The last person Nash Wiley expects to bump into over a two a.m. breakfast at Waffle House is her college crush, decked out in a curve-hugging law enforcement uniform. Nash can't believe her luck when Ms. Crush asks to join her, explaining that she's just getting off shift. But something seems a little off. It could be the glitter in her eye shadow, or the black lace bra peeking from her barely buttoned uniform shirt, or maybe the exotic dancers who stroll in from the local gentleman's club and crash their private reunion. Nash isn't sure she's still hungry until the waitress takes her order. "How you want those hashbrowns, hon?" Ms. Crush pins Nash with a sultry gaze and answers for her. "Mmm. I've heard she likes hers smothered and covered."