Page 11 of Rejected Plus-Size Mate

“That’s what I want, too!”

“Because your alpha told you to!”

“No, Leslie, I—”

“Stop!” I bury my face in my hands.

I fucking hate you!

“I don’t want to upset you,” he says quietly. I hold my breath, trying not to sob.

I love you. God fucking help me, I love you.

I keep my eyes squeezed shut for a moment, willing the tears away and keeping my hands over my face. When the trembly feeling inside my chest goes away, I sit back up to face Kyle.

His expression is completely closed, his eyes hard. Even though this hurts, I’m relieved. He’s obviously not going to try to convince me of his good intentions. I just can’t take any more lies.

“Let’s just treat this as it is,” I say softly. “It’s a business contract, nothing more. I don’t need any explanations from you. Let’s just get this done.”

I see a shimmer in his beautiful eyes, as if he has a lot more to say. Thankfully, he just nods.

I hear footsteps behind me and look up to see Gladys.

“We’ve decided to have a little sitdown,” she says. “The diner is pretty quiet, and I’ve got some fresh cakes and sandwiches up. Do you guys mind moving to a bigger table? That way, we can all talk.”

I nod, still staring at Kyle. “That sounds good,” I answer.

“Yes, I think so, too,” Kyle agrees.

Sitting at a table with the others will make this entire situation much more bearable. Then I can focus on this being pack business and stop thinking about the gaping wound inside me.

The wound he made when he tore my fucking heart in two.

We both get up slowly and move to one of the bigger tables. For a brief moment, Kyle is right in front of me. I drop back so there is no chance of our bodies accidentally touching.

Oh, glory to God, what the fuck am I going to do?

His tight ass is strapped firmly into tight jeans. The denim flexes across his thick, muscular thighs with every step. He takes his jacket off right at that moment, and I see his toned waist and upper body. When his t-shirt slips out from the waistband and reveals a strip of pale skin, my tongue creeps up to the edge of my mouth.

I am painfully, powerfully turned on. I have been from the moment I walked in, but now it’s raging through me, and I can’t hold it back. All those nights missing him, longing for him, fantasizing about him… and now, here he is, right in front of me, close enough to touch—

My hand has risen, all by itself, and I have to grab it and press both hands against my body to keep them safe. I swallow hard, trying to look away from him, but I can’t.

I used to imagine him so vividly that it was almost like he was still with me, but all that time, I really thought I would never see him again. I’ve managed to hold it together so far, but my body is clamoring now, and I can’t ignore it.

I have to! Don’t give him the satisfaction!

He sits down at the table, and when most of his body sinks out of sight, I calm down a bit. Then he puts his hands on the table, flexing his knuckles. His shoulders bulge, and I see the beautiful patterns of his tattoos winding down from his biceps to his wrists.

Jesus holy fuck.

“Where would you like to sit, Leslie?” Gladys asks.

For a moment, I’m stuck with panic. I can’t sit next to him—I’ll end up touching him. I shouldn’t sit across from him, then I’ll just be staring at him the whole time.

“I’ll just sit here.” I throw myself down at a corner seat, not directly near Kyle. I look down into my lap, trying to quiet my wildly beating heart.

I hate this, I hate this!

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