Page 43 of Vegas with my Ex’s Best Friends

I want to lean into it, enough for him to notice.

I don't. I keep walking straight ahead like I feel nothing at all.

I'm still feeling his hand long after he lets go.

“When you're ready to tell me,” he says quietly, “I'm here.”

I almost tell him right then. The word pregnant sits right behind my teeth.

I push it down.

“Okay,” I say instead.

We finish the last half-block in silence. He holds the lobby door and we ride the elevator up without speaking. The quiet between us feels easy, the way it always does with him.

In the penthouse hallway Liam stops outside my door.

“Night, Riley.”

“Night.”

He doesn't move right away. The space between us feels like a choice now. His eyes drop to my mouth for just a second.

I start to close the distance.

Then I don't.

The disappointment hits harder than it should.

I had real fun tonight. Not the careful version I've been living for weeks. Something that felt close to normal.

Vegas is loud and bright and alive, but for a few hours I forgot to feel different from everyone else out there.

That might be the most dangerous part of all.

Not the city.

Him.

I close the door and press my back against it in the dark.

I'm not telling him tonight.

I choose that. I make it a decision instead of a defeat.

I sit on the edge of the bed for a few minutes before I pick up my phone.

Jules answers on the second ring. Messy bun, glass of wine, her kitchen behind her. She takes one look at my face and sighs.

“Oh no.”

I huff out a laugh. “That’s your greeting?”

“You called me at midnight looking like that. I skipped hello.”

Fair.

She’s been reading me too easily since we were nineteen and sharing a dorm room and I still thought I was good at pretending I was fine.