His Plump Mate (Book 1: The 'His' Series) novel Chapter 173

**Chapter 172: Morning Complications**

**Cecilia’s POV**

I was lost in the depths of a dream, my face buried in a pillow, desperately trying to evade the harshness of reality even in my sleep. The serene morning was abruptly shattered by the doorbell’s shrill, intrusive chime, jolting me from my slumber.

My heart raced as I shot up, disheveled and alarmed, my hair resembling a chaotic nest after a storm.

I glanced beside me, my gaze darting toward the door, confusion swirling in my mind.

Who could possibly be visiting at this hour?

Could it be Liam or Sawyer?

“I’ll get it,” Sebastian mumbled, his voice thick with sleep as he began to rise.

“No, you will NOT!” I exclaimed, grabbing his arm with surprising force, pulling him back down. “I’ll handle this. You stay right here in this bedroom, and for heaven’s sake, do not come out, or I’ll—”

The threat fizzled out as I realized just how futile it was to intimidate an Alpha werewolf.

Sebastian leaned back against the headboard, a playful smirk dancing on his lips, looking far too amused for someone who had just spent the night with me. “Or you’ll what, exactly?” he teased, his eyes glinting with mischief.

“Or I’ll be incredibly uncomfortable,” I replied, my voice lacking the conviction I had hoped for.

“Cecilia,” he sighed, his tone shifting to that dangerously smooth, velvety register that sent shivers down my spine. “Be brave. You’re my girlfriend now.”

“Just… please stay here,” I pleaded, my heart racing.

With a sense of urgency, I scrambled out of bed, hastily throwing on enough clothing to avoid any indecency, and made my way to the door.

As I opened it, I was greeted by Liam, impeccably dressed as always, radiating an air of professionalism.

“Morning, Liam,” I said, forcing a smile, trying to mask the chaos of my morning. “What brings you here so early?”

“Miss Moore, it’s not early. It’s nine o’clock,” he replied, his tone matter-of-fact, as if he were stating the obvious.

What?!

My eyes widened in disbelief, horror washing over me.

I awkwardly ran my fingers through my tousled hair, trying to regain some semblance of composure.

“I… overslept,” I admitted, my voice faltering slightly.

Liam handed me two thermal containers, his expression serious.

“The occasional tardiness is excusable,” he said, then gestured toward a clothing rack he had brought with him. “These are Alpha Sebastian’s suits. I’ve pressed them for you.”

I stood there, momentarily stunned, my brain struggling to process the sight of the suits. “…Oh,” was all I managed to say, accepting the containers in silence.

As Liam departed, I leaned my forehead against the door in defeat, expecting the familiar sting of pain, but it never came.

Instead, Sebastian was right behind me, his hand gently supporting my head. “What are you doing? Testing if your skull or the door is tougher?”

I looked up at him, shoving the containers into his hands before retreating back into the apartment, my mind racing.

Nine o’clock. We were both late.

The office gossip mill would be working overtime now—what had once been mere speculation was now a palpable reality.

When I finally emerged from my hurried preparations, I found Sebastian had already changed in the guest bathroom.

He stood there, clad in a perfectly tailored suit, the embodiment of controlled Alpha power and sophistication—every line sharp and every detail meticulously crafted.

Yet beneath that polished exterior, I knew the raw, primal beast that lurked—my body tingled at the memory of our night together.

“Come eat breakfast,” he called, his voice smooth and inviting.

Well, I reasoned, we were already in too deep.

Breakfast wouldn’t make anything worse.

I sat down to the nourishing meal Liam had prepared, my stomach growling in anticipation.

But just two bites in, my mind screeched to a halt, like a car skidding on black ice.

Oh, no. We hadn’t used protection. Again.

And I had already taken emergency contraception just recently…

God, I needed to start thinking with something other than my libido.

“What’s wrong? Are you feeling ill?” Sebastian asked, moving closer, his brow furrowing with genuine concern. “Did I hurt you last night?”

“It’s nothing,” I replied, forcing calm into my voice.

This was partly my fault too. I would figure it out.

A quick trip to the doctor would sort this out.

Sebastian’s frown deepened, but before he could question me further, the apartment door swung open with a loud creak.

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. “Go away.”

“Going,” she sang, heading for the door.

But not before pausing just long enough to throw Sebastian—a figure who had apparently been leaning in the doorway for who knows how long—a conspiratorial wink.

“Alpha,” she said sweetly, before disappearing down the hall.

The silence that followed was heavy and charged, the air thick with unspoken words. I exhaled slowly, finally daring to look up.

Sebastian stood there, arms crossed, his expression unreadable, but his eyes sparkled with that infuriating glimmer of amusement.

“You should go to the office first,” I suggested quietly, my heart racing. “I’ll follow in ten minutes. I need to… run an errand on the way.”

He gave me a look that clearly said, *You really think I believe that?*

But to my relief, he didn’t press the issue.

Ten minutes later, I found myself practically sprinting into a clinic, peppering the doctor with questions about emergency contraception, condoms, and long-term birth control options.

I left with what I mentally labeled my “regret-plus-prevention” package, feeling a mix of anxiety and relief.

And just when I thought I could breathe a little easier, fate decided to intervene once more.

As I descended the stairs, I heard that familiar voice that sent my heart racing and made my soul want to flee:

“So your ‘physical therapy appointment’ was actually in the women’s health clinic?”

I stumbled, nearly dropping my pharmacy bag.

Sebastian stood at the bottom of the stairs, arms crossed over his chest, looking like a prosecutor who had just caught a key witness in a lie.

“I can explain,” I stammered, scrambling for words.

“No need,” he replied, his tone dangerously calm. “You lied. Again.”

I rushed down the remaining stairs and pulled him into the stairwell, away from the reception nurse’s inquisitive gaze.

“I didn’t lie,” I insisted, my voice rising slightly. “I just… didn’t tell the whole truth.”

He laughed coldly, the sound sending a shiver down my spine. “Is this political doublespeak? ‘Strategic omission’?”

I could feel the weight of my choices pressing down on me as I struggled to find a way to explain myself.