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“It’s fine,” he says. “I’ve got this.” He starts walking toward Chet, who is now practically yelling at another guest. He’s slurring his words, but he’s clearly upset, and he’s starting to draw attention.

“He wasn’t even invited,” I say, following Noble.

“Hattie,” Rowe grabs my arm. “I was looking for you. Chet is hitting on everyone. He just propositioned Poppy out by the bathrooms.”

“Oh my gosh.” I look at Noble.

“I’ve got it.” He presses on, and when he reaches Chet, he grabs onto his arm, forceful, but not disruptive. “Hey, buddy.”

Chet takes a second to focus on Noble. “You! I’m not your buddy.”

“Tonight, we’re buddies,” Noble says, grip firm. “You wanna know why?”

Chet tries to squirm away. “No.”

Noble doesn’t let go, and starts walking toward the back of the barn, removing Chet from view. I follow behind, apologizing to the other guests, and once we’re in what used to be a stable but is now serving as a closet, Noble kicks a crate over and plops Chet down.

“Look,” he says. “Your night is over.”

“No, man.” Chet waves him off. “I’m just getting started.”

Noble shakes his head. “No. You’re not.”

“I don’t take orders from you,” he says, trying to stand but it’s like his legs didn’t get the memo, and he drops back down onto the crate.

He turns his attention to me. “You know what this guy is really like, right?” He blows out a breath that I imagine reeks of alcohol. “He’s not a good guy, Hattie. Never was.”

Noble’s jaw twitches, and I want to step in, but before I can move, he holds up a hand in my direction.

“Chet, you’re drunk,” Noble says, evenly. “I’ll drive you home.”

My eyebrows shoot up. He’s going to what now?

“Can’t,” Chet says unevenly. “Jenny kicked me out.”

I only feel slightly guilty that my first thought is, Good for Jenny.

Noble looks at me, then back at Chet, and sighs. Then, he shifts his weight, pulls out another milk crate and sits down next to Chet.

“Man, I’m sorry to hear that,” Noble says.

It takes me a second to square the image in front of me. Noble looks at Chet, genuine concern laced across his forehead, and I wonder if I’m having an out-of-body experience.

“She’s everything, man,” Chet says, to no one in particular. “And I screwed up. I took her for granted. Made her feel like everything was all about me.”

This does not surprise me.

“Is she right?” Noble asks.

Chet’s eyes jump to Noble’s. “No!”

She is absolutely right, but I don’t say so.

But after a beat, Chet’s face crumples, and he says, “Yes.”

Noble looks at me, and I widen my eyes, not sure what I should do. It’s not like I can call an Uber to come get him.

“Maybe it’s not too late,” Noble says.