Epoch (Transcend Duet #2)(20)

I’m fond of blue, but all I can see right now is red.

She pulls a stick of gum out of her pocket and rips half of it off with her teeth and holds the other half up to Griffin’s mouth.

Blazing RED!

I’m ready to pound her into applesauce and drag him by his nuts into the house. The only thing that stops me (other than the fact that she looks like she could kick my ass) is Griffin’s headshake as she tempts him with her gum.

“Your loss. It’s spearmint, your favorite.” She grins at him, shoving the other half into her mouth before glancing back over at me like she forgot I’m here. “Man, I never imagined Griff settling down with a sweet girl like you. Good for you, babe.” She nudges his leg again.

Babe … BABE!?!

My right eye twitches as I try to hear past the pounding in my ears. He doesn’t acknowledge her flirting, but he doesn’t tell her to stop either. And he’s not telling her to get off my bucket. But even worse … I can tell this is a woman who has had sex with my man and therefore I hate her. And I hate him right now too.

Twenty-two was supposed to be my year of maturity. Epic fail. Maybe twenty-three will be my year.

I clear my throat. Griff looks over his shoulder again.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I bite my lips together for a few seconds to even out my breath. “How much longer will you be?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. Do you need something?”

Apple pulls her gum out in a long string, then twists it around her tongue. My gaze ping-pongs between the two of them. I suppose she does look more like the kind of woman who would be with a guy like Griffin. She’s sexy and flirty. Clearly she’s confident. And she has tattoos and rides a motorcycle.

It feels like two against one, so I shake my head. “No,” I murmur, turn, and go back inside the house.

“Hold it together.” I give myself another pep talk as I plop down on the sofa, sucking in a shaky breath. I want to cry and kill something at the same time. Stupid runaway mind. I hate that my brain allowed Nate into it in such an intimate way, but I don’t want in his bed, no matter what crazy things worm their way into my head.

Can Griffin say the same thing about Apple? Does he see her and think of me as this huge mistake? I hate that my list for wanting to be with him goes on to infinity, but I can’t imagine that his list would require more than an index card. Where did I lose my self-esteem? Did I ever really have it?

Confident women are attractive. Griffin’s confident and I find it incredibly sexy. What must he think of this person I’ve become … fumbling around for my sense of true self? I can’t find my footing in this life.

Knock. Knock.

Before I can get to the back door, Apple opens it, peeking her head inside.

“Hey, Griff said there’s beer in the fridge. He only has water in the one in the garage.”

“Oh …” I give her a tight smile as I open the fridge door and grab a bottle from the back that we keep for his parents when they come by. “Here.” I hand her the bottle.

She gives me a cringe kind of smile. “One for Griff too.”

“He doesn’t usually drink.”

She shrugs, biting her plump lower lip. “I asked if he wanted one too, and he said ‘sure.’”

I swallow my anger and open the fridge door again, but the anger won’t go down. It sits in my throat, choking me. “You know what …” I slam the door shut. “Tell Griff if he wants a beer he can come inside and get it himself.”

Apple’s pencil-thin brows draw up to peaks. “O—K.” She backs out, easing the door shut behind her.

He won’t come inside. They’ll probably share the bottle I gave Apple. I’m never kissing him again. I will not touch his mouth after he’s wrapped his lips around the same bottle that she’s had hers.

I rub my temples for a few seconds before uncorking a bottle of red wine and pouring a generous glass.

“To Apple.” I raise my glass toward the door. “The woman I will never be.” Moving my glass to the bottle of wine, I clink it. “And to you, my bitter Merlot, the first bottle of wine I will drink in its entirety out of sheer jealousy.”

I gulp down half the glass, expediting the alcohol to my bloodstream, desperate to slow the circus in my brain and numb the pain in my heart.

An hour or two—who knows—later, I no longer see anything red, except the last few drops of wine in my glass. I didn’t quite drink the whole bottle, but I feel … well, I feel nothing. Maybe a little sad that my fiancé is probably sharing a beer in the garage with his ex-lover named Apple. Unless the beer is gone, then they’re probably sharing other things.

“Well, there’s only one way to find out,” I mumble, standing while the room spins a couple of times. I amble outside to the garage, easing the door open just enough to see them before they notice me. He’s putting away his tools while she leans against his workbench just inches from him, resting her hands on it so her chest is shoved out.

Stupid big tits.

“You should come out to California with me sometime. Creed and Kessler would love to see you. One last hurrah before you get hitched to the beer police. What do you say?”

He closes the top drawer to his tool chest. “Don’t call her that.”

Apple smirks. “You know I’m kidding. She’s just not at all what I imagined you settling for.”