"Fine," I muttered. "Keep your secrets."
He grinned wider, like I was deeply amusing to him.
Putting the incredulous situation aside, I tried to focus on the clothes Fabian handpicked for me . I remembered what Rudy said about Fabian staying up all night for my sake, so I tried to focus on it more.
There were so many I didn't know where to start, so I began on one end of the rack and made my way down. To be honest, the outfits weren't that far-fetched. Most of them were down to earth clothes I would actually wear. Yesterday during the brief, Fabian showed me a lot of flamboyant, over-the-top fashion that I wouldn't be caught dead wearing, but now I was starting to think he was just fucking with me.
I fingered a crisp, dark blue pair of jeans and pulled them from the rack. "This is nice."
Fabian brightened. "You like it? There's a shirt next to it that completes the outfit nicely."
I nodded, then pulled out the shirt as well. It was nothing fancy, just a simple white button up, but the fabric was comfortable and soft in my hand. It wasn't like the scratchy, uncomfortable polyester shirts I remembered wearing back when I didn't dress like crap.
"Can I try it on?" I asked.
"Of course!"
I reached for the zipper of my ratty jeans, then paused. I didn't mind stripping in front of Fabian the other day back when I was on the fence about him, but now it felt embarrassing. A wave of self-consciousness hit me. Would he judge how I looked?
No, that's stupid, I thought.He already saw my half naked body before. And he's not that type of person.
I quickly undressed, feeling my face light up like a Christmas tree, then shimmied into the new clothes. The whole time, I was aware of Fabian watching me intently. When I did up the final button, I turned around and spread my arms. "Well? How do I look?"
Fabian radiated joy. He nodded towards the mirror. "I personally think you look stunning. But it's not about what I think. Take a look."
Ididcare what Fabian thought, but I got his point. I approached the mirror then gasped. Seeing my reflection stopped me in my tracks.
"Who the fuck is that?" I blurted out.
Fabian laughed airily as he came up beside me. I tried not to think about how good we both looked standing next to each other in the mirror. "That's you, my dear Stan."
Meeting Fabian's gaze in the mirror, I said, "I... I don't know what to say. I... Thank you, Fabian."
A warm, genuine smile spread across his face. He radiated joy from the inside out—and it wasmewho had caused that.
In an attempt to slow my growing crush on Fabian, I ripped my eyes away from his and stared at myself in the mirror. I shook my head silently, still unable to believe the transformation. Fabian truly was a miracle worker.
And I was in love with him.
Shit.
8
Fabian
Stan was my fated mate.It was a simple as that. Frankly, it was in embarrassment that I'd taken so long to realize it. But standing next to him like this, feeling the tangible wavelength of his happiness, elated me.
I wanted to stay this way forever. The idea of him leaving my life was unacceptable. I wanted to dig my talons into him, hold him close and never let him go.
And to do that, I had to tell him the truth.
Stan trusted me. I knew that the moment he showed up in the studio and allowed me to make him over. I doubted he would let anybody else touch his hair or clothes the way I did, which filled me with smug satisfaction. Stan was mine and I wanted him to know it.
The urge was overwhelming, like a broken, overflowing dam. It was killing me to keep my feelings bottled up for even a second longer.
But with my confession came along an issue—the explanation for the hot coffee fiasco. Stan knew something was up. He was right, of course, when he said normal people couldn't have scalding coffee spilled on them without a reaction. What he didn't know yet was that I wasn't a normal person. Once I confessed that he was my fated mate, I had to come clean about the fact that I wasn't human.
Now the question remained: how the blazes was I going to dump all that information on Stan without freaking him out?
