Minor Injury

Maya's POV

I stood frozen beside the pickup, unsure whether to move or disappear. My feet felt glued to the gravel, and my mind was spinning. I didn't even know if Adonis was truly looking at me—his dark sunglasses gave nothing away—but knowing him, I felt sure his gaze hadn't left me.

A knot formed in my stomach. What was he thinking this time? Another twisted plan to humiliate me? I silently wished for Rich to appear—anything to escape this awkward limbo. Time seemed to slow, like the world was holding its breath.

I decided I couldn't just stand there like a statue.

I turned and made a dash toward the house, keeping my head low, but in my haste, I didn't notice the loose stone on the path. My foot landed on it wrong—I slipped, arms flailing—and pain exploded through my hip and ankle as I crashed to the ground with a loud thud.

A strangled cry escaped me as I tried to push myself up, but my body ached too much to move properly. And just as panic started to rise—

I felt strong hands grasp my waist.

He lifted me like I weighed nothing, and before I even saw his face, I knew exactly who it was. That scent—clean, masculine, faintly citrus—Adonis Monleon.

For a brief, traitorous second, I went still in his arms. The closeness was dizzying. His breath brushed my cheek. His grip was firm but gentle. I hated how familiar it all felt—how my heart still betrayed me, racing like a drum in my chest.

Then he pushed his sunglasses onto his head, revealing those deep brown eyes—and the butterflies in my stomach fluttered with maddening energy.

"Are you okay, Maya?" he asked, voice low.

That was all it took.

I pushed him away without a word and hobbled toward the house as fast as my throbbing ankle allowed, burning with embarrassment. I didn't look back. I didn't want to see his face, or worse—his smirk. Why, out of everyone, did it have to be him who witnessed my most humiliating moment?

By the time I stepped into the foyer, the pain hit me full force.

I winced and stumbled, clutching the doorframe. Rich appeared almost instantly, eyes widening with concern. "Maya? What happened?"

"I—I tripped," I muttered, my voice tight. "There was a rock on the path. I didn't see it. I fell."

Before I could say anything else, he swept me off my feet—literally—and carried me to the long sofa in the living room like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Rich, you don't have to—"

"Stop it. You're in pain," he cut in gently, setting me down with care. "Looks like you twisted your ankle. Let me get some ice."

He returned moments later with a cold compress and a roll of bandage. "Hold still," he murmured as he pressed the cool bag against my swollen ankle. I hissed softly but nodded, grateful for his steady presence.

"You didn't have to wrap it," I said shyly as he began securing the bandage.

"Yes, I do. You want to be able to walk tomorrow, don't you?" he replied, half-scolding, half-teasing. "And next time, Maya, be careful. Especially if Adonis is within a mile of you."

My cheeks burned. "He had nothing to do with this."

"Maya, please," Rich said, raising an eyebrow. "You're practically glowing. Your face gives away everything."

I didn't have time to deny it because right then, Adonis walked in.

"What about me?" he asked, and I immediately lowered my gaze, pretending to study the tiled floor. Why was he even here? He looked so at ease lounging on the porch earlier. Why couldn't he just stay there?

"Nothing," Rich said coolly. "I was just saying it was probably your fault Maya got hurt."

Adonis scoffed. "Seriously? I was sitting peacefully when she bolted like a deer and wiped out all on her own. I even helped her up, and she ran from me like I was contagious."

He said it with that signature arrogance that made me want to throw something. My ears burned with a mix of fury and humiliation. Why did he have to make it sound so ridiculous?

Before I could snap back, Donya Esmeralda entered the room, her smile warm as ever.

"Rich, take Maya and Adonis to the dining hall. Laura's prepared merienda," she said, then turned to me kindly. "Maya, forgive me—I just received a call from a client and need to speak with Benedict."

"It's alright, Donya Esmeralda," I replied, trying to sound composed.

Adonis was watching me again. I could feel it—sharp and lingering. I turned away quickly, willing him to stop. I hated how much I felt his gaze. I hated even more that a part of me still wanted it.

Rich helped me to my feet, supporting my weight as we walked to the dining room. I didn't miss the way Adonis's jaw tightened. He hated seeing his best friend this close to me. He probably resented the way Rich cared—how Rich chose to help the "poor girl" instead of spending time with him.

