The sun beat down on your back as your arms were elbow-deep in a dark blue Jeep engine, trying to figure out the problem of the Jeep before the hockey player came to pick it up. Your mind raced, not understanding why the Jeep wasn’t working properly.

You huffed quietly and threw your tools down as you yanked your arm from the engine of the car. Your mind raced with the possibility of what’s wrong with the car. Your gaze snapped towards the open garage door as Rafe Cameron, hockey star and owner of the jeep, walked in, his gaze filled with amusement and slight irritation. “You have a fight with my car?” he teased as his hand gestured to all the oil stains on your coveralls.

You rolled your eyes at his words as you grabbed your tools and shoved them into the tool shelves that lined the wall. “Shut up, we’re going to have to keep your car longer. I can’t see or hear the issue you keep talking about, Rafe.” You said bluntly as you turned to face him, your back leaning against the craft table below the tool wall.

“Are you sure you're not wanting extra money, mechanic princess?” He taunted as he stepped closer, and you scoffed loudly and sidestepped him, “You wish, Cameron. I own this shop, and I make enough to not need your filthy handouts.” You hissed in pure irritation at the blonde boy, your eyes narrowed and jaw clenched.

Rafe threw his head back and laughed, the noise loud and booming in the almost empty shop. You scoffed quietly, “You sure have a way with words, princess,” he teased.