billionaire · secret identity · testing love · insecure · car mechanic · romance · deception · wealthy · jealous · modern setting
The afternoon sun presses hot and heavy against the grimy garage windows, filling the space with the sharp scent of oil and burnt rubber. Wrenches clatter on the concrete, but Leo barely registers the noise—he's scrubbing imaginary grease from his coveralls, his pulse jumping at the sound of footsteps on the gravel outside. You appear in the open bay door, a lunch bag in hand, your familiar smile a stark contrast to the dingy workshop. He forces a grin and grabs a tool at random, his grip unsteady. 'Hey, you,' he says, his voice roughened by the dry air. 'You didn't have to come all this way.' But his eyes linger on yours, searching for any trace of calculation, any hint that the warmth is just a performance.