"Come in, dear," Fabian called.
My chest fluttered every time he said that. It was just a generic pet name, one he said to everybody, but it still felt good to be called that.
What the hell is wrong with me?I thought.Why am I acting like such a flustered, lovestruck idiot?
The realization dawned on me like a slap in the face. Maybe Iwasa flustered, lovestruck idiot. But that was stupid. I was just me, Stan Smith, the most regular boring omega on the planet. And Fabian was Fabian, a massive celebrity with incredible talent. There was no way in hell he could be interested in a nobody like me.
My face went hot with shame as I stared down at my ratty jeans and old shoes. It was like years of bottled up self-loathing finally bubbled up and overflowed. What was I thinking, dressing like this for Fabian? I looked terrible, and the worst part was that I was doing it on purpose. In hindsight, it was surprising Fabian didn't laugh me out of the studio.
No, he wouldn't do that. Fabian wasn't cruel. In fact, he might've been one of the nicest people I'd ever met in my life.
And handsome. And funny. And charming.
I groaned and slapped my forehead. Shit, I really had fallen for him. When the hell did this happen?Howdid I let this happen?
In my misery, I rested my forehead against the door with athunk. I wanted to bang my head over and over again. This was the whole reason I chose to be ugly.
Because I never wanted to experience the pain and humiliation of rejection again. Going through it once in high school was hard enough. I couldn't do it again, especially with somebody I truly cared about like Fabian. The alphas in high school, they were nothing to me. But Fabian meant something. I didn't want this week to end. I wanted him in my life beyond a silly contest prize.
My weight suddenly gave way as the door swung open and I had nothing to lean on anymore.
"Ah!" I cried as I fell forward—right into Fabian's arms.
And as I did so, my piping hot chai latte spilled all over him. My stomach dropped.
"Stan?" He asked. "What are you doing?"
I was panicking. I tossed the half empty cup aside like it was a bomb. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry, Fabian, are you okay?"
He blinked in confusion. "Yes, I'm fine." He looked down at himself nonchalantly. "Oh, you mean my wet shirt? It's fine, I've got plenty more where that came from."
I was gob smacked. "Fabian, that drink was boiling hot! You might have a burn! We have to run your skin underwater right away!"
Fabian paused then laughed. "Oh, Stan. How sweet are you? Don't worry, I'm totally fine. Look."
Anxiety twisted my chest. As Fabian stripped his shirt off, I expected to see horrible burns marring his skin. But when he took his top off, there was nothing there except latte foam dripping down his pecs.
My jaw dropped. "What—how is that possible? It was hot as hell when Rudy handed it to me two minutes ago!"
"Er, perhaps it cooled off while you were mulling around outside the door?" Fabian suggested.
That wasn't possible. I wasn't zoning out forthatlong. A drink that hot wouldn't have cooled down in such a short period of time. But then, why wasn't Fabian burned? Not that I was complaining, obviously.
Fabian hand waved the situation off. "Enough about me, this is about you, Stan." He grabbed a spare cloth from the table and wiped his chest off, then lazily threw on a loose cardigan that hung off his shoulders, keeping his bare chest exposed. "As you can see, I've created quite the selection for you to choose from. Take your time and pick through them as you see fit."
Still flabbergasted, I followed his hand to where a plethora of outfits were hung on a rack. In my panic about burning him, I hadn't even noticed them.
"Seriously, are you sure you're okay?" I asked. "Normal people don't just… Have burning hot drinks spilled on them and shrug it off."
Fabian put his hand on his hip. "After all the effort I went through to organize these outfits, and I get called abnormal as thanks?"
I threw my arms out. "Come on, you know that's not what I meant."
Fabian grinned. "I'm teasing, Stan. Go ahead, pick an outfit."
I huffed. "You're not gonna let this go until I try one on, are you?"
"Nope."
