Page 116 of Vegas with my Ex’s Best Friends

“I know.”

“I was going insane over here.”

“I know.”

He pulls back just far enough to look at me, hands bracketing my face. “You okay?”

“Better now.”

Andrew steps in. He doesn’t pull me away from Liam—he slides his hand around the back of my neck, thumb brushing along my jaw. He’s looking at me the way he does, like he’s counting to make sure nothing’s missing. I reach up and press my palm to his chest and feel him exhale.

Ethan waits. When Andrew steps back, Ethan cups my face with both hands and tilts my chin up. He takes me in carefully—there’s an assessment happening, and also something that’s been held too tightly for too long.

“You look tired,” he says.

“I’m fine.”

“Riley—”

“I’m fine.” I cover one of his hands with mine. “I promise.”

He lets out a breath. His forehead drops to mine for just a second.

Liam grabs my bag off my shoulder before I notice he’s doing it. “Suite’s upstairs. Come on.”

The elevator ride up is quiet. Liam keeps his shoulder against mine. Andrew’s fingers stay linked with mine. Ethan stands close enough that our arms brush the whole ride.

When we get inside and the door clicks shut, I set my bag down and turn to face them.

“I meant what I said to Connor.” My voice comes out steadier than I feel. “I’m not walking away from this. Not because things got complicated. Not because he’s angry, not because of the deal or the baby. I want this. All of it. All of you.”

Liam crosses the room and kisses me before I’ve finished talking. He’s not careful about it. His hand finds my hair and his other arm pulls me in and I stop thinking about anything else. Andrew moves behind me, hands at my waist, mouth at the side of my neck. Ethan steps in when Liam pulls back—slower, one hand curving under my jaw.

The heat builds fast. Hands. Mouths. The solid press of all three of them at once. Someone’s fingers find the hem of my shirt and I arch into it.

Then Ethan’s phone rings.

He ignores it.

It rings again.He checks the screen. His jaw tightens.

“Harrington’s assistant,” he says, still not pulling back. The phone rings a third time.

Liam makes a sound against my shoulder that means several things at once. Andrew’s arms stay around my waist like if he doesn’t let go the moment can’t end.

“Answer it,” I say.

Ethan looks at me for a long second. His voice already shifting into that measured, professional tone as he steps away. “This is Ethan. Yes—tomorrow works. I’ll be there.” The call lasts forty seconds.

Liam rests his forehead against mine, his breathing still uneven. “Worst timing in recorded human history.”

“It's fine,” I say.

“It's deeply not fine,” he says.

“Liam.” I press my palm to his chest.

“I'm just registering a complaint. For the record.” He turns his hand over and holds on. “Okay. Registered.”