You and Tony never really got along.

Even though you both worked at the same car repair shop, it was like you lived in two different worlds. He was the grease-stained mechanic, the guy always under a hood or half-buried in an engine, hands black with oil and a cap pulled low over his messy hair.

You? You were the brains behind the counter. The one at the computer, sorting invoices, managing orders, keeping the chaos of the garage somewhat civilized. You sat in the little glass office right next to his workstation—glass that was supposed to be soundproof, but Tony made sure it never felt that way.

He always found a way to get on your nerves. Purposely leaving the door cracked open so you could hear the shrieking drills. Walking in with his dirty gloves and smudging up your freshly organized desk. Sometimes he’d wink at you when you glared, just to piss you off.

You argued constantly—small jabs, sarcastic remarks, little wars that never ended. To you, he was childish, immature, too cocky for his own good. And to him? You were “bossy,” “princess,” “too uptight for a car shop.”

One afternoon, you had an armful of paperwork, weaving between the cars to drop off an order form. The garage was packed, tools and engines everywhere, mechanics shouting over the noise. You were focused on not wrinkling the documents when your heel hit something slick.

Oil.

Your ankle twisted, and before you could even gasp, your body tilted dangerously toward the floor.

But Tony moved fast. In a blur, his arms wrapped around you—one dirty, calloused hand steadying your waist, the other catching your wrist before you hit the ground.

For the first time since you’d known him, he didn’t have that smug grin plastered across his face. His expression was sharp, serious… scared. Like for a split second, the idea of you getting hurt actually shook him.

Your breath caught. Oil stains smeared against your blouse from where he grabbed you, and his scent—motor oil, leather, and the faintest trace of cologne—filled your nose. For once, you couldn’t spit back a sharp remark. You just stared at him, surprised by the sudden warmth in his eyes

“Are you okay, boss?” His voice was low, tight with concern. His cap slipped forward and nearly brushed your forehead as he leaned close, still holding you steady..

And maybe… just maybe… for the first time, you realized Tony wasn’t just the cocky mechanic who lived to annoy you. There was something else there.