Page 15 of Rejected Plus-Size Mate

She shakes her head, making her honey-colored curls shiver across her shoulders. “There is no way you’ve beencelibate for, like, a year,” she says. “No fucking way. If you’re going to lie, at least make it believable.”

“I’m not lying!” My voice comes out in a rush. “If you would just listen—”

“I’m done,” she says, turning around and waving a hand. She grabs the bottle of champagne and a glass as she heads for the bathroom. “I’m going to take a nice long soak in the huge tub. You amuse yourself however you want.”

“Fine!” I yell as she slams the door. I’ve never been so frustrated in my entire life, and it’s not just the fight.

It’s the fact that this luscious, amazing woman is now carefully unwrapping that beautiful blue gown from her stunning, mouth-watering body and I’m stuck on the wrong side of the damn door.

Chapter 6 - Leslie

The next morning, we head back to Silver Meadows in Kyle’s truck. I already made arrangements with my parents to have my furniture cleaned out and moved to Kyle’s place. Most of my clothes and personal stuff should be there later today.

It was nice of my parents to do that much. It’s not like they’ve ever helped me out before.

It’s not like my parents were abusive—quite the opposite. They wanted me to become “something” and pushed me hard. My inability to excel the way they wanted me to left me constantly feeling like a failure. Working in Gladys’s diner was seen as the ultimate embarrassment.

They are more than happy to marry me off, especially if it will elevate their social status, even just a little.

I can’t shake off my bad mood, and I don’t see why I should even try. Kyle keeps his eyes on the road and doesn’t look over at me. After he tried to say good morning and all I did was growl in response, he hasn’t tried again.

The champagne went down easy but left me with a decent hangover. I finished the bottle while I was in the bath, helped myself to some food, and then curled up in bed with Kyle. The bed was so big, I felt like I was all alone in it.

I was.

We hit the Silver Meadows outskirts, the main mountains of the range dominating the sky. The place is always breathtaking, an awesome display of nature’s power. My headache lifts a little.

Then we turn into the outer streets, and I feel my stomach twist. I met Kyle at his place a lot. It’s conveniently outside the main part of town, so there wasn’t much risk that we’d get seen.

As we pull into the driveway, nostalgia hits me, and it’s so strong, I feel like I’ve slipped through time. This moment is almost identical to those I lived through over a year ago. My emotions try to rise in response.

I was always so excited to be here. I couldn’t wait to see him. I’d rush out of my car, and he’d meet me on the stoop—

“Are you alright, Leslie?” he asks.

I nod, not looking at him. Instead, my eye is drawn to the ring on my finger. This one tiny thing makes all the difference now. No matter how familiar these memories seem, everything has changed.

I jump down from the truck, carefully sweeping aside my skirts so I don’t trip. I didn’t have anything else to wear except my wedding dress. I walk towards the house and then pause at the bottom of the steps, staring at the door. I dreamed of this moment so many times.

He’d sweep me up into his arms and carry me across the threshold, both of us laughing and happy. I saw it over and over again.

Kyle moves around me, jumps up the steps, and unlocks the door. He gestures inside with one hand.

“Come in, Leslie. I got some keys cut for you already, and some boxes of your things have already been delivered. I just left them in the living room.”

I just nod, walking slowly up the steps and into the hall. It seems so ridiculous that he is formally inviting me into hishome, when for a good few months, it was practically my home, too.

The nostalgia I felt outside increases tenfold the second I walk into the living room. It’s so strong that goosebumps prickle up and down my spine. His big, old stuffed couch covered in gray wool blankets, the velvet green armchair, the faded red checkered rug…

Everything is exactly the same. It’s like he hasn’t even been here for the last year.

“Do you want some coffee or something?” Kyle asks. He’s behind me, and I don’t bother to turn around. I just shake my head.

I hear his footsteps slowly move away. It’s an old house, made of rough wooden planks that creak with their own individual notes. It was built in a time when everyone made things to their own design, and everything had unique character.

I’ve always loved it so much.

Looking around at the paneled walls and high-steepled ceiling, I have to admit, I still love it. An impish smile creeps onto my face as I realize I can now indulge my dreams of decorating it.

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