Cecilia’s pov
The first thing I noticed was his hand, moving slowly, carefully, putting ointment on the sore spots.
My silk nightgown was bunched around my waist, the black lace underneath barely hanging on. Sebastian’s gaze flicked down, cool and clinical... but with a heat he couldn’t quite hide.
His fingers worked gently, massaging the cream over my skin like I might break. I buried my face in the pillow, equal parts mortified and melting.
What started as first-aid was turning into something else entirely. My breath quickened. My body betrayed me.
"Mmm," I whimpered, the sound muffled in the pillow.
Sebastian paused. Then his touch grew firmer, confident.
A second, sharper moan slipped from me before I could stop it.
Silence.
He wiped his hands, leaned in close, and said near my ear, his breath warm and his voice all low and rough.
"Cece, if you keep making those sounds, this medicine’s going to make things worse, not better."
I whipped my head around to glare at him, face burning. "You’re impossible."
He kissed my earlobe. "We should reapply in a bit."
"Reapply?!"
Now I was bright red. "Just give me the tube. I’ll take it from here."
His smile was maddening. "No need to act shy now."
"Fine. Then I won’t be shy about kicking you out." I pointed to the door. "Go."
Sebastian didn’t budge. "You’ve lost a lot of fluids. I should make sure you stay hydrated. Want water?"
He said it like a doctor, but with the tone of someone who had absolutely no business sounding that calm while referencing last night.
I groaned and rolled back into the pillow fortress.
Sebastian didn’t leave.
He showered, then came back to bed, claiming he needed to provide "around-the-clock care."
He offered to reapply the ointment. Twice. I refused.
Somewhere between protest and exhaustion, I fell asleep.
I woke up later and felt his hands on me again. He was gentle, taking his time, somehow reapplying the ointment without waking me.
No wonder all my dreams were sweaty and full of tangled limbs.
At this rate, I’d be totally exhausted by the end of the week—body and mind.
--
"Is that a cat?"
"Did Cece bring it back from London?"
"Who even brings a cat back across the Atlantic?"
"There’s only one apartment per floor. Whose is it?"
"Maybe she adopted it. Harper, go wake her up—it’s past seven-thirty."
Voices filtered through the bedroom door. Familiar ones.
My parents. Harper.
A wave of panic washed over me. I bolted upright.
"Sebastian, get up!" I shoved his shoulder like my life depended on it.
My body ached in protest, but panic had already overridden every muscle.
He stirred slowly, peaceful like he had nowhere better to be.
Meanwhile, I was calculating how many seconds we had until my mother opened the door and saw me in bed with the man she absolutely shouldn’t know I was sleeping with.
I flopped back onto the bed like a corpse.
Sebastian watched my distressed expression. "Don’t worry. I’ll go talk to her first, give her time to process before you come out."
"No!" I panicked. "You absolutely cannot go out there!"
His eyes darkened, something shuttering behind them. He’d misunderstood.
"I get it," he said, voice cool. "You don’t want to acknowledge what’s happening between us. Just a casual fling that shouldn’t complicate your life."
"That’s not..."
"What if your parents find out and want to talk to me directly?" he challenged.
"They won’t approach you." I tried to sound confident.
"But what if they do?"
"But what if..."
"Why are you inventing scenarios? I said they won’t. My mom will leave soon, I’ll go home tonight, and I’ll figure out a story that doesn’t involve you."
I knew I sounded like every girl trying to pretend last night didn’t happen. That it didn’t mean anything.
I kept looking at the door. Calculating escape routes.
Then his hands cupped my face, forcing me to meet his eyes.
His expression was calm, but the Alpha energy behind it wasn’t.
"Cece," he said, voice low and dangerous, "when are you going to give me a real place in your life?"
I blinked. "Didn’t you say I didn’t have to take responsibility for you?"
"And now you’re planning on never taking responsibility? Just walk away like it meant nothing?"
"That’s not..." I tried to muffle him with my hand. "Why are we doing this now? Keep your voice down!"
What the hell happened to my emotionally detached, overly controlled Sebastian?!

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Loving the story. But only 2 pages a day. 😢...