Page 2 of Quest for her Knights
“I date! I had a date two nights ago,” I say defensively, making her smirk.
“And how long did that one last?”
“Shut up,” I grumble, throwing one of my books at her.
She laughs as she catches it, quickly smoothing out the cover. “It’s not my fault they can’t handle my awesomeness.”
“Right. It has nothing to do with how you scare them off.”
I know she loves me and doesn’t mean anything by it, but I can’t help feeling a little wounded by her comment. It’s been one of the biggest issues in my dating life.
A lot of men tend to see me as a bit… much. But I figure if they scare that easily, then good riddance. It’s why I was so sure I needed someone with daddy dom energy to help rein me in a bit. But there’s a difference between reining me in and trying to change me completely.
“I’m bored. You got anything new for me to read?” I ask, changing the subject.
“Since yesterday?” she laughs. “No, I—” She cuts herself off, her hand flying to her stomach as she hisses in pain.
“Aribella, what’s wrong?” I ask, worry tinging my voice as I climb out of my beanbag and crawl over to her. I try to pull her hand away from her stomach, expecting to see something there, but she quickly releases it, and I see the tension leave her body.
“Are you okay?” I ask, my eyes scanning her for any sign of injury.
“Yeah, it’s just this… pain I get sometimes.” I help her stand as she wipes nonexistent dust from her perfect dress. “Look, I need to lie down for a bit, so I’m going to close the store. Can we chat tomorrow?”
“Of course. But are you sure you’re okay? Do you need to go see a doctor or something?”
She quickly shakes her head as she starts guiding me to the door. “No, I’m fine, pro—ah, dammit!” she cries out, bending over.
I help support her, and after a few seconds, she stands back up.
“Ari, what the hell is going on?”
Her worried eyes search mine before she answers. “You have to go, Elora. Now, please.”
“I’m not leaving you like this! Are you crazy? You’re my best friend!”
“Ahh!” she cries, bending over again. “Fine,” she grits out between hisses. “Lock the front door and help me to my office.”
“You sure you don’t want me to call an ambulance?” I ask, rushing to the door, turning the lock, and flipping the sign toClosed.
“Yes. I know what’s wrong, I can fix it. It’s just not normally this bad, this fast.”
“I’ll help, but then you have some explaining to do,” I tell her, wrapping an arm around her waist and guiding her towards the back.
I reach for the door handle to her office, but her hand on my arm stops me.
“Leave it.”
She places her palm on the door, then turns to face me. “I’ll explain later, okay?”
I nod, watching her in confusion.What kind of illness was this?
She turns back to the door, and a light begins to pulse around her hand, making me gasp.
What in the world?
A bright glow shoots out from under the doorframe for a few seconds, and when it recedes, she grabs the handle and pushes it open.
My eyes go wide at the sight of her office. What used to be a six-by-six-foot room with a small, old metal desk and a rusty chair is now a space at least ten times the size, decked out in sleek white modern furniture. I can feel my eyes practically fall out of my head as I look around in shock.
