Her eyes narrowed at the mention of Luke. She didn’t want to think about what it could mean that this girl was wearing her boyfriend’s clothes. That wasn’t the sort of guy he was. He couldn’t be that sort of person. She would have picked up on that, like she did with most of the other guys. She would have seen something that would have stopped herself from getting any closer. George fisted her hand against her jeans.
Well of course they’re too big they aren’t for you.
She heaved a deep breath. She needed to stay calm, not that it was ever the easiest thing for her to do. And the roiling awful feeling in her stomach was killing her. Oh god she was going to be sick if she was wrong about Luke. And she really hoped she wasn’t. She’d feel like such an idiot if she was.
Stepping away from the washer, she crossed over to the bubbly brunette. Her posture stiff despite her effort to appear less hostile, as she moved. What she was feeling wasn’t jealousy so much as possible betrayal and disbelief. She needed to push that aside, but it was so difficult to do when faced with so much contradictory evidence.
“You need to step back out of his life. I don’t know or care what sort of relationship you had with him in the past but he’s mine. And no amount of running around in his clothes is going to change that. Do you understand?” Okay yes a small amount of jealousy was at play here. But mostly it was anger. And fear.