my arms hurt, but I'm gonna get through it. But this time, I'm going to need you to get under me." He reported.

"Come again?" He just uttered the words 'get under me' and I just about lost my sanity.

He dusted off his hands, doing a set or lunges to give his back a much needed break. He stood back up, stretching out once more. His face showed no sign of wrongdoing, even if his words had affected me so.

"Yeah. I'm having trouble keeping my hands a good distance apart. I need you to be my boundary. You okay with that?"

I couldn't say no.

"Alright; if it helps you not make a fool of yourself." I teased.

"Oh, it'll help. I'm making it to one hundred to prove you wrong."

I inched my way onto the floor, which Adam wouldn't have approved of. It was probably filled with more shoe prints and dirt than anywhere else.

I let my hair fall to one side and my feet flat against the surface. Mick situated himself on top of me, his fifty-first push-up under way. I held his hands for him to make sure they were aligned perfectly and watched as he teetered downward, his face a mere centimeter from my own.

"Fifty-one." His mouth whispered near mine, his breath collided against my own. I swear, I was breathing as heavily as he was.

"Fifty-two." Mick exhaled, his damp hair tickled against my forehead and I tried not to squirm, keeping my hands on his.

"Hey, did you know you have a light birthmark by your leg? It's cute." He was too close for comfort. I did, in fact, have an oval-shaped birthmark on my leg.

"Yepp."

"Birthmarks indicate how you've died in your past life, if you believe in that jazz. I was just checking to see if you had one."

"But why?" I interjected.

"Well, if I ever time travel, I'll know how to save your life next time." I blushed at his words, and this time, I knew he could see me reddened skin so close up. Instead of making me embarrassed further, he stopped making small talk and continued to count.

"Fifty-seven." He continued to go on and on, and maybe I was getting dizzy but it it felt like he was getting closer each time. He went until ninety-nine. He had one left, his eyes hungry and malicious for victory, but yet his body caved to the existing pressure. His sweaty body fell onto mine in a heap. His cheek pressed against mine as he lay there, catching his breath. I was just glad no one was here to see this; otherwise, they'd get the wrong idea.

Mick flipped himself onto the side of me, both of us laying there to catch our breath.

"I lost. You were right." He chuckled, raising this bottom of his sweatshirt to wipe his sweaty face.

"You did better than I thought. It was a hard challenge, especially with me on top of you. I don't know how you managed fifty at first." I replied, turning to my side to face him as he lay on his back.

"You're a good motivator." He stated.

"If I was that great, you would have done one hundred."

"You were better than great; that's why I only did ninety-nine. You didn't think I gave up at the end for no reason, did you? I had an ulterior motive." He winked.

"Oh, did you?"

"Yeah, the girl I liked was right under me. I couldn't miss the chance to get closer." He was yanking my chain, clearly. Although, he never usually flirted like this...

"Right. Just admit defeat." I laughed.

"I admit I'm defeated. I admit that I like you. A lot." His face, like a scantron unable to be read, continued to stare at that ceiling.

I licked my lips, waiting for him say more, but I couldn't. Mick was a jokester, and I was waiting for him to laugh, but he never did. If his comment was sincere, was I willing to reciprocate?

"Come on. Let's get out of here. Grab your Jeep and let's go." And I followed him, because I was curious to see where this might lead.