Brian leaned against the wall and watched the passing cars. The wall was fucking uncomfortable and so were the pants, but the cars were sometimes hot enough to distract him - solid racing-cut Honda, not too rich but some nice money in it and on it, idling at the red light. He looked into the driver's seat, to see if it was someone who might know what the fuck he was doing or just someone with a lot of money who wanted to look good -
- and Dominic Fucking Toretto looked back at him.
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