Chapter 2

The elevator doors closed in front of Jerome.

I took the last bus, then switched to a shared bike.

By the time I pedaled up to the front gate of my neighborhood, a black Maybach was already parked by the curb.

Jerome leaned against the car door, giving me a light wave of his hand. "You ride pretty fast."

I squeezed the brakes. "How do you know where I live?"

"I asked Katie."

Jerome unscrewed a bottle of water and handed it to me. "Let's try this again. I'm Jerome Howard, 25, single, and have never been in a relationship. Can I ask you out?"

I turned him down flat. "No."

He nodded smoothly. "You're free to reject me, and I'm free to ask you out."

I pushed my bike inside, and Jerome walked right alongside me.

"Also, about those three seconds earlier, it wasn't that I didn't take a liking to you. I was wondering why Katie kept such a gorgeous friend hidden away and only bothered to introduce you today."

I didn't answer. I just walked right past him and headed inside my apartment.

The next morning, I received a follow request. The message attached was just one line.

"Katie says if you don't accept, she's going out to find a new best friend."

I stared at it for two seconds and clicked accept.

Over the next six months, Jerome pursued me relentlessly.

On our first date, he was five minutes late. Without a word, I settled the bill and walked out.

He chased me all the way to the subway station, threw his car keys to his driver, and crammed onto the train with me.

"I got into a fender bender on the way. I left my assistant to handle it. I didn't mean to be late."

"Late is late," I said.

"Fine, my bad." He held open the closing subway doors. "Run all you want, but at least give me a chance to catch up and explain."

Later, I ran off to hide in a neighboring city, and Jerome searched for three days and three nights before tracking me down.

His expression darkened. "Demi Atkinson, can you stop making me worry all the time?"

Without a word, I turned around and ran again.

The next morning, I opened my door to find Jerome sitting right outside, his suit a wrinkled mess. "I take back what I said last night."

"And?"

"I shouldn't have snapped at you."

"And?"

"Next time before you run away, can you at least send a period?" He blocked my hand from shutting the door. "That way I can track your location instead of searching house by house."

For the next six months, Jerome didn't mess up once. He always arrived half an hour early for dates, replied to texts within five seconds, and never broke a single promise.

When I threw a tantrum, he cooed and coaxed.

When I turned to walk away, he never asked how far I'd go. He just caught up immediately.

After all that chasing and coaxing, I finally believed he would never leave me stranded.

Naturally, we made things official.

The day we made it official, Jerome took me to see an apartment.

I opened the deed. Only my name was on it.

He slipped the keys into my palm. "Whenever you feel like running again, run back here. I worry when you disappear outside. Even if we have a massive falling out one day, this place is still yours. The lock won't stop you, and I won't kick you out."

I clutched the keys, not turning away for the very first time.

In the days that followed, Jerome spoiled me rotten.

I hated socializing, so he always stepped in and handled it for me.

I didn't feel like explaining, so he gave in first.

When I said that I wanted sugar cakes from the south side of town at midnight, he drove over and stood in line for two hours.

Katie smugly gloated about it for ages. "Told you Jerome could handle you. Avoidant, huh? Put you next to him, and you can't even keep your distance."

I thought so too. I thought I finally didn't have to run anymore.

That was until the second year of our relationship, when I pushed open the front door and spotted two suitcases sitting in the entryway.

A young woman wearing my slippers came running out of the master bedroom. "You must be Demi, right?"

She affectionately grabbed my arm. "I'm Cindy Grant, Jerome's childhood friend."

I pulled my arm back.

Acting completely oblivious, she pointed at the luggage. "A pipe burst upstairs at my place, so Jerome told me to stay here for a few days."

With that, she turned toward the feature bookshelf wall in the living room. "He really built a bookshelf wall here! Back in high school, I told Jerome that our future home had to have an entire wall of books. Who knew he'd actually remember that after all these years?"

As I stared at the bookshelf wall Jerome said was custom-made for me, I reached for the doorknob, instantly wanting to run away.

Behind me, Cindy asked with a smile, "Demi, you just got back. Where are you going now?"

My hand froze.

This was my house, the retreat Jerome had promised me.

Yet now, a total stranger was wearing my slippers, standing inside my home, and asking me where I was going.

For the very first time, I realized I had nowhere left to run.