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“Okay,” Kendra replied.

Around seven that night, Aspen exited her garage and found Kendra walking toward her driveway.

“Jesus, she’s gorgeous,” she said to herself from the safety of her car.

She wanted to get out, meet Kendra halfway, tell her how beautiful she was, and open the car door for her like this was a date, but she didn’t. She sat still and waited for Kendra to get in because this wasn’t a date.

Kendra was wearing a black pleated skirt with a white button-down shirt, and Aspen now understood why she had the buttons connected all the way to the top. She’d noticed her doing that before but had assumed it was because she’d been on camera for work and wanted to appear professional or something or that the network required that. To Aspen, that scar was part of Kendra’s story, her war that she’d fought and won, but to Kendra, it was a reminder of the things she’d once hoped for and lost.

“Hey,” Kendra said when she climbed in.

“Hey. Ready?”

“Yeah, is this okay? What I’m wearing? I didn’t know if it was something casual or if I should dress up.”

“It’s… more than okay,” Aspen replied, trying not to look at Kendra’s legs.

“You went casual, though,” Kendra noted.

“I pretty much always go casual unless otherwise ordered.” Aspen looked down at her jeans, her sandals that, at least, weren’t flip-flops, and her band T-shirt that had been dropped off by her mom the other day.

She’d forgotten the box of old clothes she’d kept at her parents’ place before moving into her house, so when her mom had brought it over, Aspen had pulled out item after item, washed them, and then tonight, decided to wear this particular shirt she remembered she’d bought at Hot Topic in college.

“Do I look bad or something?” she asked, worrying that maybe she should go inside and change.

“No, you–” Kendra looked her up and down. “You look good; like you’re way cooler than me.” She laughed a little.

“No way. You’re way cooler than me. You own grown-up clothes like a skirt with pleats, and you’ve managed to make it not wrinkle or look flat. That’s way cooler than an old T-shirt and jeans.”

“You know you’re a grown-up, though, right?”

“Yeah.” Aspen laughed.

“So, what you’re wearing are grown-up clothes by default,” Kendra pointed out.

“Should we go?” Aspen asked, aiming her smile at Kendra.

“Yes. Let’s,” she replied and wiped her hands up and down her skirt.

“Are you nervous or something?”

“Yes, I am,” Kendra told her. “You can tell? I’m not doing a good job of hiding it, then.”

“Why? They’re just a bunch of beach bums like me.” Aspen put the car in reverse.

“Exactly,” Kendra replied.

Aspen smiled and chose not to say anything. It felt like Kendra’s one-word response should just sit there because if Aspen had understood it properly, it meant that Kendra was nervous around her. It wasn’t because of the players they were about to hang out with or the fact that Kendra interviewed them and maybe felt a bit like an outsider trying to sit with the cool kids at lunch. It was because she was nervous about hanging out with Aspen.

Aspen tried not to smirk at the idea of making this woman nervous, and she had no right to do it anyway because Kendra made her nervous, too, but it took everything in her not to reach out and pull Kendra’s hand into her lap for the rest of the drive.

CHAPTER 16

Kendra walked into the restaurant and was instantly tugged by Aspen toward a side room that was more of a patio facing the beach.

“They have the whole room, I guess,” Aspen said.

“Hey,” DJ greeted. “Oh. Hey, Kendra. What’s up?”