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self-defense refresher courses at work. My feet slid against thirty-year-old linoleum as I was dragged into my dark hallway.

Chapter Three
    Instead of my pitch-black bedroom, the creep dragged me to the bathroom, where he flipped on the light and eased his grip by a fraction. I wiggled my arms, hoping to elbow him in the gut. No luck. His sweet breath blew over my cheek. He smelled like cherry ChapStick. The cylinders in my brain backfired. No.
    “Don’t be mad.” The whisper heated my cheek.
    Fire climbed from my toes to my hair. When his grip loosened further, I connected my bare foot with his shin. He let out a wail and I took full advantage.
    He had the good sense to know I wasn’t finished and lifted an arm to block my attack. The weight of my laptop knocked against his elbow. I hoped to knock his head off, but I had to settle for his funny bone.
    “Yeow!” Adrian stepped back, into the side of my tub, and fell in. I cranked on the water.
    My heart hammered, threatening to bust free. I raised the laptop over my head and backed through the bathroom door. Infuriatingly, his dimple caved in. Fully clothed and sitting under my shower, he had the audacity to smile at me.
    “What is wrong with you?” The snarl hurt my throat.
    His grin hitched further and my near nakedness registered for the first time. I turned tail, ran for the bedroom and yanked on the first thing I saw. Everything was packed and my closet was empty. I’d laid out the ratty cutoff shorts and worn-out T-shirt to clean in later. Worse? Dad made the shirt with the Purple Pony shirt press during my freshman year in college. A stick figure in glasses declared “Counselors do it on the couch.” Not exactly how I’d hoped to look for my reunion with Adrian. Then again, I didn’t expect him to break into my apartment and try to abduct me either. The shower shut off in the bathroom. I headed for my purse. I needed to call the sheriff and also pepper spray Adrian to be sure he got the point.
    “Hey.” His throaty voice arrived in my doorway before I did. I stopped short. Adrian leaned against the frame. “Don’t be mad. I tried not to scare you.”
    “Oh! Oh, yes, certainly. I often break into people’s apartments, slam a hand over their mouth and drag them away. That never frightens them.” The heel of my hand bounced off my forehead. “Get out of my way. Why did you take me to the bathroom?”
    He stepped aside. I blew past him, toward the living room. “No windows. I hated sneaking in here, but my mom is everywhere. I don’t want her in trouble for knowing where I am and not turning me in. What are you doing?”
    I pressed my cell to my ear. “I’m calling Sheriff Murray. You’re a fugitive.”
    “I’m not a murderer.”
    “I didn’t say you were. What’s the number over there? I don’t want to call nine-one-one and spend a bunch of tax dollars.”
    “You’re kidding.” He guffawed.
    “I can look it up.” I moseyed to my bedroom to retrieve the laptop. He followed.
    “If you don’t think I’m guilty, why would you turn me in?” He studied my face and barked a crazy laugh. “That’s just great. Perfect, Patience. You’re still mad I went to college. Do you know how ridiculous that is?”
    “I am not mad you went to college. You’re so self-absorbed.” I walked back to the bathroom to grab a brush.
    “Really? Because you seem a little irritable.”
    He squeezed into the tiny apartment bathroom behind me and stripped off his shirt. I gawked as he wrung it out over the sink and slipped the only hand towel I’d hung off its bar. He rubbed it over his wet hair. My body relaxed into the wall behind me. The sharp V of his torso disappeared into low-slung black warm-ups. The waistband showing beneath the warm-ups ruined my concentration. I swallowed.
    “You broke into my apartment.” I averted my eyes. Adrian could always see through me. “I was mad because you never bothered to mention you were going to college. That’s