Page 95 of Shadowing You

She swung her leg over the bike. The handlebars were warm where his hands had been. Everything else was exactly as it should be.

“Wait.” He held a hand out. “Let me take your bag.”

She’d forgotten the backpack he’d given her. She slipped the straps off and handed it to him.

He hooked it on his arm and swung on behind her. His hands settled on her hips. His breath was warm against her hair. “You’re right. This is nice.”

“I know what you’re doing, trying to soften me up.”

“Of course not, my beautiful, wonderful wife. I’m just dazzled by you.”

“Hmm.” She turned the key, and the engine caught and rose into a thin whine. She turned the throttle, and the bike leapt forward harder than she meant it to.

Ethan grunted. She felt him pitch back, then clutch her waist.

“Sorry,” she said.

“Sorry I didn’t land on my butt?”

Perhaps. A little.

The road unspooled in front of her, dappled in sun and shadows. The wind lifted her hair off her neck as the trees blurred past in long streaks of green.

This felt right. This was better.

The narrow road had widened enough that two cars could pass, though aside from an old tractor, they hadn’t seen anyone. Twice they’d hit forks, but Ethan had known which way to go. He’d stolen a phone when he’d stolen the moped, which he’d explained a while back.

“I think I’ve got the map memorized enough to get us to the next town.” He’d spoken loudly so she could hear him over the engine. “I’m gonna toss it.” And then he’d paused and added, “Unless you have a better idea.”

Ha. Look at Ethan, growing as a person. She wished she could think of a way to keep it, but that phone could be tracked. “Go ahead.”

He’d pitched it into the woods, and she followed the road for another hour, until it came to a T.

She stopped.

Even though the engine wasn’t as loud when they weren’t moving, Ethan leaned close to her ear and told her which way to go, his breath warm on her neck.

She liked how it felt to be nestled between his knees, his broad chest at her back. It felt right.

Last night had felt right too.

She hit the gas and made the turn, not thinking about the gentle kisses that had felt like promises, right up until he’d pushed her away and declared it bedtime.

Why, though? She’d felt enough wanting in his touch that she didn’t think it was a lack of desire. They were married, so it was right for them to be together.

Why did he stop? He’d claimed, back in Enshi City, that it was painful to lie beside her and not touch her. Yet, somehow it also seemed to pain him to touch her.

There was a reason, and she needed to know what it was—even if she was afraid of what he would tell her.

The bike crested a hill, and then the road dipped into a narrow valley. Houses were peppered along each side—tile roofs, low walls of concrete. Terraced rice paddies decorated the hills, golden brown and full of water.

At the top of the next hill, another valley opened, this one even larger. There were no high-rises, but a factory chimney pumped a column of gray smoke into the sky, and a haze of dust and exhaust hung over the streets. Trucks crawled along the main road ahead of them.

She slowed, angled onto the shoulder, and killed the engine.

The quiet here was different than it had been at the cabin. A low din rumbled in the distance, a thousand engines humming.

The trees here were sparse, too far apart to hide behind.