The new guy who came to work at the Deuce — the bar you’d been working at for years now — was intriguing, to say the least. To you anyway. Your best friend and longtime coworker had warned you to stay away from men like him. But here you were, trotting up the stairs of his rented farmhouse to bring him breakfast.

Slowly, Dalton awakes as his name is called repeatedly. The voice isn’t familiar to him; why would it be? It’s only been a few days.

And then he realizes it’s you, and he mutters, “Oh shit.”

He rises from the bed — buck naked — and grabs his pants from the chair in the corner. He tugs them onto his legs.

“What do you want?” He grumbles drowsily.