Page 105 of Vegas with my Ex’s Best Friends

“I need a minute,” he says.

He pushes to his feet and heads for the door without looking at me. This time I don't try to stop him. The door closes behind him and the quiet that follows is different—not empty. It settles.

I walk to the window. My hand drifts to my stomach without thinking, and I let it stay there. For the first time in two months there's no one else here. No one to manage, no one to read, no one to adjust around. Just me, and the city, and whatever comes next.

My phone is on the couch where I left it. I pick it up. Andrew's last message is still there.

Are you okay?

I stare at it for a second.

Then type.

Riley: Getting there.

Send.

I set the phone down and look back out at the city.

Connor’s somewhere in this building. Or outside it. Or walking until he figures out what to do next.

And the three of them are waiting.

For me.

I don’t know what this turns into.

I don’t know how it works.

But I know what I didn’t do.

I didn’t leave.

Chapter thirty-seven

Chapter Thirty-Seven—Liam

The hotel restaurant is trying very hard to pretend it’s a normal morning.

White plates. Polished silverware. Soft music. Waiters moving around with coffee pots like nothing at this table is about to go sideways.

Nobody’s touched the food.

Andrew has been staring at his phone for the last five minutes like it might do something different if he waits long enough. Ethan has his laptop open beside his coffee, which would mean something if he’d looked at the screen even once.

I’m on my second espresso and considering a third.

So I wave the waiter over.

Ethan doesn’t even look up. “No.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You made eye contact with the waiter.”

“That’s how restaurants work.”

“You don’t need more caffeine.”