Chapter 58
TJ
Iwas about to go look for Weberly. Laurie had just left me alone in the booth to circle the club and I realised it had been almost an hour since Weberly went to the loo. But as I get up, I see her walking towards me with a genuine smile on her face, and I sit back down.
What the hell?
In all the time I have known her, I can count on one hand the number of times I have seen her truly smile. Zero.
“Where have you been all this time?” I ask her as she reaches me.
I will never care for her the way I do for Cornelia, but we’ve reached a point where I consider her a friend.
Weberly stands in front of me, not bothering to sit down.
“In the loo. There’s a big line,” she says, sounding oddly cheerful.
Something must have happened in there to make her this fucking happy. If she hadn’t told me she doesn’t do drugs, I’d think she snorted a line in there. Maybe she fucked someone instead. I wouldn’t mind either scenario.
She offers me her hand. “Let’s go do something fun.”
I take it and rise from the booth. I wouldn’t mind a distraction—anything to take my mind off the fact that Cornelia’s here, all cosy with Benedict.
Weberly is leading us straight to the bar counter, where Cornelia is alone, sipping on a martini. I saw her with Benedict a few minutes ago, so I’m guessing he’s gone to the loo and she’s waiting for him to come back or something.
“What the fuck?” I mutter to Weberly.
“It’ll be fun, trust me,” she tells me.
I don’t trust her on this one bit, nor do I think it’ll be fun.
Any second now, Benedict’s going to come back, and I’ll have to use every ounce of self-control to keep myself from punching him like I always do when I see him.
Still, I keep following Weberly, because I’m a sucker for breathing the same air as Cornelia.
“Cornelia,” Weberly calls out as we arrive at the bar counter.
Cornelia glances at her, barely acknowledging the greeting. I hand back, unsure of what Weberly is planning.
Weberly says, “I was thinkin—”
“That’s a novelty,” Cornelia mutters under her breath.
I suppress a laugh. I love that Cornelia can be the nicest, sweetest, most considerate person when she wants to—but when she doesn’t, she can be downright ruthless.
Weberly should count herself lucky; I’ve seen Cornelia cut far deeper.
But she tends to save that for when someone messes with the people she loves.
Weberly ignores the comment, but I know she heard it. I did. She continues, “Since TJ and I, and you and Benedict, are the only couples in the group—”
Cornelia scoffs and places her martini with no olives down on the bar counter. She clearly doesn’t consider Weberly part of the group.
Whatever Weberly’s endgame is, she clearly thinks it’s worth it, because she’s brushing off all of Cornelia’s jabs like they’re nothing.
“We should go on a double date,” Weberly finishes.
What the actual fuck? Is Weberly’s idea of fun putting me through hell?
One thing is spending a few hours in a big place like Red Lips, with the rest of our mates as buffers—which I can barely stomach as it is—but another entirely is sitting through a dinner with just the four of us.
That could last hours, and there’s no way in hell that dinner wouldn’t end in an utter disaster.
Cornelia looks at Weberly like she’s just asked her if she’d be fine with ten people lying on her bed with their outside clothes on, which I think she might prefer over all of us going on a double date.
“You can’t be serious.” She crosses her arms.
“But I am,” Weberly replies, unfazed. “I don’t see why you’d think otherwise. If you’re as happy with Benedict as you claim, you wouldn’t mind… unless you’re not over TJ.”
I can think of a hundred reasons she wouldn’t want to go on a double date, starting with the fact that most of us don’t even like each other.
“What are you talking about?” Benedict suddenly appears, placing a hand on Cornelia’s waist, a calculated move I’ve noticed he makes whenever I’m near them. He touches her more, like he’s marking his territory.
My face darkens at the sight. I want to tear his hand off Cornelia’s waist.
Cornelia drops her arms, startled by Benedict’s sudden appearance, but she quickly composes herself and turns her gaze on him. “Weberly…” she swallows, reluctant to explain, “was suggesting we all go on a double date.”
“So, what’s the answer?” Weberly presses.
“It’s fine by me if it’s fine by you,” Benedict responds, looking at Cornelia.
She takes a few seconds to answer. “I’m fine with it,” she says, though I can tell she wanted to say no. She turns to look at Weberly. “I’ll message you so we can figure out the where and when.”
Weberly nods, a triumphant look flashing across her face. Cornelia leans in to whisper something to Benedict, and he nods before they walk off. Once they’re out of earshot, I turn to Weberly.
“Is your idea of fun torturing me?” I snap at her. “I never deluded myself into thinking we were a real couple, but I also never thought you hated me. You do realise I’m not a masochist, right?”
“Are you done?” She looks at me like I’m a child throwing a tantrum, and she’s the mother who knows best. “You may think you’ll hate the dinner, but trust me, it’ll be fun, and afterwards, you’ll thank me for it.”