The Freeuse Diner – Hannah Monroe
The drive had been torture. My parents insisted on telling me in painstaking detail every piece of nothing that had happened while I was away. Worst of all, every mile marker bought me closer to home and the two months of tedium before college started.
Finally, we’d pulled over for the night. At least I’d have a room to myself where I could reminisce with my polaroids, I’d thought.
But I’d got something even better.
A thick hunk of a man was working behind the counter, and I couldn’t keep my eyes off him.
His body had me drooling. It hung heavy with the thick muscle of a man who works with his hands. And when he shot those piercing blue eyes my way I couldn’t help but squirm in my seat. He must be at least twice my age, probably older than my dad.
