Chapter 34 "Are you hurt?"
Celene's POV
My house had been a beehive of activity two days after my last writing episode. Maria had come along, helping me pack everything into portions and then load them into a rented BMW, yet it took us most of the morning since we had to do it all by ourselves.
“Remind me why we’re friends again?” Maria said, huffing and puffing as she carried a box full of shoes into the car. She leaned against the car, staring at me as I onloaded my own very full, very heavy box into the boot of the car, the sun beaming hot rays on us. Maria continued to speak.
“I mean, I never signed up to be a hired help, did I? I feel like that’s what you think I’m here for. And I’m not. I’m a princess, so why—oh why—am I here drenched in my royal sweat, having my behind handed to me by these thick boxes?”
“Because you love me? Completely, wholly, and truly,” I answered, a wide smile spreading across my face as I breathed heavily, sweat dripping from my temples.
“Stop being cheeky with me, you little worm. Look at my arms! Look! I’ve grown muscles in just one morning,” Maria said, feigning a frown and bending her elbows, showing me her lanky arms.
“Shouldn’t you be grateful then to me? Add some squats to these weights, and you’ll give Kim Kardashian a run for her money,” I said, ending with a sweet, innocent smile that only grew wider when Maria flipped me the bird.
“Oh really? You just wait. You forget my Latina heritage. When my butt decides to make an entrance, I’ll show you—and everyone who has ever mocked my behind—a real good time,” Maria said, giggling between words.
“Amen, somebody!” I said as I knelt beside her.
We both crumbled to the ground, breathing heavily and laughing.
“Is it that comfortable on the hard floor?”
Maria and I turned toward the owner of the voice.
Right in front of us, blocking the sun’s rays, stood Cole Ryder.
He was dressed in an all-black ensemble: his usual turtleneck long sleeve, black pants, and a long overcoat to match. His dark blonde hair was tied at the nape of his neck.
Maybe it was the news, but I could now see the Buenaventura in him...pure opulence and carriage, while I, sprawled on the floor, felt plain and a little annoyed in my ripped jeans and plain red blouse, with a hoodie tied around my waist.
I had been so preoccupied with checking him out that I had completely missed his statement until he repeated it.
“The floor…" he continued, "...Is it comfortable?” he asked again.
“Huh?” Maria and I answered at the same time.
Our previous laughter and banter had died down, replaced by complete awe on Maria’s face and chagrin on mine.
Cole looked at us again, tilting his head to the side, further examining us.
“You’re on the hard, dirty floor, Celene. Is it for fun? Or… did you fall down? Are you hurt?” With his last words, he walked a few more steps toward me, a look of worry crossing his face, but he stopped abruptly, as if it took so much effort to just be there.