The Play (Briar U, #3)(55)
TJ gives me a questioning look, as if to say, should I step in?
I respond with a slight shake of the head. “Fine,” I tell Corinne. To TJ, I say, “Do you mind? You’re supposed to go meet your roommate soon, anyway. Right?”
He nods. “Yeah, it’s no problem.” He eyes Corinne warily as he stands up.
She goes to grab a coffee, her black curls cascading down her back. She’s wearing a puffy navy-blue winter coat, which she takes off as she gets in line.
“I really don’t want to do this,” I tell TJ.
“I know, but you can handle it.”
“I’m not so sure about that.”
“You can handle anything,” TJ promises. “You’re fearless. But if you truly need an out, text me SOS and I’ll ditch Ryan and come right back.”
“You da best.”
He touches my shoulder, his palm lingering before he withdraws it. A moment later, the bell over the door jingles as he exits the coffeehouse.
When Corinne returns, we endure another awkward silence. I stare at her, because I’m not going to be the first person to speak.
“I’m so sorry,” is her opening line.
How original. “Yes, you already told me that.”
“I know, and I’m just going to keep saying it until maybe you’ll believe that I mean it.”
“Oh, I believe you mean it. But it’s easy to ask forgiveness. What shouldn’t have been easy for you was sleeping with your friend’s boyfriend.”
Shame colors her cheeks. She gulps, offering a quick nod. “I know. I made a mistake. And if you want to ask me any questions about it, I promise every word I say will be the truth.”
“Okay, I’ll bite.” My tone is more frigid than I intend it to be, but I can’t control it. “How many times did you sleep with him?”
“Once,” she says instantly. “It wasn’t long after the move. He came by one night to help me hang a shelf.”
I strain to recall when that could’ve been. Probably one of the nights Nico was working late. I wonder how many times he lied to me over the years. God. This entire conversation is so embarrassing.
“We had a beer, and you know I don’t handle alcohol very well—that’s not an excuse,” she hurries on. “I’m not blaming the alcohol, but I was buzzed. And he was, you know, he was Nico. He’s charming.”
“Yes, he is,” I say tersely. It’s the dimples. Those dimples never fail to disarm women.
Corinne stares at her hands, wrapped around her coffee cup. “He kissed me, and I knew kissing him back was a bad idea, but I wasn’t thinking clearly and then he said—” She stops.
“He said what?”
“He told me you guys were having problems but that you didn’t want anyone to know.”
My jaw drops.
“And he said…” She blushes. “He said your sex life was non-existent.”
“Non-existent?” I’m seething again. “We were having sex regularly.” I just didn’t realize he was also having sex with everyone else.
“I’m sorry. I really don’t want my excuse to be that I was a stupid girl, but I was. I was stupid and insecure, and I hadn’t had a boyfriend in so long and suddenly this charming, gorgeous guy was paying attention to me, flirting with me, telling me all these terrible things about you.”
“And you believed him?” I’m hurt by the notion.
“No,” Corinne admits. “I wanted to believe him, because then it’d give me justification to not feel bad. But I did feel bad. I felt awful—before it happened, during, and after. And then he actually tried to see me again, in secret. I felt sick and said no way in hell. I wanted to tell you the truth, but he said he’d deny it if I did, and paint me as a slut who tried to seduce him.”
I don’t even know what to believe anymore. In his subsequent texts after our showdown at my house, Nico spammed my phone with his explanations, his excuses. And that was precisely what he told me—that Corinne came on to him, and he was too drunk to fend off her wicked advances.
“I don’t know if this helps or not, but…” Corinne takes her phone out of her bag. “These are all the text exchanges I had with him.”
She slides the phone across the table and I reluctantly pick it up. The first thing I do is click on Nico’s contact page to ensure that his name is assigned to the right number. People are liars, and technology is easily, and frequently, manipulated these days. But it’s the right number.
I don’t want to do it, but I force myself to read the text thread. And there it is, in black and white. Or rather, gray and blue. My loving boyfriend, asking my friend when they were going to have sex again. Corinne’s not lying. The entire exchange is disgusting.
NICO: Still thinking bout u. when r we gonna do it again? ;)
CORINNE: Never. I never want to do it again, Nico.
HIM: Srsly? playing hard 2 get all of a sudden?
HER: No. I feel sick to my stomach. I want to tell Demi what happened.
HIM: WTF? R u kidding me?
HER: No, I’m not. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat. I feel like the worst person on the planet. She’s one of my closest friends. I don’t have a lot of those. What we did was so freaking stupid and I’m so ashamed of myself. I’m throwing up every night. I have to tell her.