Heat Stroked

When my childhood best friend’s dad, who I’ve had far too many secret fantasies about, walks into the diner where I waitress and hits on me, I have two options:

  1. Point out our unfortunate connection and that if he hadn’t been such a workaholic and absent father while his daughter was growing up, he might have recognized me.
  2. Take advantage of the fact that I was a late bloomer who didn’t fully develop until after high school, and play along.

And as a bonus, because of course I went with option two, our seductive banter isn’t limited to the two of us since his super hot surgeon friend is just as naughty.

Nothing like good, naughty (nothing will come of it, right?), fun.

Except they come back, and I’m not any more able to make a good choice this time than the day before.