Chapter 235 - 233: Is This Right?

"What are you spacing out for? Come sit down!"

His companion saw his dazed expression and thought he was just stunned by how beautiful the women were.

But they hung out with plenty of beautiful girls. He didn’t need to react like this, did he?

He was acting like he’d never seen the world!

One of them quickly went up to snap him out of his unseemly behavior, tugging his arm gently while giving him a look. "Go sit down!"

At the same time, he took the opportunity to lean in and whisper in his ear, "The ones today are pretty good. You’ve got a shot!"

Henry Marshall shivered, the panic in his eyes plain to see. But facing Cecilia Sterling, his legs went weak, and he didn’t even have the courage to turn and run.

’He’d only flirted with her sister and got beaten to a pulp. What was this now? They wanted him to hit on the woman herself?’

’Would he even survive?’

He still had nightmares about that incident. It had been a while, but seeing Cecilia Sterling again now made his face ache phantomly.

"Um..."

Henry Marshall started to speak hesitantly, but his buddy had lost patience. Without waiting for him to dither, he yanked him over and pushed him straight into the empty seat next to Cecilia Sterling.

Henry Marshall stumbled, his footing unsteady, and nearly fell on top of Cecilia Sterling. His forehead ended up bumping her shoulder.

The next second, he shot upright as if he’d been shocked, then started bowing frantically. "I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!"

His bizarre reaction left everyone else in the room stunned, especially his friends.

They were all rich young masters from powerful families who often went out to have fun together. Henry Marshall was usually the ringleader, a smooth operator who had dated his fair share of models and starlets.

But they hadn’t been able to get ahold of him for a long time before the New Year. Now that they’d finally managed to get him out, they’d even arranged for beautiful women to be here. What kind of stunt was he pulling now?

’Or is this his new move for the day?’

Cecilia Sterling couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight of Henry Marshall. ’Looks like I left a deep impression on this kid.’

"Don’t be nervous. Sit," Cecilia Sterling said slowly, her tone so neutral that Henry Marshall couldn’t tell if she was pleased or angry.

Henry Marshall’s throat bobbed as he subconsciously swallowed. He slowly sat down next to Cecilia Sterling, but didn’t dare get too close, not even letting his clothes touch the hem of hers.

He sat bolt upright with his knees pressed together, like a timid new bride.

His friends exchanged glances, all thinking that Henry Marshall must be on something today.

’If he’s sitting so prim and proper, doesn’t that just make the rest of us look like frivolous playboys?’

With a simultaneous shift in thought, they all straightened their posture and created a safe distance from the women beside them. None of them knew why they were doing it; they were just subconsciously following Henry Marshall’s "script" for the day.

’What was today’s script?’

’The dashing gentleman?’

’A gentleman of unshakeable virtue?’

’Or the innocent, naive youth?’

Three guys, three big question marks in their minds. None of them had a clue what Henry Marshall was trying to do.

This subtle shift in atmosphere surprised Estelle Goodman and the others. Jane Sterling glanced at the handsome young man next to her and asked, "How old are you, little bro?"

The handsome guy had already gotten into character, smiling shyly. "Twenty-three. I’m probably older than you, right?"

"I’m twenty-five. Call me ’big sis’!"

"Big sis..."

The handsome guy next to Blair took the initiative to start a conversation, his eyes glued to her long, straight legs. ’Such beautiful legs,’ he thought. ’It’s a pity they’re not in black stockings!’

"You have a great figure."

Blair had always been confident about her body. Not only was her figure good, her posture was even better. Otherwise, what was the point of all those years of martial arts?

So she said calmly, "I’ve been training in martial arts since I was a kid."

"No wonder. Your posture gives you such a graceful and elegant air. Do you do ballet?"

Hearing this, Blair’s pretty face scrunched up. "Ballet? I train in ’Martial Arts,’ not ’Dance’!"

The smile froze on the guy’s face. He’d hit on at least eighty, if not a hundred, girls, but this was the first one who practiced martial arts.

"S-Seriously?" the guy asked, looking at Blair hesitantly. He was skeptical, thinking she was just joking with him.

In response, Blair grabbed his wrist and squeezed lightly. He immediately grimaced in pain and begged for mercy, "OW, OW, OW, that hurts, that hurts."

The others looked over in alarm, wondering what was happening. They saw Blair release his hand and explain to the room, "I said I practice martial arts. He didn’t believe me."

The guy’s face was beet red. "I believe you. I believe you now."

But this didn’t make him wary of Blair. On the contrary, the lingering ache in his wrist stirred a strange excitement deep inside him, and unspeakable images flashed through his mind.

"You’re amazing. I work out too, but my grip strength is nowhere near yours."

Hearing this, Blair glanced at his physique. Even through the heavy winter clothes, she could tell he was well-built. The next second, she asked directly, "Can I see your abs?"

The guy was slightly taken aback, not expecting Blair to be so direct. After all, most of the girls he’d been with were the shy type. They wouldn’t just ask to see his abs; even if he lifted his own shirt, they would cover their faces and shriek, too embarrassed to look.

This sudden forwardness made his heart race.

’Forward is good. Forward is great!’

"S-Sure!"

The guy smiled, rolling up his shirt to reveal a set of clearly defined abs. Blair reached out and poked them. They felt pretty good.

"Not bad. They’re not just for show."

"You’re definitely more of an expert than me. Maybe you could give me some pointers sometime?"

Estelle Goodman, watching from across the table, saw this, her eyes wide with shock.

’This is a coffee shop! He’s just flashing his abs like that?’

Seeing her reaction, the guy next to her immediately asked, "You like abs? I have them too. Want to see?"

Estelle covered her flushing cheeks with both hands, looking shy and embarrassed, but her body betrayed her as she nodded honestly. "I do!"

Without hesitation, the guy lifted his shirt. A light instantly shone in Estelle’s eyes as her small hand slowly reached out to touch them.

"Big sis, I have them too!"

Not to be outdone, the "little bro" next to Jane Sterling also generously showed off his.

Seeing all three of his buddies flashing their abs for the girls next to them, Henry Marshall was dumbfounded.

’What is going on?’

’Is this right?’

’Has anyone considered my feelings? I’m already sitting on pins and needles here! What am I supposed to do?’

Henry Marshall mustered up his courage and turned his head slightly to look at Cecilia Sterling. She was sipping her coffee, but felt his gaze and shot him a sideways glance.

He blinked and said in a low voice, "I actually have them too. Do you want to—"

"No," Cecilia Sterling cut him off mercilessly.

"Oh. Sorry." Henry Marshall quickly lowered his head and sat up straight again.