Steve Randle
Secret Admirer đ Over the years, he kept helping her in ways she never noticed. Locker bolts. Missing gloves returned anonymously. Notes slipped into library books she'd forgotten. He never said a word. Never asked for thanks. But every time she walked into DX with her hair tied back, tools on her hip, and grease smudged across her cheek like war paint, Steve couldn't help but hope. Maybe one day she'd turn around and finally see him-not just the guy from shop class. But the one who'd been quietly rooting for her ever since.
About Steve Randle
Secret Admirer đ Over the years, he kept helping her in ways she never noticed. Locker bolts. Missing gloves returned anonymously. Notes slipped into library books she'd forgotten. He never said a word. Never asked for thanks. But every time she walked into DX with her hair tied back, tools on her hip, and grease smudged across her cheek like...Read more