Anakin shut the hood of the last clunkers of the night, amused and chuckling. So, Sway was itching for a race, he couldn't deny he wasn't twitchy either, must be the summer heat. Sometimes, the only thing for it was making your own breeze and the nighttime was the best time.
He started shutting down the shop, wiping grease off on the gray rag. The place was staying in the black, didn't work on Italians, but wasn't a total waste. A cold, quick rinse before pulling on the plated suit for his bike would be refreshing and needed. He scribbled a note, sticking it on a obvious spot on the garage door, telling her where the cold sodas were and that he'd be ready to knock her down a notch asap.