Page 66 of Lie With Me
“Why not? If you’re over it, then it’s just one more event to prove that point to everyone. They are getting married at the beginning of March. I say we do it. Call me petty, but I’d love to sayfuck youone more time.”
I’m starting to think she’s taking what Emily did to me personally. I feel no need to attend my ex’s wedding, but Lenni’s acting like Emily wrongedher.
“Did you read the invitation? It’s an entire weekend in Connecticut.”
“Sounds like fun to me.”
“You’re serious? This is something you want to do?”
“Don’t you? Don’t you want her to see that herinvitation doesn’t bother you? Let's go and have a good time. It’ll be fun to get away for a weekend. It’s not like we have to attend everything they have planned—just the ceremony and necessary parties.” She plants her hands on her hips and looks at me expectantly.
With the way she’s searching my face, I think she doesn’t believe me when I say I’m really over Emily—like she’s trying to search for any cracks in my armor. And even though I think this isn’t the greatest idea Lenni has ever had, I find myself nodding my head.
“Okay. If that’s what you want.”
“Is this official yet?” Ginny asks as she motions between us. “Because the photo you sent me is literally my profile photo for both of you on my phone. It’s adorable, and if you two haven’t made it official yet, you should.”
“What photo?” Lenni looks at me with confusion.
We’re all seated in the living room after dinner. Their housekeeper, Claudia, makes the best home-cooked meals next to my mother, so I will never give up an opportunity to come over when I know she’s cooking.
Ginny pulls her phone out as I discreetly try and motion for her to stop talking because Lenni doesn’t know I snapped a photo of her the night she fellasleep in my arms. I may have made it the home screen image on my phone, and since we haven’t reached the point of sharing our phone passcodes with each other, she has no clue.
“This one!” Ginny leans over to show Lenni, and suddenly, I’m very interested in the old, mangy cat that is currently sitting in my lap, getting hair all over my clothes.
“Okay, I’ll admit, that’s cute. How come you never showed me that?” Lenni asks me.
Catching her gaze, I shrug. “Thought you wouldn’t want to see it.”
The look she gives me tells me I should have known better, but she’s so hot and cold and all over the frying pan that I don’t really ever know with her.
Jackson takes a seat next to me on their dark gray loveseat, pulling his precious cat into his lap as he hands me a tumbler of bourbon. “I think it’s time to get this guy a friend. He’s going to be lonely once the baby comes.”
“Finally! That’s a great idea, cat daddy. I’ll look for the next adoption fair.” Ginny flashes him a simple smile, and I swear he melts into a puddle while Lenni and I both snort at her nickname for him.
“You’re leaking your emotions all over my pants,cat daddy. That, paired with the cat hair, isn’t making for a warm home environment.”
“Fuck off. You should get one. A cat, that is. Since you’ll be on your own again soon,” he bites back quietly.
Lenni hears him, and I swear she gives herselfwhiplash as quickly as her head spins to glare at him. “Fuck you, Jackson.”
“You need a couple’s name. I’m gonna call you guys Trippentina or Valentripp! I like that better,” Ginny muses, as though the temperature in the room hasn’t just dropped to a degree that would support penguins in the Antarctic. She’s never struck me as ditzy or vacuous, so I assume the baby is already affecting her mood.
Or maybe she’s just used to Jackson and Lenni’s less-than-friendly banter by now.
“Oh my god, those are awful. Be grateful I didn’t give you a stupid couple's nickname,” Lenni responds, getting up to get another glass of wine. She’s not even arguing with Ginny over calling us a couple, and I can’t help but focus on that little fact.
“If we’re getting one, they are too. What about Jacksonny? Wait, isn’t your real name Guinevere? Guineson! That’s a good one,” I play along as my eyes zero in on the way her ass looks in her jeans, thinking about all the ways I want to fuck her when we get back to my place.
“Absolutely not,” Jackson voices.
“I don’t know. I kinda like it,” Ginny says.
I waggle my eyebrows at her before shooting Jackson a grin. “You’re stuck with it now.”
“Ginny? What’s this?” Everyone’s attention turns to Lenni skimming what looks like a newspaper. Her lips are turned down, and she looks like she’s holding her wine glass so tightly it may break.
“Oh! I forgot to show you earlier. The Times didan article on you guys! Tripp, your mother must have sent them one of the photos taken at the party. You guys look so happy. I wanted to keep it in case you hadn’t seen it,” Ginny exclaims excitedly, getting up from the couch to rush over to her best friend.