Harassenger: Backseat Admirer ✔️

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Holt Andrews didn't waste any time leaving me alone with Mick, which I guess was a good thing. The last thing I needed was Holt to stick around to try to convince Mick we were in love or something. It was best I talked to Mick. I was cornered by Holt and never expected such a bombshell.

"Mick." I found myself out of the shadows and next to Mick, whose face etched in an anger in a thousand raging bulls.

"He's in love with you. The guy you've wanted is in love with you just like I told to you that he was. So what are you doing standing with me instead of running after him?" His hands met with his pockets, running his thumbs over the denim of his jeans.

"Is there any trust between us? I told you I didn't like him, and I thought I made that pretty clear when we kissed." I said.

"Or maybe you think of me as a rebound..."

"Shut up, Mick. Stop trying to act like that because you're mad. I told Holt I didn't like him because of you."

"Well, this is hard for me. I've never been in this situation, and I've never found a girl worth being in this situation." He said.

"What situation? It's not like I'm pining for two men. I want you, you idiot! Stop making this difficult." I ran my hand along the side of his cheek, but he forced himself to look away.

"I have the job lined up in Texas. If it would make things easier, I could..."

"How could you say that? You said you wouldn't take that job." That was it. My emotions got the better of me and I punched him on the shoulder, inevitably hurting my poor knuckles.

"Ow, shit! Why did you make me hit you?!" I cried, wincing in pain.

"Me? You hit me! Damn." He held onto his shoulder as we both stood there in pain.

"Shit, ugh! I hate you, Mick Conrad! I pour my heart out to you and you tell me you might be moving because you're a little jealous? Since when do you act like that? Ugh, damn I hate you!" I held onto my hand, hoping the pain subsides.

"Let me see your hand."

"To hell you will! Don't touch me; I'm still mad at you. Mick, you're the guy, not a guy, the guy for me. I can picture my life with you, but I need you to tell me you feel that way about me, not that you want to move a thousand miles away from me."

"That's just it." He shook his head.

"What?"

"The question isn't if you can see your future with me; you can picture your life with anyone. The question is this: is the future you see with me the one you want, and the one you deserve?"

"Mick..."

"Baby, listen, I'm in love with you; I won't lie. I'm so crazy about you its driving me nuts, but I want what's best for you."

"Yeah, and it's my choice. I want you, and I need you. Please, just don't say anything. You need to figure out that you're worth it, so come find me when you do." Yes, I was putting him in a time out until he came to his senses; I just hoped it would be for long, and I certainly hoped it wouldn't be forever.

I turned to find my car, but I stopped again, punching him on his shoulder once again.

"Ow, are you crazy? What was that one for?" He yelled.

"Because I'm trying to give you a head start by knocking some sense into you! Now, I'm leaving."

I stomped away, nursing my hurt arm as I head toward my vehicle.

I felt my phone buzz and I felt for my phone on my back pocket, reaching to see Trixie on the line.

"What?" I said, a little too harshly.

"Hey, I'm on my way to the hospital. You there, right? I don't want to be alone."

"I'm leaving."

"Shoot, I just got back from a family date with the Australian."

"Hardware guy?"

"Oh yeah, he's handy alright. Anyway, his family is great, all but his brother. He was making fun of my being American. He said that I probably think Australians say shrimp on the barbie. I told him no, and that I would put a stick on the barbie myself if he were to make fun of me again. But then I said that something may actually be small like a shrimp. We all laughed, apart from him. It was great."

"Wow." I said.

"You alright? You don't sound great, unless I'm really that boring to talk to." Trixie said over the phone.

"No. A lot has happened." I told Trixie everything, and after we talked for about an hour straight, I felt all of my pent up anger had been released, but the heartache was still fresh, along with my bruised knuckles.

I drove home and laid down in my bed, my sister keeping me company on the side of me.

A tear fell against my cheek as I rested on my sid, refusing to let Jamie see me cry for the first time.

"When my boyfriend gives me trouble, I hug it out at the park when he see each other."

"You don't have a boyfriend." I said, muffled in my firm pillow.

"Yes." She argued.

"No, you don't. And no, I didn't hug it out. I punched him, and it didn't work."

I wasn't good with dealing with confrontation. That much was obvious when I saw my grandmother for the first time in years, and it applies with every other relationship I have.

"Owwy. Tough love works too, sometimes. I think it'll all be fine." I turned around to look at my crazy sister, examine her chubby cheeks for a fever.

"When did you become so smart?" I asked.

"I'm just like you, Natt." She hugged me tight, and my heart gave way, tears, sad and happy ones, strolled down my face.