**Chapter 162: Night Whispers**
Cecilia
Sebastian raised a single, impeccably arched eyebrow at my feeble excuse about a “lost contact lens,” his skepticism practically radiating from him. The air between us felt charged, a silent challenge hanging in the balance.
Harper stared at me, her mouth agape as if I had just committed a grave betrayal against the sisterhood we had sworn to uphold.
“Oh my God,” she spat out, her voice barely above a whisper but laced with incredulity. “That’s your excuse? Seriously? What am I supposed to do with that? You couldn’t think of something more believable, like ‘migraine aura’ or ‘sudden-onset snow blindness’?”
Before I could muster a response, she turned sharply toward Sebastian, letting out a dramatic sigh that could have earned her an award for best supporting actress.
“Our Cecilia here,” she began, her tone dripping with faux sympathy and exaggerated fluttering of her lashes, “suffers from a tragic combination of nearsightedness and premature presbyopia. It’s a rare condition, truly devastating. She can barely see her own fingers at night, let alone evaluate anyone’s, um, anatomical assets.”
I pressed my lips together, my gaze fixated on the beer bottle in my hand as if it might magically open up and swallow me whole.
Fine. If pretending to be blind was my escape from this social firing squad, then I was ready to channel my inner Helen Keller.
Sebastian leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, his expression inscrutable, a fortress of calm.
Out on the balcony, Levan remained blissfully unaware that he had set off a nuclear reaction inside. Shirtless and barefoot, the wind tousled his hair as if he were posing for a cologne advertisement.
He looked effortlessly young, annoyingly carefree, radiating a charm that was both captivating and infuriating.
“Youth’s wasted on the young,” Sawyer muttered under his breath, but then made the mistake of glancing at Sebastian.
The look he received in return? Lethal. It was the kind of glare that screamed, “You’re one heartbeat away from being reassigned to Antarctica.”
Harper, ever the peacemaker, attempted to smooth things over. “Come on, Beta Sawyer. You’re what, ten years older than my brother? That’s hot. Grown-man hot. Suits, stability, taxes—very sexy.”
Sebastian remained silent, his gaze shifting back to the balcony, his jaw clenched tightly.
Meanwhile, Tang, blissfully ignorant of the tension brewing inside, had joined Levan for what seemed to be an impromptu shirtless bro session.
“Levan, you’ve got show muscles. No power,” Tang declared, flexing as if auditioning for a protein powder commercial. “Now these? These are the real deal.”
“Whoa,” Levan exclaimed, his eyes widening. “How do you train?”
“I’ll take you rock climbing. Best damn workout you’ll ever get,” Tang replied, his enthusiasm palpable.
“Yeah, hard pass,” Levan shot back, shaking his head.
“What? You scared? A real man pushes his limits!” Tang challenged, a playful grin on his face.
Harper leaned casually against the doorway, as if she were watching her favorite soap opera unfold. She waved her wine glass toward the balcony. “Cece, look at them out there. They’re adorable.”
Then, as if a lightbulb had gone off in her head, she added, “Oh wait—right. You can’t see anything.”
Sebastian turned to Sawyer, his tone cool and commanding. “Have Tang take Levan down to buy fruit.”
Sawyer blinked, momentarily taken aback. “Fruit?”
“They can practice their rock climbing on the way,” Sebastian stated matter-of-factly.
No raised voices, no drama. But the command landed like a guillotine, slicing through the air with precision.
Sixty seconds later, both of them were re-shirted and out the door, looking like two teenagers being escorted on a chaperoned errand.
I didn’t dare look at Harper.
I could practically feel her smug energy radiating from across the room, a tangible force that pressed against me.
Sebastian picked up his glass, took a leisurely sip, and fell silent once more.
–
By the time the clock struck 9 PM, our dinner party had finally come to a close.
I offered to help Harper with the dishes as Sebastian, Sawyer, and Tang prepared to leave.
Sebastian didn’t comment on my decision to stay behind; he simply nodded, his expression still unreadable.
Once we finished washing up, Harper seized the opportunity and dragged me into her bedroom, ready for an interrogation.
“What’s going on between you and Sebastian?” she demanded, her eyebrows waggling suggestively. “Have you two…?”
I maintained a perfectly neutral expression, refusing to give anything away. “Two what? What are you trying to say?”
Harper stepped back, her narrowed eyes scrutinizing me as if I were an open book.
Her gaze landed on my unusually high-necked outfit and the foundation I had meticulously applied to my neck.
“Take off your shirt if you’ve got nothing to hide,” she challenged, her tone daring.
“Levan is still here!” I exclaimed, clutching my chest in mock horror. “Behave yourself!”


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