eighteen;

Background color
Font
Font size
Line height

____________________

My new goal is to woo the shit out of Mabel Carter. Maybe it's a way to distract myself from the impending decision that needs to be made regarding my future, but it's also a challenge. And I'll be honest, I'm definitely a man fueled by testosterone and an inexplicable drive to prove myself.

"You're planning a date?" Tyler grins, amusement flickering in his eyes.

He's spotting me in the weight room while I work on the benchpress, and with the way he's been babbling he's not doing a very good job. It's kinda hard to feel safe when the guy lumbering over me is more focused on my dating life rather than the two-hundred pounds of weight that currently run a risk of crushing my sternum.

"Add ten more." I let out a huff as I bring the bar back up to the rack. "And yes. Why is that so funny?"

Tyler slips the weights on the bar, making sure they're secure before coming back to stand by my head. "You don't know shit about romance, Woodsie."

"And you do?" I grunt back, carefully lowering the barbell until it nearly grazes my chest. Tyler's hands follow the movement, never touching the bar, but there just in case I need him to. "Why does everyone think I'm incapable of showing a girl a good time?"

He snorts loudly. "Nobody said that. I'm your housemate dude, I've heard you give plenty of women a good time."

I let out a growl as I exhale. "Fuck off, Ty. I should've never told you—"

"I'm just razzing ya," he interrupts with a lopsided grin. "Switch."

I get to my feet and Tyler takes my place on the bench press.

"So what's your big plan for your romantic evening tonight?" He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, exhaling through his mouth as he brings the bar down close to his chest.

"Oh hell no, I'm not telling you. Can't have you stealing my moves when you're dating my girlfriend's best friend." I shake my head with a grin. "Fuck that."

Tyler and I continue our workout at the gym for the next forty-five minutes before packing up and going our separate ways. I climb into my truck and pull out my phone, scrolling through my missed messages. Most are from Luke, complaining about how he's certain his grades are slipping, and I respond back with a hefty dose of encouragement. I find the one I need from Davey-fucking-Miller, who's a Graphic Design major, and also easily persuaded into give up his studio time for some pointers with hockey. Part of me wanted to rub it in his face that the reason I needed it was for Mabel, but I had reined it that urge pretty quick.

Davey: All set. 7pm to 8:30pm is the block time. Need anything else?

I type out my reply quickly, naming off a few items, and hit send.

Step one: complete.

Step two was easy. I planned to order Thai and have it delivered while we were on our way back. My cooking skills, or lack there of, left a lot to be desired. Nothing romantic about a guy who burns water.

Step three, the final step, was the one that currently had my stomach in knots just at the thought of it. An ultimate romantic gesture. It fucking screams cliché.

The house is empty when I pull into the drive, and I take advantage of it. After a quick shower and shave, I slide on a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt, and set to work on "redecorating" my bedroom.

I'm grateful that the guys are gone because if they caught what I was doing there'd be no way in hell they'd ever let me live it down. Especially Luke. I can already hear the possible snide remarks from him in my head. All of them revolving around the term "pussy-whipped," and it makes my skin come alive, burning with unnecessary rage.

I wipe a tiny bead of sweat from my brow as I finish, silently cursing myself for having showered already. A glance at the clock on my phone tells me that if I don't leave very soon, I'm going to be very late.

✖️✖️✖️

Mabel wrenches open the door just as my knuckles brush its surface, her expression stormy. She folds her arms over her chest and raises a delicate eyebrow.

"Fifteen minutes late isn't—"

I cut her off, stepping forward to place both of my hands on her cheeks to guide her mouth to mine. She melts at the contact, parting her lips and allowing my tongue to tangle with hers briefly.

I retreat, planting a chaste kiss on the tip of her nose. "My tardiness will be worth it."

"I'll be the judge of that," she counters, spinning on her heel.

I watch her ass as she gets her coat, and it is such a sight to behold. The black cotton fabric of her leggings stretch over her round, perky ass, and I'm glad that I no longer have to sneer subtle peeks at it. My gaze is free to roam, and roam it does, taking in the soft, white, cashmere sweater that hugs her tiny curves in all the right places.

When Mabel returns she's zipping up an olive green parka and flipping her hair over the collar.

"You could try to be a little less obvious about checking me out." Her teeth sink into her lower lip as she fights a smile.

"You have a great ass, I can't help looking," I tease with an easygoing shrug.

She sighs and shakes her head, closing the door behind herself as she steps into the hallway. I snatch her hand from by her side, lacing my fingers through hers, and head for the stairs.

