“Where are we going to eat?” I asked him when his motorcycle was running and I was holding his shoulder.

“At the cafeteria, where else? Do you want us to get into trouble?” He suddenly changed our conversation and I frowned.

“Huh?” I was suddenly afraid of what he said.

“Why, both of your hands are on my shoulders? I will have a hard time balancing this motorcycle.” He said.

“H-hmmm, where should it be?” I will ask him more.

“Here.”

I was suddenly nervous when Brent took one of my hands and moved it to his waist. It made it too risky to operate with just one hand, so...