What the fuck?!

Finally, Gemma approaches you at the grill as your wife starts assembling the burgers next to you.

"This is my boyfriend Jeremy," she says, her voice sweet, "Jeremy, this is my dad's friend, Scott and his wife Rebecca."

"Nice to meet you, man," Jeremy grins, extending his hand, his grip firm.

"Likewise." You force a smile, shaking his hand, your jaw clenched. You wish you could crush it.

He's tall and broad-shouldered, with dark hair and a sharp jawline shadowed with a day's worth of stubble. He’s the kind of guy who looks like he’d be more at home on a sports field than in a lecture hall, his forearms corded with muscle. He's good-looking. Too good looking. Why the fuck has Gemma never mentioned him before? You wonder if he knows about you and her. Your blood begins to boil as you stare him down.

Gemma's fingers trail up Jeremy's arm. "Scott's been so helpful since we moved in," she purrs, her gaze flicking to you. "Haven't you?"

Your wife laughs, slipping her arm through yours. You want to pull away, but manage to control yourself.

"He's always the gentleman," Rebecca says.

"Mmm... gentleman isn't the word I'd use," Gemma murmurs.

Your pulse spikes. Is she doing this on purpose - flaunting him, rubbing it in your face? You stand there, jealous of some guy you don't even know while your wife hangs off you, totally oblivious to the situation.