As I sauntered along, I admitted to myself that it bothered me a lot more than I wanted it to when I saw Chuck with other men. At the same time, I knew I was being a hypocrite. How could I be jealous when I knew there was no hope of anything lasting? And that I shouldn’t want it? The heart had its own way of doing things, I supposed.
When I finally reached my two-bedroom house on Bell Lane, I saw a familiar SUV in front of the gate. What the hell was Chuck doing here? He’d driven me home in the past, but he’d never been inside. We’d typically spent our time together at his place. It was much nicer there, anyway.
I walked up to the tinted passenger window and knocked. It rolled down, and then I realized that the same guy Chuck had been snuggling up to at the store earlier in the day was sitting next to him.
I stepped back. “Chuck, what’s going on?”
“Hey, Evie, this is Brandt.” Why was he using his pet name for me in front of this guy?