Page 9 of Rejected Plus-Size Mate

The others stay at the counter as Leslie walks over to me. Gladys gives me a little wave, indicating they want to give us some privacy to talk before the pack listens in on everything.

Nice of them. Of course, no one knows we were actually together.

As Leslie gets closer, my ability to think decreases. Her pale brown hair flows around her shoulders in loose curls, catching the light from the setting sun that angles through the big glass windows. Her lips are deep red and beautifully curved. Her icy eyes appraise me critically as she sits down.

I’m so excited, I can’t even form words. I want to tell her I love her. I want to tell her I can’t wait to marry her.

This is going to be awesome! It’s so fantastic, we’re going to be together!

“So, it’s you,” Leslie says dully. Suddenly, I notice how her mouth is turned down at the edges, and her beautiful eyes aren’t sparkling with fun and mischief as they normally are. Doubt hits me, ringing through my bones.

Doesn’t she want to marry me?

“Leslie, I’m so glad to see you—”

“Well, I’m not happy to see you,” she says firmly. “I don’t think there’s anything to talk about, after last time.”

“What?” I whisper.

“I realize that I have to do this. I’ve been given very little choice. I will do my duty to the pack, whether I like it or not.”

She keeps glaring at me with that still, hard look. I’m so shocked, I can’t even speak.

I should have seen this coming… it should have been obvious to me. She will never forgive me for what I’ve done, and I don’t blame her.

I don’t deserve to be forgiven.

Chapter 4 - Leslie

Kyle is staring at me with a wide-eyed expression. Going by the look on his face, I might have just said I was moving to Tahiti to become a mango farmer. The way the tension in this room is rising, an escape like that doesn’t sound too bad at all.

I keep looking at him, wondering if one of us is going to say anything. He appeared pretty impassive while I was on my way over here, and the fact he hasn’t responded—at all—tells me that he obviously agrees with everything I said.

“I guess we should make the most of it,” I say softly. I just want to break the silence at this point. I don’t understand why he’s just staring at me so intently.

His eyes seem to widen even more, and I hate the way that look cuts into my chest. His eyes are an unbelievable shade of blue-green. Like deep ocean pools, shimmering with sapphire and emerald.

I’ve missed looking into these eyes so much.

I feel a fluttery tremble deep in my chest and lock my jaw, grinding my teeth a little. I will not fucking cry. I won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he hurt me.

While he sits there silently, though, I have very little choice except to check him out. He looks a little leaner, his muscles more pronounced. His square, hard jaw is covered with a decent brush of stubble, and it makes him look rough and dangerous.

He’s wearing a big jacket, so I can’t see any of his tattoos, but I remember what they looked like. And the feeling of his skin as I traced the swirling colors with my fingertips.

Suddenly, he sighs. It’s big enough that I hear it, almost like a horse that got a fright from something. He looks down at the table, then up at me. He’s fidgeting with his fingers a bit, something he only does when he’s really nervous.

“Leslie—”

“No.” I shake my head, still feeling the nasty fluttering feeling in my chest. “I really don’t think there’s anything to talk about.”

I can’t stand to hear him talk about the wedding and our life together. I imagined these things once, in great detail. I was excited for our future.

Until he destroyed it. Smashed it to pieces. A crystal palace broken into shards by his blunt, brutal words.

“No, Leslie, there are things I need to say. I really don’t even know where to start, but—”

“No,” I say again, not necessarily denying him but the entire situation. I can tell by the tone of his voice that none of this is going to be anything I want to hear.

---