Page 33 of Vegas with my Ex’s Best Friends

“Yeah,” I manage.

We play.

Ethan beats me in the second race by half a length and doesn't say a word about it, which is worse than if he'd gloated.

Andrew digs a pool ball out from under one of the deck chairs and the rules change entirely. He argues every call Riley makes.

“That was out,” she says.

“It wasn't even close to out,” Andrew fires back.

“It felt out.”

“That's not how rules work.”

She grins like she's doing it on purpose.

I stop keeping score. I let myself have it. All of it. The noise and the sun and the fact that nobody has said anything real in an hour.

We're midway through a third race—Riley and Andrew on one side, Ethan and me on the other, an argument building about whether kicking counts as cheating—when Andrew ducks under and comes up behind Riley, both hands at her waist, hauling her sideways.

She shrieks and goes under. Comes up spluttering, both palms flat against his chest. “That is absolutely cheating—”

“No rules about underwater contact,” he says.

“I'm making that a rule right now—”

His hands are still at her waist, fingers curved just above her bikini bottoms. She's still laughing. Then she isn't.

He isn't either.

I stop moving in the water.

She looks at Andrew. Then at me. Then at Ethan, who has drifted closer without seeming to. We're in a small pool in a city that makes you forget the rest of the world exists and we've been here for hours, and we've been here for weeks, and that's the problem.

“We can't,” she says. Not an accusation. Just true.

Andrew exhales. His hand drops. “I know.”

“Connor—” I start.

“And Harrington.” She says it quietly. “And everything that comes after this week. The deal, the dinners, all of it.” She looks at us. “It's not just us.”

Ethan doesn't say anything. He doesn't have to.

We stay in the water for another moment, the four of us close enough to touch, not touching. Then Riley moves toward the steps. Andrew follows. I pull myself out on the side.

Ethan holds the door. I'm the last one in.

I tell myself we're still following the rules.

The lie feels thinner every day.

Chapter thirteen

Chapter Thirteen—Riley

I've gotten very good at explaining myself to myself. Six weeks of practice.