My phone begins vibrating from the front pocket of my scrubs. I reach for it while answering Beth. “Uh, yeah, sort of.”

“Sort of?”

“Well, you know, it’s just . . . taking some time. He’s stressed out with the whole job hunting thing right now.” I slide my thumb across the screen and pull up the text.

“He still hasn’t found a job?”

CJ: Thought about your boobs earlier but I kept it on a friendly level. Just wanted you to know how committed I am to this arrangement.

Laughter catches in my throat.

“How do you think about boobs on a friendly level?” I quietly ask myself while reading the text again.

“Riley.”

“Mm?” I lift my eyes to Beth. “Oh, sorry. What did you ask me?”

She looks at the phone in my hand, then back into my face. “Did you just say something about friendly boobs?” She points at the device. “Is that Richard?”

Crap.

“Uh.”

My hand buzzes with the next vibration. A new text.

I’m not going to read it. I’m going to keep looking at Beth, and I’m going to answer her original question.

If I can remember it.

CJ: Didn’t even picture nipple. That takes dedication.

I can’t remember it so I read the text. And I totally laugh, again.

Why does he have to be so damn funny on top of being everything else?

“Riley.”

“Yes. Right here.” I put the phone down on the bar and look at her. “Repeat what you just asked me. I’m listening. I swear.”

Beth’s dark, perfectly sculpted brows pull together. “Well,” she begins, eyes dancing between the phone and my face. “Let me think. I asked several things.” She drums her blue painted nails on the bar and ponders for a few seconds.

“I'm just going to respond to this really quick while you think. I'm paying attention, I promise, I just don't want to be rude,” I tell her, grabbing my phone again.

Me: Kinda weird that ur picturing my boobs without nipples.

I start to look up, but a new vibration drops my gaze back down.

CJ: You giving me the go ahead to picture nip? Fantastic. My day is looking up.

Me: Friends don't picture each other's boobs. No boobs or nip allowed.

CJ: You friend-zone me and it's a boob-free zone?

Oh, Lord.

Me: NO BOOBS OR NIP.

CJ: Should've been up front with that disclaimer. Can't be adding rules to this shit now. It's too late.

Me: These are unspoken rules that apply to every friendship. I don't picture Beth's boobs.

CJ: Totally imagining you picturing Beth's boobs right now.

Me: WHAT?!

CJ: Now she's thinking about yours.

“Oh, my God,” I murmur, shaking my head through a laugh.

“Why are you and CJ discussing my boobs?”

Beth's voice jerks my head up and our eyes lock, hers so close to mine now I can count her lashes.

I guess I wasn't paying attention and held my phone out for curious eyes. Eyes that are apparently very capable of reading upside down.

Perfect.

This is so not how I wanted to broach this topic.

“Did you two always text?” she asks when I don't answer, leaning away but staying propped on her elbows. “You and CJ?”

“Uh.” I put my phone down and saw my teeth over my bottom lip. “No, but—”

“I didn't think you two really even knew each other. How long has this been going on?” she interrupts.

“Didn't you ask me something about Richard?” I suggest, growing nervous from her line of questioning. “Right? Weren't you trying to remember what you asked me? Why don't we focus on those questions first and then we can move on? Did you remember them?”

“Riley.”

“Okay. Fine,” I groan, dropping my face into my hand. Pieces of hair that have fallen out of my ponytail tickle my cheek. “It's why I'm here anyway. I don't know why I'm avoiding this.” I lift my head and look at her, lowering my hand to the bar. “The weekend of the wedding . . . I, uh, sort of slept with CJ a little,” I confess with a soft voice.

Beth's eyes go round, taking up the majority of her face.

“And by a little, I mean a lot,” I clarify.

“Oh, my God,” she whispers.

“And when I say slept with, I mean there wasn't much sleeping involved, except after we were finished not sleeping.”

“Oh, my God,” she whispers again.

“You sound like me that weekend,” I say, shaking my head.

Beth blinks several times. She looks stunned.

“I think we would’ve continued what we were doing, maybe. He wanted to.” I look down at the bar. “We both did,” I admit quietly. “But I got home and Richard was there, and then I found out we weren’t really broken up. And I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t . . .”

“You couldn’t tell him or you couldn’t leave?”

“Both.” I look up at her. “I didn’t want to hurt him. I love him. And CJ was just . . . a mistake. I couldn’t throw away my relationship over something that was never meant to happen. And Richard and I, we’re good together. Great together. We’ve just hit a bump. That’s all.”

A big bump. One that’s taking us forever to clear, but we’ll clear it.

I know we will.

“What about CJ?” Beth asks.

“We’re friends. That’s what I wanted.” I tap my phone with the back of my hand, then wave her on. “Go ahead. Tell me I’m a horrible person. I deserve it.”

“Why would I tell you you’re a horrible person?” she questions.

“Because I cheated on Richard.”

“But,” her brow furrows. “You thought you were broken up, right? I mean, you really thought that.”

I nod, grabbing the balled up napkin Beth used as a weapon and twisting it between my hands like I’m wringing out a towel. “I should’ve been absolutely sure though,” I declare, swallowing down the sick creeping up the back of my throat. “I should’ve doubled checked. Triple checked. Why didn’t I?”

Beth’s face softens. She shakes her head. “You were sure, Riley,” she tells me. “In your heart, you were sure. You didn’t do anything wrong.”