Page 25 of Grease & Grips
He glances up. “That’d be okay?”
“Yeah, of course. We keep it for emergencies. Remember those science room showers from high school? It’s one of those. You gotta keep the cord pulled or it shuts off, but it'll do the job.”
He nods again. Then adds, a little softer, “Thanks.”
I shrug, suddenly needing to look anywhere but at him. “Gives me a sec to tidy up the shop before folks start rolling in.”
I watch him go, towel in hand, while I just stand here dumb as hell, covered in sugar and drowning in whatever this is. It wasn’t supposed to matter. Now it kinda does.
Replacing the rim is a fairly simple job. I’ve done it a hundred times. Muscle memory takes over. Jack it up, pop the old one off, align the new one, tighten the lug nuts so they don’t fly off on the highway and kill someone.
I should be able to do this blindfolded, but my hands keep hesitating. Tools slip. I drop the same damn bolt twice. Every time I glance toward the open garage door, my heart stutters, expecting to see Andrés already gone.
But he’s not. He’s still here. Still inside the shop only dressed now and sitting on that same busted old couch with his legs crossed, eyes on the floor, and fingers laced together like he’s holding something back.
The creak of the side door makes me jump. I wipe my hands on a rag and straighten just as Gary steps in, ball cap already stained with a full day’s sweat even this early.
“Well I’ll be damned,” he says, stopping mid-step when he sees Andrés. Then he clocks the towel on the ground. The faint smell of coffee. Me, still flushed and jittery. “I miss somethin’?”
I toss the rag aside. “Just a busy morning.”
Andrés stands, offering a polite smile as he crosses the shop. “I got here early. Mack was kind enough to come in and help me out. Trying to get back on the road.”
Connecting the dots, Gary squints at us both. “BMW… Griffin Road?”
Andrés lets out a sheepish laugh. “Yeah. I know. Shouldn’t have been out there.”
Gary chuckles, pointing a thumb my way. “Well, you’re lucky you got him. Mack’s our best. Little grouchy, but if you can stomach it, he’ll get the job done.”
The smirk Andrés offers when he catches my eye makes my stomach do a somersault. He claps me on the shoulder. “I can do grouchy.”
Gary gives a knowing grin, but I cut in before he can start ribbing me.
“Some mornings don’t start out the way you planned,” I say, nodding toward the car. “But that don’t mean they can’t still turn into something good.”
Feels like I’ve knocked Gary on his ass the way he’s looking at me. Head titled with those eye brows nearly at his hairline.
“Well I’ll be,” he mutters, a slow smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Look at you, soundin’ like someone who actually listens when I talk.”
There’s no hiding the flush in my face even if I try to act casual.
“Guess even a busted engine can get fixed if you’re willing to look under the hood.”
Andrés beams beside me as Gary whistles, long and low. “Hot damn, that was almost poetic.”
“See? Not too grouchy,” Andrés interjects.
Gary’s gaze bounces between us and he swallows hard. “I’ll leave you to it then, Mack.”
After Gary slips out through the now open garage door the quiet comes back, same as before, but now it feels like it’s staring me down.
Andrés steps in close. “Look at you. Sounding optimistic.”
“Can’t be totally doom and gloom.”
He takes a second, just watching me, then touches my face. Fingertips trace my cheeks and then lips like he’s trying to etch them into memory. “It’s better if you’re not.”
It hits me somewhere deep, but I manage a smile. “You should get on the road.”
