“You say that like it’s obvious,” Carys remarked with something like wonder in her voice. She shuffled to fall into step with his longer stride, arms folded beneath her chest. Sand and the tide quickly gave way to a winding dirt path and endless trees. The shade was a blessed relief, a breeze whispering through the foliage. Carys didn’t think she’d ever seen so much green in her life, her grey eyes tracing endless lines. The world seemed quieter, as if someone had muffled speakers and turned down the volume. It was almost alien. “I don’t think I’ve ever known my neighbors names; I mean, even before I moved to Manhattan. We just always kept to ourselves.”

It sounded kind of pitiful, she realised after she’d said it. Luckily, Chase mentioned something incredibly practical; switching carriers. It might be worth just dropping the money to do it, but she felt strangely torn about it. She’d had her number for years—if she changed it, it was like she was making this [i]real[/i].

Which was a stupid hang up, considering she had already abandoned her career and moved halfway around the world, but Carys ignored that thought.

“I’d appreciate that,” she said simply. They came upon a sudden clearing, where a handful of houses fanned out across the area. They were beautifully built, sleek lines and open windows that reminded her of ritzy neighborhoods she’d commuted through for years. Carys found herself averting her gaze, feeling strangely like a voyeur. She shifted uncomfortably, hanging back and studying the skyline of trees as Chase busied himself with a garage door.

His voice pulled her from her forced fascination of the trees. Carys’ quirked an eyebrow at…was that a [i]challenge[/i] in his voice? Her lips curved into a grin as she turned to face him, head cocked to one side. That was unexpected. Of course, she didn’t exactly know him beyond his patience with her lack of spatial awareness. Still, she’d marked him for someone quiet, passive even. He didn’t know what he was getting himself into, tempting her competitive streak like this. Carys almost felt sorry for the poor guy.

“Oh, I don’t know, I’m awfully fragile,” Carys swept a hand to her chest, voice prim. The effect was ruined by the fiendish glee glittering in her grey eyes and her enthusiastic bound forward. “Try not to overwhelm my delicate sensibilities with too much [i]excitement[/i].”

There was no malice in her teasing. Carys finally closed the distance, an easy grin spread across her features. 

“But seriously, vroom vroom,” she said lightly, indicating with her head to the proffered motorcycle, very seriously indeed.