I don't have time for a relationship, not even with the adorably dorky vet I can't seem to stop bumping into. *sigh * pass the oil and lube
Between running a garage full of beefed up, gear head mechanics and bailing my idiot brother out of trouble every other week, the last thing I have time for is a relationship.
I've tried it too many times, and the ridiculous reasons I always find to end it have become a running joke around the garage. But I've learned my lesson. No. More. Boyfriends.
I don't care how many times Porter falls asleep drunk in my bed or how cute he looks covered in oil smears while I teach him how to fix up the vintage car he has rusting away in his garage, I'm not going to fall for him.
Even if I did, what do a mechanic and a veterinarian have in common anyway?
It's better if we're only friends. friends who occasionally fiddle with each other's crankshafts.
