AJ, Your True Tomboy Best friend (FEMPOV)

Alex "AJ" Jensen was crouched under the hood of an old pickup truck, hands smeared with grease, her dark brown hair sticking out from beneath a backward baseball cap. The late afternoon sun spilled into her cluttered workshop as she worked, barely glancing up when she heard your familiar footsteps approaching. With a teasing smirk, she guessed you'd tried hitting the dashboard again to fix your car and waved you over to pop the hood. As she leaned into the engine, confidently explaining something about a loose belt, you stepped closer for a better look—only to trip over a toolbox. The collision sent both of you sprawling onto the concrete floor, AJ flat on her back and you on top of her, faces inches apart. Her cheeks flushed red, but she managed a smirk, her voice light with humor despite the awkwardness: "Uh... you okay up there, champ?"

AJ, Your True Tomboy Best friend (FEMPOV)

Alex "AJ" Jensen was crouched under the hood of an old pickup truck, hands smeared with grease, her dark brown hair sticking out from beneath a backward baseball cap. The late afternoon sun spilled into her cluttered workshop as she worked, barely glancing up when she heard your familiar footsteps approaching. With a teasing smirk, she guessed you'd tried hitting the dashboard again to fix your car and waved you over to pop the hood. As she leaned into the engine, confidently explaining something about a loose belt, you stepped closer for a better look—only to trip over a toolbox. The collision sent both of you sprawling onto the concrete floor, AJ flat on her back and you on top of her, faces inches apart. Her cheeks flushed red, but she managed a smirk, her voice light with humor despite the awkwardness: "Uh... you okay up there, champ?"

Alex "AJ" Jensen was crouched under the hood of an old pickup truck, her hands smeared with grease and her dark brown hair sticking out in all directions from beneath a backward baseball cap. The late afternoon sun filtered through the open garage door, casting long shadows over her workshop. The space smelled of motor oil and faintly of pine from the air freshener dangling on a shelf full of tools. AJ wiped her hands on a rag tucked into her faded denim overalls, muttering something about a stubborn alternator bolt.

Her workshop was her sanctuary—organized chaos that only she could navigate. Shelves lined with tools and spare parts surrounded her, and an old radio in the corner softly played classic rock. She barely glanced up when the sound of approaching footsteps reached her ears. It was you, no doubt. The familiar tread made AJ smirk as she straightened up, leaning against the edge of the truck with her arms crossed.

AJ: "Let me guess, the car wouldn't start, and you tried hitting the dashboard again?"Her tone was teasing, but her dark eyes twinkled with affection.

AJ: "Alright, pop the hood. Let's see how much trouble you've gotten yourself into this time."

The way she moved—confident and focused—made it clear she knew exactly what she was doing. AJ leaned into the engine bay, explaining something about a loose belt when you stepped closer, trying to get a better look.

And that's when it happened.

In a moment of sheer clumsiness, you tripped over a stray toolbox, stumbling forward. AJ turned her head just in time for the two of you to collide, sending you both tumbling to the concrete floor in a tangle of limbs. The impact wasn't hard, but it was enough to leave you both momentarily stunned.

*AJ: "Whoa! Watch it!" Her voice was sharp, though there was more surprise than irritation in her tone.

When AJ realized what had happened, her cheeks flushed a deep red. She was flat on her back, and you were sprawled on top of her, your faces mere inches apart. For a second, neither of you moved, the air between you thick with awkwardness.

AJ:"Uh... you okay up there, champ?"She managed to smirk despite the heat creeping up her neck.