hola, uno, and burrito over and over, but in alternating octaves. He sounds more like a dying cat than a singer, but I’m sure I sound just about the same as I cackle uncontrollably.
“Hello one burrito?” I jeer in between fits of laughter.
“Just wait, it’ll be the next big hit.”
The track switches to a different song, but it sounds practically identical to the one we were just listening to, and I find myself humming ‘hello one burrito’ along in my head. “I wouldn’t be so sure of yourself.”
“Maggie, I’m nothing if not immensely sure of myself.” He leans his head toward me in emphasis. “And handsome, irresistible, and sexy—we’ve already confirmed all of those things.”
“I want to know more, Ran.” I stare out the window at the trees that blur past, their forms blended together with the earthy tones of the mountainside. Light dustings of freshly fallen snow coat their branches, and the temperature drops significantly lower the higher up we climb. I think a working heater should have been on the list of prerequisites for my new vehicle because the temperature in the cab can’t be any warmer than outside of it.
“What more do you want to know?” Ran asks, sliding out of his jacket while keeping a knee on the wheel. He stretches it out to me and I sling it over my shoulders, shrinking down into his body heat it retains. “I’m an open book.”
“Your tattoos,” I begin, feeling a hot blush creep up on my skin. It’s obvious to both of us that I’m thinking about him with his shirt off, and the way his mouth pulls up just at the side lets me know he clearly likes what I’m envisioning.
“My tattoos?”
“Yeah.” I pull the collar of his jacket all the way to my ears and tuck my hands deep into the sleeves. “What do they mean?”
The truck’s tires hug the curves of the road as they wind up the mountain. I try to stare straight ahead instead of out my passenger window because the sheer cliff that slopes off the shoulder immediately next to me lurches my stomach into my throat. It’s about the same feeling I’m experiencing as I recall Ran’s naked upper body, actually.
“Honestly, the drawings don’t really mean that much. They’re just sketches I did back in high school and I thought they might look cool on my arm.”
“Really?” I’m trying not to shiver all over, so I tuck my legs up under me and wrap Ran’s jacket around them, too. I’d be worried about stretching it out if it were my own jacket, but Ran is so much bigger than me that there’s plenty of room for my entire body to curl up inside his coat. “So you just wanted to permanently mark up your body with something that looked ‘kinda cool’?”
“No.” Ran’s biceps tremble and I’m sure he has to be just as freezing as I am, yet he doesn’t ask for his jacket back. It almost makes me feel guilty for wearing it, but I’m sure he’d deny it if I tried to offer it to him. “I wanted to prove to myself that needles didn’t bother me anymore.” His arms cross over one another as we round another tight curve and the dark design on his skin slips out from under his shirtsleeve. “I wanted needles to represent more in my life than the awful memories I’d always associated with them. I figured if they could draw something cool on my arm, then it might help me forget a little.”
Though I’m blanketed under his jacket, I slide my left arm out slowly and reach across the space between us. I don’t think he sees me, because when I cuff his sleeve and push it up over his shoulder, Ran’s frame tenses quickly before he relaxes under my touch. I run my finger along the designs, feeling the goose bumps that draw up under my nail.
“I don’t know. It sounds stupid.”
“It’s not stupid, Ran,” I say, outlining the curves and twists marked there. “It’s beautiful.”
“I wouldn’t go that far.” Ran shoves his sleeve back down over his shoulder and shifts his weight in his seat.
“No.” I pull my arm back to my side. “It’s beautiful that you think the way you do.” I ease into the warmth of his jacket. The snow has started falling steadily on the windshield and Ran flips the wipers on to push the flakes to the edges of the window. “I’ve never met anyone