The Second Life of a Discarded Heiress novel Chapter 81

Citrine watched Sebastian intently, her gaze fixed on every move he made at the claw machine.

If she was counting right, this was already his ninth attempt.

And still, not a single plushie had made it out.

"Want me to give it a try?" Citrine asked, testing the waters.

"Go ahead," Sebastian replied, a little flustered now that even his ears turned red after so many failed tries. Hearing Citrine's suggestion, he quickly slid a game token into the slot for her.

Lining up her shot, Citrine pressed the button with confidence. The very next second, the fox plushie dropped easily from the claw.

"Got it." Citrine's eyes sparkled as she scooped up the toy.

"You're really good at this," Sebastian said, seeing her so pleased, a small smile tugging at his lips.

The way he said her name caught Citrine off guard.

"What? Am I not supposed to call you Citrine?" Sebastian noticed her expression and couldn't help but ask.

"No, it's fine. You can," Citrine stammered. Honestly, he could call her whatever he wanted—as long as she could get on his good side.

It was just that Sebastian suddenly using her name so familiarly took some getting used to.

Since they'd met, aside from exchanging names that first day on social media, neither of them had ever actually called the other by name.

"So, should I call you Sebastian from now on?" Citrine figured that since he was using her name, she couldn't just keep calling him "big brother" all the time—especially since he definitely wasn't her brother.

Sebastian stared at Citrine, then suddenly grinned. "How old are you, anyway?"

"I'll be eighteen soon," Citrine answered, not sure why he was asking but taking the question seriously.

He folded his arms and cocked his head at her. "So, you're seventeen."

He kept going, "I'm twenty. If you call me by my first name, aren't you getting away with something?"

Citrine nodded, strangely convinced by his logic. "Then what should I call you?"

She considered "Mister Sebastian," but that sounded ridiculous—like calling someone "sir" at a bar. No, that wouldn't do.

Only then did Sebastian notice her trembling. Without hesitation, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders.

The biting chill disappeared at once, replaced by the lingering warmth of the jacket's owner.

Citrine glanced up at Sebastian; he was left in nothing but a black t-shirt.

She clutched the jacket tighter and asked, "Aren't you cold? Now that I've got your jacket, what about you?"

"I'm fine. This is nothing," Sebastian replied.

Truthfully, he'd barely notice the cold—he could take a cold shower in this weather and not bat an eye.

They reached the gates of Grandeur Waters, the upscale private villa community, and Sebastian was once again reminded of the vast gulf between their worlds.

He waited until Citrine was safely inside before turning to go, afraid that if he lingered any longer, the insecurities festering inside him would take root.

"Crap," Citrine muttered to herself as she changed clothes upstairs, suddenly realizing Sebastian's jacket was still draped over her shoulders.