Cecilia’s pov
Sebastian arched one perfectly judgntal brow at my "lost contact lens" excuse, clearly unconvinced.
Harper gawked at like I’d just betrayed the sisterhood.
"Oh my God,"she hissed through gritted teeth. "That’s your excuse? Really? What am I even supposed to do with that? You couldn’t co up with ’sudden migraine’ or ’temporary blindness’?"
Before I could respond, she pivoted toward Sebastian and gave a sigh so theatrical it deserved its own spotlight.
"Our Cecilia here,"she began, all faux concern and fluttering lashes, "suffers from a tragic combination of nearsightedness and premature presbyopia. It’s very rare... very sad. She can barely see her own fingers at night, let alone assess anyone’s, uh, anatomical assets."
I pressed my lips together and stared at my beer bottle like it might open up and swallow whole.
Fine. If pretending to be blind was the only way to survive this social torture, then consider blind as a bat.
Sebastian leaned back in his chair, arms folded, expression unreadable.
Out on the balcony, Levan was still blissfully unaware that he’d triggered sothing nuclear. Shirtless, barefoot, wind tousling his hair like he was in a cologne ad.
He looked young, effortless, annoyingly carefree.
Sawyer muttered, "Youth’s wasted on the young," then made the mistake of glancing at Sebastian.
Harper tried to smooth it over. "Please, Beta Sawyer. You’re also hot. Grown-man hot, very sexy."
Sebastian didn’t respond. His gaze flicked back to the balcony, jaw tight.
Tang, blissfully oblivious to the tension inside, had joined Levan outside for what appeared to be an impromptu shirtless bro session.
"Levan , you’ve got show muscles. No power." Tang flexed like he was auditioning for a protein powder ad. "Now these? These are real."
"Whoa," Levan said, eyes wide. "How do you train?"
"I’ll take you rock climbing. Best damn workout you’ll ever get."
"Yeah, hard pass."
"What? You scared? A real man pushes his limits."
Harper leaned casually against the doorway like she was watching her favorite soap opera and waved her wine glass toward the balcony. "Cece, look at them out there. They’re adorable."
Then she added, as if just rembering, "Oh wait - right. You can’t see anything."
He just turned to Sawyer and said, "Have Tang take Levan down to buy fruit."
Sawyer blinked. "Fruit?"
"They can practice their rock climbing on the way."
No raised voice. No drama. But the command landed like a guillotine.
Sixty seconds later, both of them were re-shirted and out the door like two teenagers being escorted on a chaperoned errand.
I didn’t dare look at Harper.
I could already feel her smug energy radiating from across the room.
Sebastian picked up his glass, took a slow sip, and didn’t say another word.
-
By 9 PM, our dinner party finally wrapped up.
I offered to help Harper with the dishes as Sebastian, Sawyer, and Tang prepared to leave.
Sebastian didn’t comnt on my staying behind, just nodded.
After we finished washing up, Harper dragged into her bedroom for an interrogation.
"What’s going on between you and Sebastian?" she demanded, waggling her eyebrows suggestively. "Have you two...?"
I kept my expression perfectly neutral. "What? Harper?"
Harper backed up, studying with narrowed eyes.
She focused on my unusually high-necked outfit and the foundation I’d carefully applied to my neck.
"Take off your shirt if you’ve got nothing to hide," she challenged.
"Levan is still here!" I clutched my chest protectively. "Behave yourself!"
"Cecilia, you’re being dishonest!"
"I’m not, really!"
"Don’t lie to ," Harper insisted. "Body language doesn’t lie. You two are definitely closer than before. When he put his hand on your waist earlier, you didn’t even flinch. You won’t even tell , your best friend?"
I backed away, deflecting. "That’s ridiculous! I thought it was your hand! And I might have had a bit too much to drink, so my reactions were slow..."
With that weak excuse, I bolted toward the door. "Harper, I need to go. See you!"
I escaped quickly. The evidence on my body was too damning to risk exposure.
-
Stepping out of Harper’s apartnt, I realized I couldn’t drive after drinking.
I pulled out my phone to call a rideshare, when suddenly the streetlight above darkened.
I sighed softly, clutching my phone."Still here, I see," I said pre-emptively as I turned around.
Sure enough, there stood Sebastian.
"My secretary’s vision is so poor," he said with mock concern. "How could I possibly let her go ho alone?"
I glared at him.
"Here, let guide you. We wouldn’t want you to fall." He extended his palm toward with a perfectly straight face.
After a mont’s hesitation, I placed my hand in his.
Sebastian led forward, his grip gentle but firm.
What started as his larger hand enveloping mine gradually transford into interlaced fingers. The sensation of his skin against mine in those small spaces between fingers sent pleasant tingles up my arm.
The night breeze was making dizzy - or maybe it was sothing else entirely.
After what felt like forever, I had to ask, "Are we... walking all the way ho?"
My legs were aching, and I was reaching my physical limit.
Sebastian looked down at , considering sothing, then stopped to call Tang.
Within seconds, a car pulled up beside us.
Once inside, Sebastian instructed, "Raise the partition."
"That’s not necessary !" I protested.
It was futile. When the Alpha was present, Tang only listened to him.
With a soft chanical hum, the glass slid up, sealing us off like we were in a luxury soundproof confession booth.
Great.
I suddenly beca very aware of how close the leather seats were. Of how small the back of the car felt. Of how his thigh was already brushing mine.
Was he planning sothing? Now? Here? In the car?
My muscles were still sore from... well, we didn’t need to revisit that mory in high-definition. Surely even Alphas had a recovery period.
I shifted away a few inches, trying to pretend I wasn’t thinking about it.
He noticed imdiately. Of course he did.
"What’s wrong?" Sebastian leaned in, his voice low and smooth. "Too warm?"
Before I could answer, his palm pressed lightly against my forehead, fingers cool and steady. Then, with maddening calm, he slid his hand down to cover my eyes.
"Cecilia,"he murmured near my ear, "when will you explain this miraculous blend of nearsightedness and early-onset presbyopia? Truly, it’s a dical marvel."
I swatted his hand away, trying not to inhale his scent - clean cedar and sothing darker, addictive. "Sit like a normal person. You’re crowding ."
He didn’t move back. Instead, he moved .In one smooth motion, he pulled into his lap like it was the most casual thing in the world.
"Better?" he asked, voice all faux innocence.
I froze, biting my lip. My brain short-circuited.
My body didn’t get the mo that we were pretending to have boundaries.
"Relax,"he said gently, guiding my head to his shoulder.
One hand wrapped around my waist, the other began massaging slow, deliberate circles into my lower back.
Moon Goddess.
His hands were too skilled. They had no right being that good.
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