Filed to story: Watch Out, I’m The Lady Boss (Eleanor & Sebastian) Book PDF Free
He was right, of course.
But knowing something’s right and doing it are two very different things.
It reminded me of this game we used to play at summer camp, some team-building trust exercise.
The coach made us line up in pairs.
First row would fall backwards without looking, and the row behind was supposed to catch them.
Simple.
Terrifying.
I couldn’t do it.
Not even after ages of mental prep.
The girl behind me was one of my best friends, and still, I froze.
What if she blinked and missed?
What if she secretly hated me and this was the perfect chance to let me crash to the ground?
What if she wanted to prank me and pretended to let me fall before catching me last minute?
The more I thought, the more my body locked up.
And this, sitting here with Sebastian, somehow, it brought that whole memory screaming back.
Except now, I wasn’t even facing away.
I was straddling him.
He couldn’t let me fall.
But some irrational part of me whispered: what if he suddenly stood up?
What if I hit the floor? Cracked my head on the coffee table?
I squeezed my eyes shut and told my brain to shut the hell up.
I knew I had trust issues.
I knew Sebastian wasn’t wrong.
Still didn’t mean I could magically flip a switch.
Five minutes passed.
Or five years.
I mumbled into his neck, “Can I get up now?”
“Not yet.”So we stayed there.
He stroked my back gently; he could tell I was still wired tight.
And the longer I stayed, the stiffer I got, until my legs felt like tree trunks and a crick started forming in my neck.
Finally, he said, “That’s enough for today. We’ll pick it up tomorrow.”
“Great!” I launched off him like a spring.
“I’m going upstairs. Night The next night, we kicked off the rehearsal over dinner.
Sebastian sent the staff away at my insistence.
Then, instead of sitting across from me as usual, he slid into the seat beside mine, like we were already at his grandfather’s party playing the happy couple.
He pointed out where people would be sitting, who I needed to watch, which uncle faked being vegetarian to impress his green juice-obsessed wife but secretly smashed steaks like a cave troll, and which one nearly blew up a construction site because-get this-he thought a pile of dynamite looked “fun”..
Also, there was a cousin who might come for my throat because Sebastian had apparently gotten her arrested for reckless driving.
It was the most he’d talked to me since this whole thing started.
And even though his tone was all dry and matter-of-fact, the stuff he said was… weirdly funny.
I found myself loosening up and even occasionally cracking a laugh The rehearsal continued after dinner.
By then, I’d accepted my fate.
It was just hugging, right?
Except this time, Sebastian upped the difficulty level-front hug, side hug, handshakes, air kisses, that dramatic couple’s entrance thing where I was supposed to hook my arm through his and glide in like we hadn’t been awkward strangers a week ago.
And the weirdest part was, it started feeling… normal.
Like, dangerously normal.
Like muscle memory was kicking in.
So much so that when we sat down to take a break, I kinda… passed out.
Yeah. Dead serious. I fell asleep.
On him.
Like full-on napping, face smushed against his shoulder, legs curled up, drooling-on-his-shirt kind of passed out.
I blamed the wine.
When I finally stirred and blinked at the wall clock, it was past ten.
Which meant I’d been out for nearly two bloody hours.
I sat up so fast I nearly gave myself whiplash.
My hair was a mess.
My brain was scrambled eggs.
And I’d just spent two whole hours unconscious in Sebastian’s arms like some love-struck romcom extra.
Kill me now.
What was worse-he’d let me.
He’d just sat there. For two hours.
Letting me sleep on him.
Like we were… that kind of couple.
Nope. Absolutely not.
I swatted those thoughts away like mosquitoes on a humid night.
I sat up properly, fingers combing through my tragic bedhead.
“Think we’re good for today?”
“Yeah.” He leaned back.
“We’ll run it again tomorrow. Dally practice until we meet my grandfather, if it’s okay with you.”
“Cool,” I mumbled, pretending I wasn’t still mentally screaming into the void.
The way the Laurents operated, I wouldn’t be shocked if they held family dinners with lie detectors under the placemats.
Sebastian being the (rumoured) bastard son probably made him a walking target.
No wonder he was so… calculated.”I stood.
“So… dinner and hugs again tomorrow?”I was thinking maybe we should rehearse talking points instead.
Maybe a family cheat sheet, names, ranks, shareholding charts…
“No. Tomorrow we rehearse the kiss.”I froze. Turned slowly.
“Kiss,” I echoed, incredulous.
“As in, kiss kiss?”
“Yes,” he said.
I blinked.
“You mean like… an air kiss?” Hopefully.
“Do couples air kiss?” he countered.
“They do if they’re in France.”He quirked a brow.
“Are you sure the French are only air-kissing and not, say… French kissing?”My soul flat-lined.
“We’re not actually going to French kiss in front of your grandpa, are we? What if he has a stroke?”Sebastian smiled. Just a little, which somehow made it worse.
“No French. Just a kiss. The sort couples do when they’re dating.”Yeah, no big deal.
Just my mouth.
On his.
In front of an ailing patriarch and a family full of snoops.