Page 17 of Frosty the Biker

“Then let me spell it out for you.” She leaned in close, and I could smell the cool outdoors on her and the lingering scent of her perfume. “Little blonde twit you worked with.”

“What about her?” I was so fucking confused.

“Oh my God. This is unbelievable. You really must think I’m an idiot,” she grumbled. “A few days after the lipstick incident, I felt bad for being so jealous. I was bringing you lunch and cookies as an apology. As I was walking in the store, she was standing outsidetalking to you on the phone. And imagine my surprise when I heard her tell you that she’d be willing to give you a blow job—again—in your truck! Also, imagine that her lipstick was the same. Exact. Color. As the one in your truck. Oh, and I know all about your little trip to the zoo when you were supposed to be working doubles and you wouldn’t be able to take an actual lunch. Rememberthat?”

“Actually, no. I have no clue what you’re talking about. Tiffany never wore lipstick to work a day in her life. She was in high school—I wouldn’t have touched her, even if you didn’t exist. I never in mylifegot a goddamn blow job from her and I sure as hell never talked to her on the phone about going anywhere, let alone the zoo. The night I gave her a ride, we all closed, and her car wouldn’t start. We were in the parking lot, and she asked for a ride. Never talked to her on the phone that night either. What the fuck do you take me for?” I was astonished with the story she’d told me.

“I heard her say your name on the phone. Shetoldme she was dating you! And she seemed very excited to tell me,” she angrily whispered.

“Well, she is a damn liar because that never happened. If I knew where she was right now, I’d take you to her and demand she tell you the truth. Or maybe it was a different Dalton, because it sure as hell wasn’t me,” I insisted. “You were myworld,Ryian. I would never have cheated on you. In fact, the reason I was taking on all those extra shifts is because I wanted to be able to take you nice places and get you nice things.”

She scoffed and rolled her eyes.

I dug in my pocket and pulled out my keys. Then I set them on the table with a clatter. “In fact, I’d been scraping money together for two years for this.” I stuck my thumbnail in my keys and unwound one of the items. Then I slapped it on the table.

Eyes wide, she sat there not speaking while staring at the diamond ring I’d placed before her. Tentatively, she reached out with one finger to pull it closer and spin it around. She blinked and her eyes went glossy before she rapidly blinked several more times.

“This is the one at the pawn shop I told you I wanted,” she whispered. “I was so upset the next time we went, and it was gone.”

“Yeah, because I had put it on layaway. I picked it up the day you found the lipstick in my truck.” I fell back in my seat and ran a hand through my hair. I was shaking and I hated it. This wasn’t how I planned this. Nor was this how I intended to feel anytime I imagined running into her again over the years.

“I can’t believe you still have it. Why?” she asked in a confused tone.

“Oh, it almost ended up in the river with my phone. Except in my inebriated state, I couldn’t get the fucking thing off my keychain. Thankfully, I had the tiniest bit of sobriety that crept in and reminded me I needed those keys for my truck or I was walking everywhere,” I muttered.

Was that a smile she almost had before she rolled her lips between her teeth?

Taking a chance, I leaned forward again and placed my fingers so they were touching hers. “I want to be a part of my son’s life. I want to help you raise him. Even if that means we coparent from different sides of town. I’m twenty-nine years old. I’m not a child and neither are you. We are capable of working together. Please, Ryian, do this with me. Let me show you that we can give our son a good life even if we aren’t together.”

“I don’t—” she closed her eyes.

“Ryian,” I begged.

She swallowed hard. Then she opened her pretty hazel eyes to look at me.

Before she could say anything, the old man from the back corner walked by. He paused at our table. “The is the time of year for second chances. Merry Christmas you two.” He set a small, wrapped package down on top of a paper that was ripped at both ends.

We watched dumbfounded as he waved at the waitress and placed a red and green plaid scally cap on. He then left the diner, got in an old red classic pickup truck, and drove away.

“What the hell was that?” I asked.

“I have no idea,” she replied.

We both looked at the box. I reached out and slid the paper out from underneath it.

Ryian gasped when she saw what it said.

There were three lines with two boxes on each—one that saidNaughtyone that saidNice. After that they read Dalton, Ryian, Anson. Each one had the “nice” box checked.

The waitress came by our table. “More cocoa?” she asked staring pointedly at our untouched mugs.

“Who was that?” I asked her, motioned toward the table he was sitting at.

She glanced back at his table, then at us. “The old guy? That’s Kris. He hangs out here a lot this time of year. Does a lot of paperwork in that booth. Then he’s gone until next year. I think he might be a snowbird.” She shrugged, then walked off. “Let me know if you want anything else.”

I’m pretty sure my mouth was hanging open as far as Ryian’s was.

“Do you think it’s rigged?” she asked as she pointed at the box.

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