<h4>Chapter 315: Chapter 315 Mixed Signals</h4>


    Cecilia’s pov


    I clutched my shopping bag tighter and stormed along the corridor, trying to put as much distance as possible between me and Sebastian’s overbearing family.


    Seriously, who gave Luna Regina the right to n my calendar like I was some intern she could boss around?


    Sebastian caught up faster than I expected. His long-legged Alpha stride was absurdly unfair.


    Before I could protest, he gently but firmly steered me into his study, shutting the door behind us with a soft click that sounded far too intimate.


    "My mother rarely takes an interest in anyone," he said, his voice dropping to that low, velvety register that always messed with my resolve. "Colorado Springs is beautiful. We’ve been there before. You could think of it as a little getaway."


    "A getaway?" I scoffed, spinning to face him. "More like a setup."


    Just hearing the words "Colorado Springs" made my pulse spike.


    That ce was turning into ground zero for everything I didn’t want to deal with.


    I swatted at him with my shopping bag. "I’m not going."


    Sebastian stepped in close. His arms slid around my waist, and I hated how good it felt. His eyes locked on mine, serious now.


    "Cece," he said, using that voice he always used when he wanted me to take him seriously. "This is work. I need to close that deal, and I need my secretary there. Simple as that."


    I looked at him. "So you want your secretary , girlfriend, and emotional support human all in one convenient package?"


    He chuckled, then touched my jaw, softer than I expected. "Maybe I just don’t want to lose you. Maybe I’m scared you’ll leave."


    That caught me off guard. He actually meant it.


    It wasn’t just maniption. He was nervous. Genuinely afraid of losing me.


    Damn it. Why did I always fold when he got vulnerable?


    I didn’t pull away. I couldn’t. Instead, I locked my gaze on the sharp line of his jaw, refusing to meet those eyes that always saw too much.


    My breath hitched as he closed thest bit of distance.


    His hands slid from my waist down to cup my ass, pulling me flush against him.


    I could feel the hard line of his cock already straining against his cks, a relentless pressure against my stomach. "Sebastian..." I started, but the protest died in my throat.


    He saw I wasn’t pulling away and leaned in, kissing me soft and slow.


    His lips were warm, his tongue teasing against mine, and I hated how fast my resistance dissolved.


    My hands came up to fist in his hair as the kiss turned hungry.


    He walked me backward until the edge of his massive desk hit the back of my thighs.


    I kissed him back, heat building by the second, my fingers curling into his shirt like they had a will of their own.


    The kiss deepened, turned greedy. One moment I was standing, the next, I was on his desk, blouse half undone, his hands warm against my skin.


    Reality hit like a p.


    I grabbed his wrist. "Sebastian," I whispered, breathless. "This is your study."


    He didn’t miss a beat. "Then let’s go to my bedroom."


    His voice was rough, all gravel and hunger. He leaned in again, but I pressed my palm to his mouth.


    He didn’t pull away from my hand. Instead, his tongue licked a slow, wet stripe across my palm, his eyes locked on mine, dark and full of filthy intent.


    "I... my period’s about to start."


    Not a total lie. Just a preemptive strike.


    The way he got when he was worked up? I couldn’t handle that on a good day. Especially not when I was hormonal and one sneeze away from crying.


    His eyes, dark with need, cleared a bit. He paused, reading me, then slowly pulled back.


    "That exins it," he murmured. He reached for my blouse and began to rebutton it with unexpected gentleness. His fingers brushed my corbone as he worked, sending shivers down my spine.


    "I’ve been noticing your scent’s changed," he said, almost to himself. "At first, I thought you’d switched perfume."


    He ced a hand over my lower stomach, not possessive, just... gentle.


    "Now I get it."


    I gave him a weak smile. "Your nose is freakishly good. You should’ve been a bloodhound."


    He chuckled softly, but didn’t press.


    I slipped off the desk and took a careful step back.


    My gazended on the desk. Polished mahogany. Obscenely expensive.


    And definitely not meant for whatever we almost started.


    Sebastian caught the nce. He leaned in close again, voice low and wicked against my ear. "It was just convenient, not nned. But if you’re curious, next time we could..."


    "Too hard," I cut him off before he could finish. "Not exactly ergonomic."


    Hisugh was quiet and intimate. "Liar."


    We stared each other down, neither of us moving.


    I pointed at him, calling bullshit on the whole clean-cut Alpha vibe.


    He just smirked.


    I picked up my bag, tampons and all, and turned away.


    I needed to leave before I forgot why I came to my senses in the first ce.


    --


    I took a long, hot shower and slipped on a pantyliner, just in case. My period was due any minute, and thest thing I wanted was a surprise on someone else’s sheets. Sebastian’s guest bathroom could’ve been a spa. Fluffy towels, fancy soap, and a whole shelf of stuff for women.


    Either he was considerate, or he had way too much time on his hands.


    As I slid between the cool sheets of his absurdly luxurious bed, I found myself rethinking the Colorado Springs trip.


    If I went with Sebastian on the fourteenth, it’d be the perfect excuse. No awkward dinner with the Lockes, no fake smiles, and no pretending I could actually breathe around them.


    Business trip with my boss? Totally valid excuse.


    Maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing.


    With thatforting thought, I finally closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep.


    Morning came way too fast. Sunlight spilled through the curtains I forgot to close and pulled me out of sleep. Still half-asleep, I shuffled to the bathroom and sat down, expecting everything to be normal.


    But when I checked, the pantyliner was clean.


    Nothing.


    No period. No spotting. Not even a hint.


    I stared at the tiled floor for a second, brain still booting up.


    My cycle was usually like clockwork. Sure, it shifted by a day or two sometimes, but never more than that.


    And this? This felt off.


    I swapped it for a fresh one, just in case. Maybe it was stress. Maybe travel had thrown things off. Or maybe I was just being paranoid.


    Either way, I’d need to pay attention over the next day or two.


    And try not to spiral.