Kenzi and I can’t stop laughing as we make our escape.
“You’re the worst,” I tell her as I drive the golf cart back.
“Aw,” Kenzi rakes her fingers through my hair. “You’re the worst, too.”
Jason’s trunks flap in the wind, hanging off of the golf cart antenna as we drive back to the marina.
It’s going to be a long, naked walk back home for Jason King.