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When their dance finally ended Veronica and Jason lifted themselves up, leaning back against the leather seats. She felt the coolness of the upholstery against her back, Jason's arm wrapped around her shoulders, his body next to hers. They looked out the front window and saw the view that the bluffs gave, the surface of water only just visible from this angle.
She felt herself yawn and turned to nuzzle against Jason's chest, putting her hand on him. As she ran her fingers over his skin, she felt the raised bumps of his scars. She opened her eyes and focused, seeing the criss-crossing lines, white against his skin. He'd never talked about them before, and she'd never inquired. She could hear his heartbeat, almost quiet inside of his chest.
"Jason?" she said.
"Mmm?"
"Where did these scars come from?"
She felt him stiffen for just a second.
"They're nothing," he finally said. "I got them a long time ago."
Veronica ran a finger down one of them, following the path it made.
"There are so many of them," she said under her breath, and suddenly Jason's hand grabbed hers, moving it down to his thigh.
"Don't," he said, his voice sounding flat.
"I'm sorry," Veronica said.
She tried running her fingers over his thigh instead, keeping with the intimacy from before. But the moment was gone.
"Who's car were you working on earlier?" she asked, attempting to break the silence.
"This guy Zander's. He got my number off of Kyle. It's a pretty easy job. I should have it done by tomorrow."
"Wow," she said. "How long have you been doing that kind of thing on your own?"
"Ever since I learned, when I was a kid."
"And you learned it yourself? Like out of a book?"
"No, my- … I was taught."
"By who?" Veronica asked. She was curious to know where you learned something so practical.
Jason paused a second before saying, "My old man."
"Oh, wow," she said. "I think that's great that your dad would teach you something that you can use later on in life. My dad never taught me anything, except how to do my taxes and even then I still screw it up every year. Do you two still work on cars together often?"
"Look, can we just drop this please?" Jason said, and Veronica realized that his chest was rising and falling quickly. "I work on my own, okay? I haven't needed him for a long time."
"Oh, yeah, I'm sorry," Veronica said quickly. She felt herself blush as Jason's body gave off a different kind of heat. He was still breathing heavily but he didn't say anything. The tension between them grew.
"I'm sorry," Veronica said. "I didn't mean to bring up anything to hurt your fee-"
"What part of 'drop it' don't you understand?" he snapped, cutting her off. "This is none of your business, all right? I fix up cars, and I've been doing it for fifteen years. I'm fucking good at it, and it's no thanks to my old man who left me without even saying goodbye. So you can just keep your prying questions to yourself, okay?"
Veronica felt her throat start to tighten up.
"Okay," she got out. "I'm sorr-" but Jason was getting up, pushing her off of him.
"Stop saying you're sorry," he said. He wasn't looking at her. "Look, I should get back to the shop. I've got work I need to do."
He grabbed his pants off the floor and started pulling them on. Veronica blinked hot tears back. She grabbed her own clothes and put them on as well. When the two were dressed Jason got out, holding the door open for her. She climbed out and he shut it behind her. Immediately he opened the driver's side door.