The art and design building isn't too far of a walk from Mabel's dorm so I don't bother with driving. She shoots me a questioning glance as we pass the truck, but I ignore her, continuing to lead us down the icy sidewalk.

"I should've grabbed my mittens," Mabel mutters under her breath, using her free hand to yank her hood up.

I angle myself in a way that I hope blocks most of the wind. "We're almost there."

From outside, all of the lights appear to be off, the only thing illuminating the halls being the emergency lighting system. The front doors are locked, only accessible to students who are majoring in the department, but that doesn't stop me. I lead Mabel around back, our boots crunching in the snow, until we reach a window to one of the classrooms. Davey had already popped out the screen and placed a book in the frame to keep it open.

"Alex, I don't think we're supposed to be here," Mabel whispers hesitantly. Her wide eyes scan the surrounding darkness for any onlookers.

I tug lightly on the sleeve of her coat. "Up you go."

"Uh-uh, no freaking way," she replies with a swift shake of her head. "Despite what you might think, breaking and entering isn't how I picture a romantic night out. It's too high for me to climb in anyway."

I purse my lips in thought. She's right. The window is only on the first floor, but it still only comes up to Mabel's chest.

What to do, what to do...

An idea sprints forth, and I slide my hands up under the hem of her coat so they rest on her hips.

"Alexander Woods you are not going to lift me up," she chastises, trying to crane her head back to look at me. "There's no way—" she lets out a muffled scream as I hoist her up. "Alex!"

Mabel scrambles, her hands finding hold on the ledge.

"Don't rain on my parade, Mabes," I warn teasingly.

With a final boost she manages to crawl through. It's not the most graceful landing, and I have to fight the strong urge to laugh as she pops back up with ruffled hair and pink cheeks.

I hoist myself up on the ledge, the tips of my boots finding hold against the brick wall. Mabel watches in amusement as I swing a leg over and crawl through. Shoving my wide frame through the small opening is anything but easy, but with a few grunts and scrapes I make it.

In an attempt to hide the evidence of our arrival, I take the book out of the window and slap it down on one of the desks. The halls might be lit by a few lights, but the classrooms themselves aren't, so it takes me a minute to weave through the desks to make it to the exit.

Once my fingers find purchase on the handle, I twist and push open the door. A soft glow from one of the lights down the hall spills into the room, giving Mabel enough sight to make her way over to me.
She continues to grumble about her unease as she passes me, but follows anyway when I lead her up to the second floor.

Having memorized the room number Davey had given me I find the studio room with relative ease.

"You have to close your eyes," I tell Mabel, blocking the door with my body.

She makes a face, her lips smashing into a thin line and her brows knitting together. It appears as though she's contemplating leaving the building altogether, and I hold my breath, but then she lets out a soft, defeated sigh. "Fine."

Her pale green eyes flutter closed, and I open the door, checking to make sure that everything is set up. The room smells of clay and oil paint, and it's a bit overwhelming since there aren't any windows. I kick a rubber wedge under the door to keep it open and then turn back to guide Mabel inside after flicking on the lights.

I duck my head so my lips graze the shell of her ear, and my dick twitches in response when the action causes Mabel to shiver.

"Open," I command gently.

Mabel complies, leaning back against my chest as she does so. "A pottery wheel?"

She steps inside further, glancing around the tiny space. It clearly gets cleaned regularly, but paint covered tins still line the benches along the walls. A cloth lays on the floor in the corner by an easel, no doubt a precaution to keep paint from dripping on the tile floor. Davey, as instructed, had brought a pottery station into the studio and a large chunk of gray clay sits on its round table.

Mabel understands the purpose right away. She turns on her heel to face me, a knowing smile plastered on her lips. "Like the movie Ghost?"

I nod slowly. My pulse quickens, causing my heart to hammer violently against my rib cage. "Too cheesy?"

She steps towards me, lifting a hand to play with my hair at the nape of my neck. "Not at all," she breathes, "it's perfect."

Thank fuck. I let out an audible sigh of relief. Looks like growing up with a romance-obsessed older sister finally worked out for something.

____________________

The wooing has begun! But don't worry, there's still plenty left of this date night 😏😉

Enjoy this chapter? Make sure to vote/comment/add this story to your reading list to let me know!

Also, thank you guys SO SO SO freaking much! BT has hit 1.6k+ reads 😭😇

Side note: if you don't know what Ghost is, one: where have you been?, and two: it was a film in the 90's with Patrick Swayze and Demi Moore

You are reading the story above: TeenFic.Net