Page 44 of Vegas with my Ex’s Best Friends

“How bad is it?” she asks.

I stare at the ceiling. “I almost told him.”

Her eyebrows go up immediately. “Which one?”

“Liam.”

“Oh, that’s worse.”

“Helpful.”

“I’m serious. Andrew would’ve been messy. Ethan would’ve turned into a crisis-management robot. Liam’s the one you actually talk to.”

I hate that she’s right.

“We had dinner,” I say. “He wasn’t even pushing. I just… wanted to tell him.”

Jules sets her wine down.

“Okay,” she says softly. “And are you okay?”

“I keep not telling anyone.”

“That is not what I asked.”

I pull my knees up against my chest. Out the window, Vegas glows obnoxiously alive forty floors below me.

“I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Bullshit. You absolutely know what you’re doing.” Her tone isn’t mean. Just honest. “You’re freezing. That’s your thing.”

“Wow. Love getting psychoanalyzed for free.”

“Please. I’ve earned the right.”

I groan and let my head fall back against the headboard.

“Riley.” Her voice softens a little. “You’ve known for a while now. You haven’t told Connor. You haven’t told the guys. You barely told me, and that was over text like you were canceling brunch.”

“I told you more than that.”

“You sent: ‘small complication lol.’”

“In my defense, I was spiraling.”

“I know.”

The quiet settles for a second.

“I didn’t tell Liam,” I say finally.

“I know. That’s why you’re calling me.”

I pick at a loose thread on the blanket until it snaps.

“What do I do?”

“You tell them.”