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“My mom used to struggle with anxiety when I was young,” he reveals.

“How does she deal with it?”

“That’s enough questions for now,” he snaps. “Why don’t you try to sleep until we get there.”

“Okay,” I agree, sensing that he really doesn’t want to talk about his personal life. Although there is no way I’m going to find any rest soon. I’m way too wired.

Turning my head away from him, I stare out the window and try to process the last few hours. So much of it doesn’t feel real. This whole situation is so unbelievable, my brain has a hard time accepting it.

We drive for a while, and I’m surprised when we end up in a suburban neighborhood instead of another secluded location. Streetlamps shine light onto the perfectly manicured yards and almost identical-looking houses. Adrian pulls into a driveway and parks in front of the double garage.

“Home sweet home?” I ask, unbuckling my seat belt.

“Something like that.” Adrian gets out of the car, and I follow suit.

He grabs an ominous-looking duffel bag from the trunk before walking up to the front door to unlock it.

Ignoring my mom’s nagging voice in my head telling me not to go to a second location with a stranger, I step into the living room and take in the uninviting black-and-gray space. A sectional is the biggest piece of furniture in the open area. There are some cabinets, a TV, and random decorative items, but nothing personal, no signs of anyone actually living here. The place looks like a staged home ready for an open house, if their target demographics are single men.

“It’s three a.m., you must be tired,” Adrian says matter-of-factly. “This house doesn’t usually host multiple people, so there is only one bed.” He looks woefully over to the couch like he’s contemplating offering to sleep there before continuing. “It’s a king, though, so we can just sleep in it together?”

“I can take the couch,” I offer, not liking the idea of sharing a bed with him, no matter the size of the mattress.

He seems surprised by my response but shakes his head. “It will actually be safer if you stay close. If someone finds us, they’ll most likely come through the front or the back door, both of which will lead them in here. Do you really want to be our first line of defense?”

“Since you put it that way, maybe sleeping in the same bed will be fine.” I laugh nervously. “I’ll try not to slobber on you this time.”

“That would be preferable,” he says, unamused. “You can lie down now if you want. The bedroom is the first door on the right.” He points at the hallway. “The bathroom is attached.”

“What are you gonna do?” I ask out of curiosity.

“Finding something to eat. Are you hungry?”

Now that I think about it, I actually am. “I haven’t eaten since lunch, so yeah, I could go for an extra-early-morning snack.”

“Sit down. I’ll dig through the supplies,” Adrian states, making his way into the kitchen.

I take a seat on one of the four chairs sitting around the round table. From here, I have a clear view of Adrian rummaging through the kitchen cabinets. He pulls out a few different cans, two bowls, and spoons.

“Is chicken noodle soup good with you?”

“Perfect.”

He opens the cans with a can opener and pours each in a bowl before putting them into the microwave. A few minutes later, he pulls out the hot soups and brings them to the table along with the spoons. The savory scent of chicken and spices meets my nose, and my stomach grumbles in response.

I scoop up a spoonful of soup and bring it to my lips. I’m not sure if it’s the near-death experience or the fact that I’m really hungry after all, but I’m pretty sure this is the best chicken noodle soup I’ve ever put in or around my mouth.

Finishing my food in record time, I place the spoon in my empty bowl and lean back in my seat, full and satisfied. “That was really good. Thank you for cooking.”

“I don’t think microwaving canned soup is considered ‘cooking.’”

“Agree to disagree,” I quip.

Adrian gets up, taking our empty bowls to the sink. “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to go to bed now.”

At the mention of going to bed, nervous energy flickers through me. “I don’t have anything to sleep in.”

“There are extra clothes in the dresser. I’m sure you can find something that will fit.”