Page 96 of Vegas with my Ex’s Best Friends

“We know.”

“And you are leaving it.”

“We’re not leaving her alone with this.”

Connor pauses, short and controlled. “You don’t get a vote on that.”

“We’re not voting,” Liam says. “We’re staying.”

Connor turns to Andrew.

He’s been avoiding it since he walked in. I saw it—the way his attention kept circling the room, landing everywhere except there.

Now he looks.

Andrew looks back.

Neither of them says anything.

Connor’s gaze holds.

“Was it you?”

Quiet. Precise. No room for misinterpretation.

Andrew doesn’t answer right away.

That’s the answer.

Connor’s jaw tightens once.

“How long?”

Andrew exhales, steady. No apology in it. No retreat.

“College. Seven years ago.”

Connor goes still.

His gaze snaps to me.

“Wait,” he says, harsher now. “This is him?”

A beat.

“The one who left you?”

He doesn’t say anything else.

He just looks at Andrew. Not the way he did a second ago. This is different. Like he’s seeing him clearly for the first time and not liking what the picture adds up to.

Andrew doesn’t flinch.

“And you didn’t think to mention that?” he says, quieter now, “in the last year and a half we’ve been sitting across from each other?”

There it is.

Not what happened back then—