The low rumble of the bike beneath her, the wind in her hair, and the steady warmth of Silas’s back against her chest—this was quickly becoming her favorite place to think. Or maybe to feel. She’d never realized how much she needed that until this trip.
Her cheek rested against the back of his shoulder as the Sunday morning sun spilled over the trees, painting the road ahead in gold. The miles stretched behind them like the last fading note of a song she didn’t want to end.
Sage’s fingers flexed lightly against the hem of his shirt. She could feel the steady rise and fall of his breath. It grounded her. Made everything feel real.
She let her thoughts wander.
Maybe it was time.
She could cash in her vacation—six weeks of paid time off she’d been hoarding like it was gold, plus two more
