Blitz (Blast Brothers #3) - Sabrina Stark Page 0,60

looked back to Chase, he was frowning like he wasn't any happier to see Ginger than I was.

I couldn’t exactly blame him, considering that he was probably pressed for time.

But there was nothing I could do about it now – or at least, nothing that wouldn't cause a giant scene. Quickly, I assured him, "It won't take long. I promise."

I only prayed that I was telling the truth. After all, I'd already broken one promise today and hated the thought of breaking another, especially with the same person.

Earlier in the car, I'd promised to tell Chase what I'd been thinking.

And what had I given him?

A weather report.

A very long and rambling weather report.

But with all of the crazy naked thoughts bouncing around in my brain, the weather had been my only safe option.

Safe.

There was that word again. Today, it was chafing like a bloody blister.

Finally, Chase gave a single nod. "If you need me, just holler."

A minute later, I felt like hollering, alright – but out of frustration, not true need.

And why? It was because Ginger wasn't alone. She was with her daughter – the one with the yoga studio, the one who'd been the Tomato Queen while I'd been runner-up, and the one who'd stolen Bryce out from under me.

As far as Bryce, I meant that literally. I'd given him my virginity. And what had Emory given him? A week of sun and sex at her mom's condo in Florida.

At the sight of Emory, I stopped just past the open kitchen doorway and tried not to curse out loud. Emory was standing near the sink, wearing a slinky red dress that seemed terribly out of place in the commercial country kitchen.

Her long dark hair was piled high on her head, and she was wearing lots of jewelry and very high heels. With a little smirk, she said, "I see you've been busy."

If she meant busy kicking myself for not recalling that I'd heard multiple voices upon entering the hall, she was absolutely right.

I should've taken a moment to consider that Ginger wasn't alone. And then, I should've taken an extra moment to consider that her companion just might be Emory, the gift that kept on giving.

Like Herpes.

I gave Emory a stiff smile. "I see you've been busy, too." I wasn't even sure what I meant – busy starting a new business or busy popping up at the worst possible times.

You know, like the aforementioned social disease.

In reply, she cocked a hip and said, "Don't you know it."

I knew something, alright. If I were the type to rip out a liver, I'd go straight for hers. Suddenly, I was almost wishing my dad did have hogs. You know, just in case.

I turned back to Ginger and asked, "So, what did you want to talk about?"

With a brittle smile, she replied, "You."

"Me? What about me?"

Her chin lifted. "You owe me an apology."

Seriously? But of course, I knew what she meant. More than a month had passed since Ginger had started that rumor about me losing the bank's sponsorship.

Okay, so the rumor had been true, but at the time, I'd been working like crazy to solve the problem.

And besides, why should I apologize for her blabbiness?

I crossed my arms. "Oh, really? An apology for what?"

"Your mother was very upset with me."

Yes. She had been. Apparently, my mom had given Ginger a blistering talking-to for gossiping about her daughter – meaning me, of course.

For this, I was deeply sorry.

But I'd already apologized.

To my mom.

Not to Ginger.

And my mom, in turn, had apologized to Ginger for calling her a "shameless busybody." Now, the way I saw it, everyone who deserved an apology had already gotten it – unless Emory wanted to apologize to me for screwing my boyfriend.

Stiffly, I told Ginger, "I'm sorry to hear that."

I meant it, too. I was incredibly sorry that my mom had gotten upset. And now, if Ginger wanted to take my latest statement as an apology to herself, she could.

Or not.

Either way, that was as good as she'd be getting.

Ginger frowned. "Is that it?"

"Yup, that's it."

Her frown deepened. "But that's hardly a real apology."

"Well, that's all there is." I gave her a tight smile. "Sorry."

Her eyes narrowed. "But that wasn't real either."

As she spoke, Emory sauntered closer and said with a little snicker, "Just like her mom's boobs."

I felt my jaw clench. "What?"

Emory explained, "They're not real either."

When my only reply was a cold stare, Emory said in a mock whisper. "You know, that little surgery your mom