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“I wasn’t sure what to do. My two ideas were kissing you or slapping your face,” he admits.

“Well, I’m glad you went with option one,” I say.

“So you’re not into slapping?” Adrian asks, and I’m not sure whether he is serious or joking. “After seeing the kind of porn you are watching, I figured you would be into that. I guess you’re vanilla after all.”

“Vanilla?” I gasp. “I am not!” I don’t know why I’m getting so offended by this, but I feel as outraged as the old lady from the plane looked when my porn was playing.

Of course, technically I’m not anything, since I have never actually done the deed, but my mind is definitely not vanilla. My brain is plenty kinky, and the only reason I’m still a virgin is because no one can measure up to my fictional boyfriends. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself. My social anxiety and general awkwardness could have something to do with that as well.

“You have plenty of time to tell me what kind of freak in the sheets you are later, but right now, I need you in the car so we can get away from this place.” He points at something behind me.

I turn, finding a black SUV inches away from me. “That’s definitely a car a bad guy would drive.”

Once again, he doesn’t deny or argue. “Either get in or stay here, it’s your choice,” he says, walking past me and around the vehicle. “I don’t really care what you do, but I’m leaving.” He opens the driver’s-side door and gets in.

I look back at the burning building, surrounded by miles of desert. I have no phone, no way to get anywhere, and there is a crazy person on the loose who might still be after me. Taking all that into consideration, getting into the car with a virtual stranger who is most likely a criminal seems like a solid option.

The engine roars to life, and I hastily pull the door open to get in the car. My ass is barely in the seat when Adrian takes off, accelerating so quickly I’m pressed into the leather. The car starts beeping because I’m not buckled. The annoying sound has me in a hurry to click the belt in.

“Where are we going?” I ask, hoping he will at least answer that much.

“Safe house a few hours from here.” It’s not much information, but at least he is giving me something.

“I’m supposed to be at a book signing tomorrow. I don’t have my phone, my laptop, my wallet, or anything. My sister is going to know something is wrong when I don’t call her in the morning to check in. She is going to call the police right away, I know she will. What if they search for me, then my face ends up on milk cartons and Walmart posters? I hope they at least pick a decent picture of me. Not the one my mom took of me last Christmas when I had the biggest zit on my forehead. I literally looked like a second head was trying to grow out of my face—”

“Do you ever shut up?” Adrian cuts me off, making me realize I was saying everything out loud again.

“Sorry, and no . . . I mean, I try to, but keeping my thoughts inside my head is a hard task for me,” I explain. “Especially when I’m nervous. It’s like a comfort thing, I guess.”

“I’m sure that’s gotten you in trouble a few times,” Adrian muses.

“A few? Constantly would be more accurate. It’s a curse. My parents nagged me all the time about it growing up, teachers hated me. My sister is the only one who doesn’t really mind.”

“Is she a lot like you, then?” Adrian questions. “Your poor parents. I don’t know if I could handle two of you in the same room.”

“No, she is the opposite of me in every way possible,” I say with a smile. “She always tried to understand me, instead of trying to change me. She is the only person in my life who I feel like I can be one hundred percent me all the time with, without being judged.” I think about how much that sucks. Constantly trying to fit in, pretending to be someone people want me to be. “Do you have any siblings?” It seems like an innocent question, and the obvious one to keep the conversation going.

Adrian must not think so. His whole demeanor changes, as if I just asked him something deeply personal and offended him. Silence stretches between us. I guess he thinks this convo is over. Well, he is wrong. “So what’s the plan? We get to the safe house and then what?”

“We need to find out who is after me. Until then, we need to lie low and conduct some research. Once I eliminate the threat, you are free to go.”

“‘Eliminate the threat,’” I echo. “What are you? A spy? Secret agent? Special forces military?”

“You watch too much TV.” He snorts and shakes his head like he is disappointed in my assumptions.

“I actually don’t watch a lot of TV at all,” I argue. “I read, or write, pretty much all day, every day.”

“Maybe that’s the problem. You haven’t spent much time in the real world.” He grins.

Well, shit. I can’t argue with that. “You sound like my sister.” I huff, sinking farther into the seat. “It’s just hard for me to go out and be around people I don’t know. Unfamiliar places kind of scare me. Reading is safe. I can experience everything from the safety of my home.” I sit silently for a moment. “I know it’s stupid.”

“That’s not stupid,” Adrian disagrees, surprising me with a sudden shift in tone. His playfulness is gone, his voice turning serious, as if he really understands me. “It makes sense. Anxiety can be a bitch.”

“Thanks for saying that. Most people think I’m just weird. Do you have anxiety too?”

“No,” he simply states.

“So you know someone who suffers from it?” I ask, hoping he will elaborate.