“To adulting!” Pippa adds.
“To adulting!”
The tequila burns a fiery path down my throat and instantly I’m warm all over. Someone turns up the music, and Nico and I drift over to the couch.
Pippa is sitting in Darius’s lap, his long fingers toying with her hair. They’re not a couple, but they flirt shamelessly when they’re together. I tried setting them up a long time ago, but it didn’t work out for whatever reason. I think neither of them wants a serious relationship, so their flirty arrangement suits them both.
Corinne stands nearby chatting with Kyler, and the others are gathered near the drinks table. Darius snatches the remote off the glass table when he notices what’s on TV.
He swiftly turns up the volume. “Aw shit, I love this movie!”
“You realize it’s for chicks, right?” Nico informs him.
“If it’s for chicks then why is Scarlett Johansson in it?” D challenges. “Cuz I highly doubt chicks jerk off to ScarJo as often as I do.”
Laughter breaks out. Kyler the math guy blushes. He’s kind of cute. I wonder if he and Corinne are into each other. He’s standing very close to her.
“Where do I know this actor from?” Pippa asks as a handsome guy appears on the screen. “He was in that movie about a cellphone, wasn’t he?”
“That’s the vaguest shit I ever heard,” Darius says, poking her in the ribs.
“You know the movie I’m talking about, right, Demi?”
I peer at the screen. “Is that Chris Evans?”
Pippa nods. “And I swear to God, he was in that cellphone movie. It’s an older movie with…that British guy, and that lady, and…”
Darius hoots loudly. “Fuck’s sake, P, stop being so vague.”
“Wait, I think I know the movie you mean,” I tell Pippa. “Shit. I can’t remember the title, either. Babe, let me use your phone to look it up?”
Nico reaches into his pocket and hands me his iPhone. It doesn’t require a passcode to unlock, which only serves as another reason why Hunter’s cheating accusations fall flat to me. Why would Nico willingly relinquish his phone if he were hiding something?
Nico’s data plan is shit, so rather than pull up a browser, I open his settings first. “Hey, what’s your Wi-Fi network?” I ask Corinne.
“Cwiley22,” she calls back. “Password is lower-case A, upper-case F—”
“That’s weird,” I interrupt, “it connected on its own.”
An uneasy feeling tickles my tummy as I glance at Nico.
“Huh.” A frown creases his brow. “You know what, my phone must have saved your network when the boys and I were here moving you in,” he says to Corinne.
“Oh, that must be it,” she replies.
I nod slowly and open a web browser to search for—what am I searching for again? Oh, right. Chris Evans. But my fingers are trembling as I Google his filmography.
Something’s bothering me and I can’t figure out what it is. I mean, I already knew that Nico and his co-workers moved all of Corinne’s boxes from the dorm to the apartment, and transported her new furniture. He never hid that, and neither did she. And of course she would’ve given Nico her Wi-Fi password if he’d asked. And he would’ve asked, because his data plan sucks and if he was here for a couple hours and wanted to use his phone, he’d definitely—
Then it hits me, the reason why my stomach is churning and twisting itself into knots.
Corinne didn’t have Wi-Fi until nearly a week after she’d moved in. When I came over to help with her closet, it still hadn’t been set up.
There’s no way it could’ve been up and running when Nico was there days and days before.
My entire body suddenly feels cold.
“Demi. What’s the movie we’re thinking of?” Pippa asks impatiently.
My breathing is labored as I glance at the phone screen. “It was called Cellular,” I mumble.
“Ha! Damn, you were right about it being a cellphone movie,” a laughing Darius says to Pippa.
“I told you so.”
As everyone starts chatting again, I drop the phone in Nico’s lap. His deep brown eyes study me carefully. “Babe?”
I’m having a tough time finding my voice. I truly don’t know what to say. Corinne is still talking to Kyler, but for some reason I know she’s listening to me and Nico.
I draw a shaky breath. Why did his phone instantly connect to her Wi-Fi? That would suggest he’s been back here since moving day, but why would he ever need to be? She’s my friend, not his. I can see him hanging out with Pippa without me, but not Corinne.
The tequila gurgles in my stomach. Fuck. Am I going to throw up?
“Demi, what’s wrong?” Nico urges.
I weakly meet his gaze. “Corinne only set up her Wi-Fi a week after she moved in.”
For one fast second, panic flits through his expression. But it happens so quickly that I can’t be sure.
“Okay, that is weird, then,” he says, pursing his lips. “I wonder why it just connected like that.”
“Yeah, I wonder,” I say tightly.
Our hushed conversation draws Pippa’s attention. “What’s going on?” she asks.
“Nothing,” Nico says instantly.
But Pippa knows me well. One look at my face and she’s already sliding off Darius’s lap.
“What’s going on?” she repeats, her sharp gaze moving from me to Nico and then back to me.
I open my mouth but nothing comes out. Slowly, I turn my head toward Corinne. She’s looking right back, and the guilty cloud in her eyes is all it takes for me to bolt to my feet.
The room spins for a moment. With three shots of tequila swimming in my gut, now I really am in danger of vomiting.
I choke down the bile coating my throat. “You have got to be kidding me,” I spit out. “How long?”
Corinne takes a step toward me. “It’s not what you’re thinking—”
“How long have you been fucking my boyfriend, Corinne?” My head swivels toward Nico. “How long have you been fucking her?”
The entire room goes dead silent. On the TV screen, ScarJo is bickering with Chris Evans and suddenly the movie doesn’t feel so cute and funny anymore. It feels like a slap in the face, these stupid people falling in love when I’ve just been blind-sided by my boyfriend of eight years.
“Oh shit,” Darius murmurs. His voice is low, and he seems as stunned as I feel. I don’t think he knew about this. I don’t think anyone did, except for Hunter.
Hunter tried to warn me. He found the courage to tell me what he saw at the party and—
I abruptly turn to Corinne again. “Was that you at the frat party?” I demand.
She blinks. “What?”
“A couple of weekends ago, the party at the Alpha Delta house on Saturday night—were you there with Nico?”
She rapidly shakes her head. “No, I swear I wasn’t. I’m in a study group with Kyler and Ahmed and we meet Saturday night.”
She gestures to the two guys, who are quick to back up her alibi. “We were all together,” Kyler says awkwardly.
“Then how long has this been going on?” My voice is cold.