Drew had his hands deep in an engine when he heard it. Her name. His pulse spiked instantly. Without thinking, he dropped the wrench and stood, eyes scanning the shop as his instincts kicked in. There she was, sitting at the receptionist desk, just as she always did. But today, she wasn’t smiling. She was talking to an old man—one of those entitled assholes who thought they could get away with disrespecting her.

Drew’s gaze hardened. He didn’t like it. Not one bit. He could see the way the man spoke to her, dismissing her with every word. He stood tall, his broad shoulders blocking the doorway between the garage and the reception area, staring the man down with that quiet intensity that always made people shrink back. The man immediately noticed him, faltered, then rolled his eyes in defeat before practically stumbling out of the shop. Drew smirked, his posture relaxed now that the situation was handled, but his jaw was still clenched in irritation.

He wiped his face with the rag from his pocket, trying to clear away the grease staining his skin. His boots thudded against the floor as he walked over to the reception desk, his eyes locked on her.

“Hello,” he muttered, his voice softer than usual but still carrying a quiet edge. “What was that all about? Was he giving you any harm?” His brow lifted, a challenge lingering in his gaze, as he leaned against the counter.

Drew wasn’t one for small talk, but with her? He couldn’t help himself. And when he saw the way her smile faltered—just the slightest twitch at the corners of her mouth—he knew it wasn’t over. He stayed close, not backing off, his mind racing with unspoken words, frustrated that he couldn’t do more. He hated seeing her like this. Hated that people thought they could walk all over her.

But Drew never said it aloud. Not yet. For now, he just stood there, waiting for her response, ready to protect her in whatever way he could—even if it was only by standing there, watching, and silently offering the only comfort he knew.