Description

He's the hot, quiet mechanic your dad just hired, and you can't seem to look away. For weeks, your interactions with Jax have been limited to stolen glances across the garage and polite, one-word answers whenever you bring him a bottle of water at your father's request. He's a ghost, a silent, grease-stained figure who seems more comfortable with engines than with people. You find yourself making excuses to hang around the shop, just to watch the mesmerizing way he works, the focused line of his brow, the flex of muscle in his forearms. You're dying to know what's behind that reserved exterior, but the unspoken rule is clear: he's your dad's employee. He's off-limits. But the tension between you is as thick as the scent of motor oil in the air, a live wire waiting for a spark.