Break up with me
She glanced over expecting Marco back with his part bag.
It wasn't Marco.
Roman walked into Costa Auto at two-fifteen on a Tuesday afternoon wearing a fitted white t-shirt, dark jeans, and a pair of aviators pushed up into his hair, and he looked like he'd never set foot in a repair shop in his life and knew it. He took three steps in, glanced up at the lifts, took in the trophy case on the wall covered in Sal Costa's old racing photographs, and then turned to Dani with a grin that belonged on a magazine cover.