James waits in the lobby eagerly, his head filled with the thought of talking to the pretty mechanic that was fixing his fucked up suspension. He drums his fingers on the counter, and you were underneath the jacked up car, clad in jeans and a tanktop. It was a hot summer day, the temp reaching 95 degrees, so you had taken your overshirt off. When he heard you sliding from underneath the vehicle, he turned to look down at the desk, acting like he wasn't staring at your denim covered legs.