Inside, the scent of freshly baked Spanish bread filled the room, comforting and warm. I was about to smile, but then I caught Adonis staring at me again. This time his expression was unreadable—his eyes fixed, his face unreadable.

Did I have something on my face? Why wouldn't he stop looking?

I looked away, flustered, cursing him silently.

He has no idea how much this affects me. And worse—I don't know if he does it to taunt me or if he feels something, too.

"Are you two having a staring contest?" Rich said suddenly, chuckling. "Well, this is new. You used to fight like cats and dogs. Now you're having a silent war."

The heat rushed back to my cheeks. I looked away, pretending to focus on the breadbasket.

If I keep reacting like this, he'll know. He'll know that despite everything, a part of me still wants him—and that's what he's probably testing. Maybe the slap I gave him earlier wasn't enough. Maybe he's back to see if I'm still the foolish girl he once kissed and discarded.

But I'm not that girl anymore.

At least… I'm trying not to be.

"I'm just trying to understand what you see in her, Rich," Adonis said, his tone casual but with a subtle edge. "As your best friend, I'm trying to figure out where your head is at. We've known each other since we were kids—I usually get you. But this… this is the first time I really don't."

He shifted his gaze toward me briefly, then back to Rich.

"There are plenty of beautiful farm assistants in your hacienda. Why her?" he continued, not bothering to hide his skepticism. "You're just like Ariana. She seems to adore her too. I don't know what it is, but I feel like everyone sees something in her that I just can't."

My entire body stiffened. The heat crawled up my neck and bloomed across my cheeks. So that's what all those long stares were—judgment, curiosity. Not interest. Not admiration. I was just a mystery to be solved, a case to be studied. And I was the fool who thought there was something more.

Rich's brows furrowed, and for the first time, his voice carried a quiet force.

"Adonis, you're right. This is new—for both of us. Maya's different. She's not trying to impress anyone, and maybe that's what makes her stand out. She doesn't pretend. She works hard, and she listens. She's kind, smart, and grounded. I'm friends with a lot of people, but Maya's the kind of person who makes you want to be better."

He paused and glanced at me, then returned his attention to Adonis.

"And if you have a problem with my friendship with her, I'd prefer you bring it up with me—not in front of her. I'd appreciate it if you respected that."

I wanted to cheer for him. I wanted to throw a confetti parade. But instead, I sat there, trying not to let my satisfaction show too much. Still, a part of me wanted to stick my tongue out at Adonis and shout, See? Someone sees me.

Adonis leaned back in his seat, tapping a finger against the table thoughtfully. Then, after a few seconds of loaded silence, he said, "Fine. If this is the only way I get to keep my best friend, then maybe I need to give Maya a chance. Let her prove her worth."

He looked at me then—too directly—and added, "Let me drive you home."

The offer was like a slap and a caress at the same time. I wasn't expecting it. My throat tightened, and my mind blanked. I couldn't speak. It was like someone had snatched the words from my mouth before I could even form them.

Rich blinked in surprise. "Wow. That's… unexpected. I don't know what to say, Adonis."

Oh, I know what to say, I thought bitterly.

"Excuse me," I finally spoke, standing up just enough to straighten my shoulders. "I get it now. Rich, your best friend doesn't want me in your car, so now he's offering to take me home like I'm some errand he's being forced to run? No, thank you. I'd rather walk."

The words burned a little coming out, but they were mine—and I was proud I said them. Still, a traitorous whisper curled in the back of my mind, wondering how it would feel to sit inside Adonis's car, breathing in the scent that always clung to his skin—clean, warm, masculine, intoxicating.

I hated myself for imagining it.

I could already see it so vividly. Maybe he'd reach across to buckle my seatbelt, and our fingers would brush. Maybe there'd be a silence, heavy with meaning. Maybe he'd look at me the way he used to, the way that once made me believe he felt something.

And maybe—just maybe—he'd kiss me again.

I bit my lip and looked away. Stop it, Maya, I told myself. He's not your fantasy. He's your heartbreak wearing a handsome face.

But oh, how foolish the heart can be.