Page 135 of Closer

“Yes?”

“Do you think they’ll actually come?”

“Relax. It’s going to be okay.” His hand lands on the small of my back, his fingers tracing soothing patterns.

“Is it? They hate each other. You saw how your father reacted.” I bite my lip.

“Lil.” His hands cup my face, tilting it up to his. “Look at me.”

I do. “What if they see us together? Oh, what if they already know? They know, but I didn’t tell them. We didn’t even make it official official, like—”

He places his lips on mine, shutting me up. It’s soft and slow, and he’s taking his time, erasing any remaining concerns before breaking away.

“Calmed down?” he asks.

I nod, slowly opening my eyes to meet his.

“It’s going to be okay, princess. I’m right here with you. Don’t overthink this.” He draws me into a hug. “Let’s join our friends, okay?”

“Actually, I… I need to powder my nose. Meet you there?”

“You sure everything is okay?”

I put on my happy face, which he’ll probably see right through, but I need to hide. “Yes.”

“Fine. But call me if anything is wrong.”

“I will.”

Reluctantly, he lets go of my hand, and I hurry into the ladies’ room.

I brace my hands on the counter, and pore over my reflection in the mirror. You’ve got this. What’s the worst that could happen?

A… hateful look, but ignoring each other? An argument? A fight?

Deep breath.Okay, Lil, you can do this. It’s just brunch with the families, right? No big deal.

Except it is a big deal. A very big deal. Because, let’s be real, the Barrons and the Edmunds? They’re all going to be in the same room, breaking bread together like some sort of twisted modern-day version of the Capulets and Montagues.

Oh god, they probably already know about Sebastian and me. I mean, how could they not? That damn picture of us kissing was splashed across every tabloid in the city. The rakish lord caught in a passionate embrace with the innocent young lady. Except I’m not exactly innocent, and Sebastian is no real lord.

But still, the parallels are there. The forbidden love, the feuding families, the societal expectations. It’s like I’m living in one of those novels.

And now, with Sloan inviting my family to this brunch, it’s like she’s playing the role of the meddling matriarch, trying to broker peace between the warring factions. Will it work? Can years of bad blood andresentment really be wiped away with a few mimosas and some small talk?

I can picture it now—my uncle glaring daggers at John across the table, several passive-aggressive comments, and Sloan trying to keep the conversation light and airy while the tension thickens like clotted cream.

And then there’s Sebastian and me, caught in the middle of it all, our relationship on display for everyone to judge and scrutinize.

It’s enough to make a girl want to flee the scene, to hop on the nearest horse-drawn carriage and ride off into the sunset. But I can’t do that. Sebastian has the keys, and quite frankly, I’m scared to drive that car. It’s too fast.

I’ll channel my inner Elizabeth Bennet, hold my head high, and face whatever comes my way. Yes.

No. I’m not her…

This isn’t a novel. This is my life. And I’m not some debutante. I’m a grown-ass woman who shouldn’t have to hide from her own family.

Yet, here I am, hiding in the bathroom like a coward. Because I know what’s waiting for me out there. The looks of disappointment. The whispered judgments. The endless questions about what the hell I’m doing with Sebastian Barron, of all people.

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