A surge of anger came over Foreman when Amber casually mentioned House seeing her in nothing but one of his ties. He hid it as best he could, letting Amber lean over and kiss him quickly, but he was glad she jumped out of the car as quickly as she had, before he said something stupid. It was a joke. House wasn't ever going to see her like that. If Foreman could help it, no one would, but somehow the idea of House even having the faintest hint of it was worse. Foreman wasn't interested in sharing. Not only Amber, but any stories about their sex life. If House came up to him with a sly smirk on his face, repeating anything Foreman and Amber had done together, Foreman was sure he wouldn't be able to keep his cool.
He gripped the steering wheel and breathed out slowly. He was an idiot. He shook his head, pushing away the flash of jealousy. Where the hell did that come from? It'd been four days, Jesus. And, yeah, it might make sense to be jealous of other guys. Amber's past was still a mystery, except that she seemed to have a bountiful supply of things they could do beyond the ordinary. House, though, Foreman realized, was the only person that Amber talked about impressing on a daily basis. Not some forgotten boyfriend, but someone right now whose opinion meant everything to her. And as Amber herself had said, House would hire for looks. For who he was attracted to. Foreman had heard about House's method of choosing the candidates he wanted to keep, bestowing a mark of his favour on them. Amber's peony, that first night. That had been House's stamp of approval, and Amber hadn't let go of it for longer than a few minutes all night. She'd kept coming back to it, stroking the petals, always aware of it. Foreman hadn't seen it when he'd come into her place, but he'd had other things on his mind at that point. He didn't doubt that she'd kept it, somewhere.
Fuck. Instead of calming down, he was getting more wound up. Over something so moronic. He knew it wasn't true. Amber was interested in the job. In beating the other candidates and proving she was the best. Impressing House was the only way to win, so of course she wanted to. If Foreman thought Amber was attracted to him, or that he should feel threatened by House in any sense whatsoever, he'd clearly lost touch with reality. He needed to push this fucking thought out of his head and leave it at that.
Fortunately, Amber took a few minutes, and Foreman closed his eyes, trying his damnedest not to brood. When Amber opened the door again, carrying a bag, Foreman took a breath. "Yeah," he said, and smiled quickly. Amber was coming home with him. He needed to get the fuck over himself. He turned on the ignition again and started driving. "If we don't get a case tomorrow, we might be able to duck out early," he said. He promised himself he wasn't listening for how Amber would react to playing hooky from House's boot camp.
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He gripped the steering wheel and breathed out slowly. He was an idiot. He shook his head, pushing away the flash of jealousy. Where the hell did that come from? It'd been four days, Jesus. And, yeah, it might make sense to be jealous of other guys. Amber's past was still a mystery, except that she seemed to have a bountiful supply of things they could do beyond the ordinary. House, though, Foreman realized, was the only person that Amber talked about impressing on a daily basis. Not some forgotten boyfriend, but someone right now whose opinion meant everything to her. And as Amber herself had said, House would hire for looks. For who he was attracted to. Foreman had heard about House's method of choosing the candidates he wanted to keep, bestowing a mark of his favour on them. Amber's peony, that first night. That had been House's stamp of approval, and Amber hadn't let go of it for longer than a few minutes all night. She'd kept coming back to it, stroking the petals, always aware of it. Foreman hadn't seen it when he'd come into her place, but he'd had other things on his mind at that point. He didn't doubt that she'd kept it, somewhere.
Fuck. Instead of calming down, he was getting more wound up. Over something so moronic. He knew it wasn't true. Amber was interested in the job. In beating the other candidates and proving she was the best. Impressing House was the only way to win, so of course she wanted to. If Foreman thought Amber was attracted to him, or that he should feel threatened by House in any sense whatsoever, he'd clearly lost touch with reality. He needed to push this fucking thought out of his head and leave it at that.
Fortunately, Amber took a few minutes, and Foreman closed his eyes, trying his damnedest not to brood. When Amber opened the door again, carrying a bag, Foreman took a breath. "Yeah," he said, and smiled quickly. Amber was coming home with him. He needed to get the fuck over himself. He turned on the ignition again and started driving. "If we don't get a case tomorrow, we might be able to duck out early," he said. He promised himself he wasn't listening for how Amber would react to playing hooky from House's boot camp.