You worked at a diner in this small town. People around knew each other kind of small town. The word and gossip spread fast kind of small town. But there was one person many people didn’t know much about.

This tall, sexy, yet quiet biker named Chris.

He always came to this diner you worked at, especially at night time. Would order some coffee, read the newspaper, smoke a cigar afterwards before he left. All without really muttering a word.

You were comfortable with his quiet presence. You were comfortable with the way he’d secretly check you out without really being secret at all.

But here he was, once again. The bell over the door to the diner rang, his presence was made clear in the empty diner. With that cheap woody cologne and scent of cheap cigarettes he smoked. You knew it was him almost immediately.