Page 32 of Vegas with my Ex’s Best Friends

“That's definitely Riley,” Ethan agrees.

“Absolutely not,” Riley says. “I've been in the pool.”

“When?” Andrew asks.

“I—the first week.”

“Once,” I say.

“Once counts.”

“It really doesn't,” Andrew says, already standing, already pulling his shirt off. “Come on.”

“You're in too,” Andrew says, already halfway to the edge.

“Absolutely not,” I say.

Riley tilts her head. “Scared?”

That does it.

I drop my can on the table and step to the edge. The tile burns under my feet for half a second before I push off and dive.

Cold water closes over my head.

When I surface, Andrew is already grinning like he knew exactly how that would go.

Andrew and I race the length of it while Riley sits on the edge with her feet in the water, seltzer balanced in her hand like this is entertainment and not competition. Ethan times it on his phone and reads the result in his meeting voice. Riley laughs so hard she nearly drops the can.

Andrew wins. He surfaces and looks straight at her.

“Told you,” he says.

“You cheated.”

“How do you cheat at swimming in a straight line?”

“I don't know yet. I'm working on it.”

Ethan slips in during the second race. No announcement, no splash, just there. He does a lap, comes back, and hooks his arms over the edge of the pool right next to where Riley is sitting.

“You're still not in,” he says.

“I'm judging.”

“Judging is over. Andrew cheated somehow, Riley said so.” He tilts his head toward the water. “Come in.”

She looks at him. She slides in.

The water is cold. Cold enough that she sucks in a sharp breath, cold enough that it shows through the thin fabric of her bikini top when she breaks the surface.

I notice Andrew go very still.

Ethan is staring at a fixed point past the far end of the pool.

I look at the water.

Riley pushes her hair back, oblivious. “Okay,” she says, shaking her face dry. “That's cold.”