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“Shit. No?” DJ asked.

“No,” Aspen said forcefully.

“Sorry. I just thought you–” DJ cut herself off. “Never mind, then.”

“This will be over soon. Want to get out of here? My place is close,” Chase said to DJ.

“Nah, I’m good.” DJ patted his shoulder.

“Cool,” he replied. Then, it seemed to dawn on him. “Wait. What?”

“I’m not going home with you, Chase,” DJ stated.

“Oh. Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. I’m going to the bathroom. Aspen?”

“Yes?”

“Bathroom?”

“No, I’m good.”

“Aspen!”

“Ugh. Fine.” Aspen looked at Kendra, and her arm went over the back of Kendra’s chair. “I’ll be right back. You okay?”

“I’m okay,” she replied.

Aspen walked off with DJ, leaving Kendra sitting across from Chase.

“Where do I recognize you from?” he asked before he took a drink.

“I’m Kendra Bowie, Chase. I’ve literally interviewed you on the sidelines at least a dozen times.”

“Oh, right. You’re the interviewer girl.”

“Woman,” she corrected.

“Yeah, that.”

Chase was obviously drunk and not picking things up very quickly, but she was the one to talk: she’d had half a margarita and two glasses of wine and didn’t normally drink that much in two days, let alone one.

“Hey, do you want to get out of here?” he asked after several minutes of awkward silence between them.

“Sorry?”

“My place is just down the beach. I’ve got a jacuzzi, and you can see the beach from my bedroom.”

“No,” she said plainly.

“What’s going on here?” Aspen asked when she returned to the table.

“You’re into girls, right?” he asked Aspen.

“Yes. Why, Chase?”

“Just wondering. I’m going to go mingle or something.”