Chapter 4: The Stranger Waiting for Me

Just as I was turning in, my mystery online date sent another photo.

"Babe, look at this bag! I bought it at Tuscany Pack in Italy. Thought of you instantly. I'll give it to you when we meet!"

"Babe, why aren't you replying? Asleep?"

"Babe! Babe! Babe!"

I frowned.

Whoever this guy was, he took over Knox's handle and played the doting boyfriend to perfection.

And he was absurdly generous.

Last month, he sent me a wolf-fang necklace and a full set of La Mer skincare. On Valentine's Day, he sent a massive e-gift card. On ordinary days, coffee and dessert vouchers flooded my inbox.

He knew I was fat, so what was his game?

Was it just the novelty? Seeing how dependent a fat girl could get on him?

I sent him my photo from a year ago.

Two hundred pounds, five-foot-seven. Bulky, bloated, cheeks squishing my eyes into slits.

"This is what I look like. If you can't accept it, let's break up. I don't want to waste your time."

I refused to believe he'd stick around after seeing this.

A message popped back instantly: "Babe is adorable."

Followed by an emoji of a tail-wagging pup.

Me: ???

Was he insane ?!

I typed furiously: "Look closely. I'm two hundred pounds. Fat!"

"I know. I think you're cute. Just make sure you stay healthy, okay? Don't stress over it, babe."

My brow furrowed.

Either he was heavy himself.

Or he had a thing for bigger girls.

I tested the waters: [What do you look like? I've never seen your photo.]

Three photos flashed onto my screen.

Different angles, full body, even a close-up of sculpted abs.

A cold laugh escaped me.

Broad shoulders, narrow waist, ripped serratus muscles. Easily over six-foot-two.

But his face was even more absurd than his physique.

Messy black hair brushed back, exposing a smooth forehead. Light blue eyes like sunlit glacial lakes. Crinkles at the corners when he smiled, radiating the vibrant, wild energy of a young werewolf.

A face made for the cover of a werewolf fashion mag.

Definitely not belonging to a random online date.

Fine.

Not only was he taking someone else's place to date me, he was stealing a model's photos too.

[Just took these. Hair's a mess.]

[Do I pass?]

Whatever.

We'd meet soon anyway.

When the day came, I'd expose his lie myself.

I rolled my eyes, but my fingers tapped out a reply anyway.

[Gorgeous. Unreal looks. Is this really you though? Can't wait to meet you.]

[Me too! :) Oh, when we meet, there's something I need to tell you.]

A cold smirk curved my lips.

Let me guess-he was going to confess the photos weren't him.

I replied: [Okay.]

The moment my flight touched down at Greyhaven International Airport, my phone buzzed.

"Babe, where are you? I'm waiting at arrivals with a bouquet!"

[Image]

"Babe, I'm so nervous. What if you don't like me when you see me ?! "

The photo showed no face, just a massive bouquet of red roses.

I had once mentioned red roses were my favorite.

Alright, points for romance.

My heart softened despite myself.

I suddenly felt that even if he used someone else's pictures, there was no need to make a scene.

We could talk things out in person.

Even if we couldn't stay together, we could start as friends.

After all, over the past three months, he had been genuinely good to me.

When insomnia hit, he stayed on the phone with me until late at night. Even slurring with sleep, he never hung up first.

Holidays or ordinary days, he always found excuses to surprise me.

He knew every preference and dietary limit, tracked my cycle, and understood my stomach aches and low moods better than I did.

At least his tenderness wasn't fake.

So what if he looked average in person?

I dragged my suitcase toward the arrivals hall.

From far off, I spotted the oversized bouquet of red roses.

It practically hid the man behind it.

Yet his silhouette was unmistakable-broad shoulders, narrow waist, long legs, towering over the crowd.

Maybe he was just great body, ugly face?

I refused to believe he actually looked like those photos!

Growing restless, he peeked out from behind the roses, eyes searching frantically.

My eyes widened in shock!

Impossible!

He looked exactly like the photos.

In person, he was even more striking!

The crisp, vibrant scent of a young werewolf washed over me across the crowd-like sun-warmed cedarwood in a winter forest, laced with fresh citrus.

My heart skipped a beat.

A few young girls had gathered around him, drawn by his looks, trying to strike up a conversation.

He just clutched the roses tight, eyes darting back to the exit, anxious.

I dragged my luggage over, speaking with a mixed expression, "Are you-"

I thought seeing my face would trigger at least a glimmer of surprise.

Instead, he frowned, eyeing me with polite detachment.

"Can I help you?"

I tilted my head slightly, holding up my phone. "Who are you waiting for? Want to exchange socials?"

Cold indifference washed across his face.

"I'm waiting for my girlfriend. Not interested."

I was stunned.

Ever since I lost the weight, no man had ever treated me this coldly.

Seeing me linger, impatience flickered in his eyes.

"Look, I'm really not interested."

"My girlfriend will be here any second. Please don't give her the wrong idea."

I couldn't help sighing.

"Hey. It's me, Princess Nut."

"What nut-" He snapped his mouth shut, scanning me up and down, eyes practically popping out.

"You? Nut ?! "

"No way! Absolutely impossible! You don't look like this, you're not-"

"Fat and ugly?" I finished his sentence, explaining, "I lost weight."

"Or do you only like chubby girls?"

The guy who was cold and impatient a second ago instantly turned bright red.

"No, I didn't-I mean, you were cute before too! Not ugly at all, I-"

"So am I cute now?" I suddenly found him amusing.

"No! Cute now too! Gorgeous, beautiful! I just ... didn't expect this!"

He shoved the bouquet straight into my arms.

The flowers were surprisingly heavy. Caught off guard, I stumbled forward.

His expression shifted instantly as he reached out to catch me.

The next second, I crashed right into his chest.

The instant skin touched skin, a jolt of electricity exploded between us.

All chaotic scents in the crowded terminal vanished.

I smelled only him-cedarwood, citrus, and deep down, that warm, intimate scent that was uniquely his.

The wolf inside my chest snapped her head up, rearing to break free.

I heard her clear, sharp whisper.

"Mate."

He looked down at me, his voice softening into velvet: "You okay, babe?"