Page 97 of Vegas with my Ex’s Best Friends

The fact that it sat between them this whole time, unspoken.

Andrew doesn’t flinch.

“I should have.”

Connor breathes out slowly, like he’s holding something back that won’t stay contained much longer.

“Yeah.”

A pause.

“You should have.”

Of course he goes to Andrew first. He always follows the thread all the way back.

I watch Connor take it in—the dinners, the meetings, every time he sat across from them without knowing.

Then he looks at me.

This isn’t the look from the balcony.

That one had space in it. This one doesn’t.

I open my mouth.

Nothing comes out.

There’s too much of it—too many pieces, no version that doesn’t sound like a mess.

“I told you,” he says. Not to me. To them. “She was off-limits. I was clear about it.”

“You were,” Ethan says.

“Then you understand why you’re leaving.”

“We understand why you’re asking,” Ethan says. “We’re not going.”

Connor’s jaw flexes. “I’m not asking.”

“We heard you,” Liam says.

“Then why haven’t you moved?”

Liam doesn’t answer.

He doesn’t need to.

Connor sees it now—not just the resistance, but what it means. That they’ve already decided.

He looks at Andrew again.

Andrew doesn’t move. Doesn’t try to make this easier. Just stands there and takes it.

I’ve been waiting for him to run since the night in the hot tub.

He never did.

He isn’t now.