Page 119 of Vegas with my Ex’s Best Friends

“That’s not—”

“Andrew. Buddy.” Liam pushes a plate toward Ethan. “You look like a model about to crash. Eat something.”

Ethan looks at the plate. Back at his laptop. He closes the laptop. “Thank you.”

“Welcome. Let’s eat.”

We end up on the floor. I’m not entirely sure how—the coffee table got moved, someone grabbed the pillows, and now we’re all on the carpet with room service spread in front of us and Liam is constructing what he’s calling the greatest appetizer plate in recorded hotel history.

“You’re putting shrimp on the bruschetta,” Andrew says.

“It’s called layering.”

“It’s called wrong.”

“Andrew. Flavor profiles.”

I watch Ethan take a bite of something and close his eyes for one second like he didn’t realize he was that hungry. I watch Andrew steal a piece of bread and eat it standing up, because he’s been trying to sit down for days and still hasn’t figured out how to fully do it. I watch Liam demolish his construction and immediately start a new one.

We talk about other things: a documentary Liam keeps meaning to watch, a project Andrew has been circling, something Ethan read that he can’t quite explain but keeps coming back to. It’s ordinary in a way nothing about this week has been.

Around eleven, Liam stretches out on the carpet using a folded cocktail napkin as a pillow. “I’m not moving,” he announces. “This is an excellent carpet. I’m staying here forever.”

“You’re on a napkin,” Andrew says.

“It’s a very good napkin.”

I lie down beside him and stare at the ceiling. The room is messy—plates, glasses, someone’s shoes, Ethan’s phone on the ottoman. He’s watching me from the couch now, not working.

“Hey,” I say.

“Hey,” he says back.

“It’s going to be okay.”

He doesn’t answer right away. “I know.”

“You don’t. A little.”

That gets him—a near-smile, the barely-there kind he doesn’t give to most people. “Maybe a little.”

Liam rolls onto his side and props his head on one hand. He looks at Ethan. “For the record? When this all shakes out? I want full credit. I’ve been very emotionally available tonight.”

“You ordered seventeen appetizers,” Ethan says.

“That’s how I show love. Ask anyone.” He looks at Andrew.

“He’s not wrong,” Andrew says.

“Thank you. Andrew believes in me.”

“I agreed that food is how you show love. I didn’t say it’s a good strategy.”

“It’s a great strategy.” Liam looks at me. “Riley. Back me up.”

I reach over and squeeze his hand. He turns it into something else—lifts it and presses his mouth to the inside of my wrist. Not a performance. His eyes find mine over the top of it and something in the room changes temperature.

“Come here,” he says.