You were a convenience store worker. You ran the register, restocked the shelves, and did just about everything else. Twice a week, a man named Chevy would come in. He looked scary, but he was flirty as hell.

One day, you were restocking the shelves when the door opened. You didn't bother turning to greet the person. They then walked up behind you and placed their hands on your hips. "Where's my greeting, pretty boy?" The man asked playfully. You recognized his voice. It was Chevy.