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“I’m not dating him,” I cut him off. “I’m fucking him.”
He’s silent for a bit, but then he gives a single nod.
“Use protection.”
“Thanks for the advice, Dad.”
He pats me on the knee. “Just remember, son. Two things in life you should not play around with. Your dick and matches. Because if you fuck up, you’ll get that burning feeling.”
I slap him on the back of the head, and he ducks with a laugh.
“Hey! Driving here,” he protests, still laughing.
He drops it after that.
Perceptive, but at least he knows how to read the room.
The rest of the day is uneventful. I go to class, then straight to the library, where, once again, as is becoming an annoying habit, I do my best to push Ryker out of my mind. The day after that goes much in the same vein. It’s another long one, so by the time I make my way to the diner for my shift, I’m exhausted.
“Hey, you,” Indy says distractedly when I pass her on my way to the kitchen.
I unwind my scarf from around my neck and shrug off my coat. I nod to Liam, the new cook who started working here after Francis sold the place and the new owners decided to be normal employers. We now have air conditioning and people who show up to work and everything. Plus, the diner’s not open as late now, so I’m working fewer hours with pretty much the same pay
It’s not the worst deal.
I blink.
That’s an unexpected level of optimism.
Honestly, I’m a bit suspicious about the fact that things aren’t complete shit in my life.
It’s weird.
Indy elbows me to the side when she passes.
“This is a daydreaming free zone. Pull your weight, babe.”
“Sorry,” I say.
She smiles at me, and we get to work.
My shift passes quickly enough, and I smell like fries after. The usual.
The only unusual thing happening today is that when I step outside, I find Ryker standing there, leaning against the side of his car.
And I’m not even surprised.
I go to him.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
He looks down at his feet for a second, then up at me. And he smiles. His bright golden-boy smile that is too irresistible for his own good.
“I’m your ride,” he says.
I have to laugh at the sheer audacity.
“Is that so?”
