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“Running Man came back?Are you all right? Why didn’t you call me right away? You should have come over. You should?—”
“No, no. Not him. Like I told you last night, Running Manisn’ta creeper. It was Maxim.”
“Your landlord broke into your apartment?”
Brokewas probably not the right word, since the dude had keys. “He was waiting for me where I sleep. Eating my Bugles.”
“Eww. You really should go to the cops, Lay. And stay with me and Oscar. I can probably sneak out of work early and?—”
“No. You stay. I’m good. I’m going to the hardware store for extra precautions. I’m going toHome Alonethe bananas out of my place, and if he even steps foot in my apartment again, he’s going to regret it.”
The voices in the background on Morgan’s end grew louder. Someone called her name. She was at the theater, and had other duties to deal with besides being my bestie.
“I don’t like this,” she said.
“Well, I love it. Iwillwin. You’re busy. You should get back to work.”
“There’s no winning and losing, Lay. And if there was, I’d say going to the police would assure Maxim loses.”
Maybe she was right about the last bit, and I’d still consider it, but for now I had something else in mind.
“Promise me you’ll be safe,” Morgan said.
“I’ll be just fine,” I said. “I promise.”
She seemed somewhat mollified as we said our goodbyes and we both got back to work.
I picked up my supplies at the local hardware store using my credit card, confident they were worth every borrowed penny. Then I returned to my apartment. There was a gift bag outside my door. Chances were good that it was something weird and inappropriate from a game show fan. I peeked inside and found a lock of hair. That immediately went in the trash.
Then I installed my new home security system—several types of locks including chains and hooks and a bolt thingy to the front door, thumbtacks on the floor, and one of those old school bars that were supposed to stop people from stealing cars on the window.
For personal protection, I had a brand-new canister of bear spray tucked away in my messenger bag. The best defense was a solid, eye-searing offense.
Content that my maximum level security would thwart any further invasions from Maxim freaking Loughty, I got to work on stage two of my plan to right my life—acquire writing inspiration.
If Running Man could hunt me down via internet search, maybe I could do the same to him. I stared at my screen and debated what to search.
Runner in Epiphany, NC.
I found a bunch of marathon images, and some ads for booty shorts, but no pictures of the dude I was searching for. Next, I tried variations of the same search includingrunning manandbee man.
Bee manproduced some pretty bizarre results. There was a middle-aged guy in a furry black and yellow costume, including headband antennae and a frilly tutu. He winked at the camera with his butt straight up in the air, in a downward facing dog pose. Scrawled across the wall behind him were the wordsBee Yourself Yoga.Another dude wore a beard of bees, and nothing else. And then, I found a picture of myWhat the What?buddy Chester wearing head-to-toe body paint and yellow underpants, while flashing a furious expression and holding a sign that readHoney is Murder.
I would never be able to unsee that, no matter how hard I scrubbed my eyeballs. And also, I was pretty sure that producing honey did not kill bees.
Pretending I hadn’t been scarred for life, I moved on. I triedmost frustrating man in Epiphanynext,and I was starting to think I didn’t know enough—basically anything—about Running Man to succeed.
Then, thumbs hovering over my phone screen, I debated trying something different, a long shot for sure.
Sexiest man in Epiphany.
Aesthetically, objectively, Running Man was physically attractive. Butsexiest man?It felt ridiculous to type the words given the dude’s personality eclipsed any positive qualities.
Amongst a page of scorching hotties, my eyeballs magnetically snapped to a photo of a man in a swanky suit.Him.
Apparently Running Man owned more than the one outfit I’d seen him wear. As frustrating as it was, he rocked formal wear as well as he rocked spandex.
It was impossible not to appreciate his bone structure. It was impossible not to appreciate that lush head of chestnut-brown hair and the delicious way his suit formed over his athletic physique. He was stunning, even with his expression completely blank.
