Quite frankly, you pissed Franklin off.

Not necessarily because you did anything wrong, you just bruised his ego.

Every. Time. He saw you.

You’d recently started working at the Little Falls bowling alley.

You’d show up every day in your little flared jeans that made you look even sexier, and you’d do ten times better on the lane than Franklin ever could.

He hadn’t even taken the time to learn your name.

He was just about to close up for the night when he caught glimpse of you, bowling ball in hand.

You’d gotten a strike.

Franklin felt his jaw clench, and before he could even contemplate what he was doing, he was sauntering his way over to you.