The Mechanic

Chapter Four - "Got It?"

"The Mechanic"

Chapter Four

'Got It?'

Scene...

The Next Morning

Demi's POV

My eyes opened with the light of the morning sun, and I lied awake staring at the ceiling above me. The morning was quiet, peaceful; I felt as though I were walking on clouds. Then, slowly, I remembered where I was.

Groggily, I sat up, blinked a few times, and gazed around the small lobby. It appeared as though I was the only one in the room, as Joe was nowhere in sight. I stood then and laid the old woolen blanket down on the couch as I began to stretch. I made sure to rotate my neck and arms, cracking and popping a few joints here and there. Spending the night on that couch took a harder toll on my body than I had first imagined it would. I couldn't even begin to fathom how Joe may have felt, had he chosen to sleep on the floor.

I decided to look for him, starting for the large desk in the center of the lobby. He wasn't there, so I searched the office, knocked on the restroom door, and even peered out of the window to see if he was working outdoors. Still, he was nowhere in sight.

Finally, I decided to check the garage and made my way over to the large heavy door. I peeked through the small glass window in its center, did a quick scan of the room with my eyes, and opened the door.

"Joe? You in here?" I asked, stepping over the threshold and into the massive concrete room. I heard a heavy grunt-like sigh come from the back of the garage and made my way toward it, sure that I'd found him. "Joe?" I called again.

Slowly but surely, I came upon two feet sticking out from beneath a car.

My car.

My hand flew up to my mouth in disbelief; I was so shocked, I could barely move. Just as I was about to freak out in confusion, Joe slid out from beneath my precious Lambo.

"Why, good morning, Miss Demi," he said as he stood, that ridiculously charming smile spreading across his face at the sight of me.

"That's . . . that's my car," I managed to get out through the shock. Joe chuckled as he wiped the oil from his hands with an old rag.

"It sure is," he said. "She's quite the beauty."

"How did you get my car here?" I asked, and slowly, I began beaming. Joe wiped the sweat from his brow as he responded.

"Well, uh, you told me you broke down about a half a mile down the road, so I waited for the storm to settle a bit, shoveled my way out, and was able to push her back here."

I was floored.

"You pushed my car all the way back here? In this weather?"

Joe seemed to take my surprise lightly, as if what he did was no big deal.

"The icy roads were helpful, I suppose," he stated simply.

"I can't believe you'd do that for me," I said to him, my heart thudding with happiness. "Thank you so much." 

"Believe me, it was no fuss. I needed the exercise," he replied. Joe then went for his toolbox and began digging through it. I studied him carefully as he went about this, and began to question the validity of his words. Just as I was watching him, I could see that he was extremely lean and incredibly cut. Sometime before I'd gotten to him, Joe had pulled down the top half of his jumpsuit, which left it dangling at his waist. The t-shirt that he wore beneath it clung to his body like a magnet, and revealed an immense rippling of abdominal muscles that I would not have otherwise seen, had he not unzipped his suit. On top of all of this, Joe's biceps were incredibly large; so much, in fact, that his shirt sleeves appeared to be strained with any new move he made. I couldn't possibly imagine why he'd think he ever needed another day of exercise.