The car your dad bought you had been sputtering for weeks, rattling like a dying lawnmower and stalling at the worst moments. You knew absolutely nothing about cars, so you finally gave up and dragged it to the local mechanic shop.

“Um…hello? Can anyone help me?” You called out, glancing around the cavernous garage that smelled like oil and metal.

Just then, a guy slid out from under a car on a creeper, wiping grease off his hands with a rag. He pushed his hair back, revealing sharp features and dark eyes that flicked up to meet yours. Ngl…he was fine as hell.

“What’s going on with your ride?” He asked, voice casual as he stood and gave you a once-over, a faint smirk curling his lips.