I slow my run down to a jog for a second because I suddenly feel bad for this guy who is pouring his heart out to me. “I’m so sorry, Leland. That sounds awful. Well, you seem like a good guy. I’m sure things will get better for you. Change ... is ... always ... good,” I offer, breathlessly. I’m not one of those people who can easily talk while running.
“So, what do you—“ Leland is cut off.
“Excuse me, mind if I cut in?” I’m sorry, are we freaking tangoing right now?
“I’m Alex Lopez. We didn’t get a chance to meet yet.”
“I only met a few of you,” I tell him, trying to run faster to get away from him. I don’t know him. He could be a nice guy, but I want some space right now.
Alex doesn’t seem to have any trouble keeping up with my accelerated pace. “Oh, I know. I just wanted to make sure I introduced myself before it’s too late,” he says with a struggling laugh.
“Before what is too late?” I question.
I’m so flustered with the questions and conversation that I must have missed the giant rock buried in the sand because I have now tripped, and I’m on my hands and knees.
My hair flies out of my ponytail, shielding my face on both sides, which is good because I’m afraid to see what’s next to me and behind me, but I gain a sneaking suspicion when at least four hands make contact with my back.
“I’m a doctor,” Alex shouts. “Don’t move.” Alex is a doctor. Noted.
“Dr. McDreamy is on the beach, folks,” I grunt. “Or, is it Dr. McSteamy? Who do you relate to more?”
“I didn’t mean—that. I didn’t know if you were hurt,” Alex follows. “Sorry, it’s just a habit.”
“No, I’m fine.” I jump up to my feet and spin around, finding more than a few men in my trail. “Whoa, what are you all doing?”
“We’re going for a run,” Max, the oral surgeon, speaks up.
“Two feet behind me?” I counter.
“We want to make sure you’re okay. I should fill that hole up right there, huh?” Max replies.
“I’m not okay,” I shout so they can all hear me. “You’re all freaking me out, and I have no clue what it is about me that you’re so interested in, but I’m no one special, so if you don’t mind just leaving me to my business, that would be amazing.”
They all appear stunned by my reaction, but seriously, stalking and following someone isn’t cool, and for there to be more than just a few of them doing this, who wouldn’t be freaked out by a mass of men chasing them?
“We’re so sorry,” another one of the guys says. I don’t think I’ve met him yet either. He has shoulder-length blonde hair and surf shorts hanging from his hips. He’s hot, but no. No. “Are you thirsty?”
I grab the sides of my face with frustration. “No, no, I’m not thirsty. If we were standing in the middle of a desert right now with no water in sight, I still wouldn’t be thirsty. So, please, let me finish my run, in peace.”
They look distraught over my pointed statements. Did they not see this coming?
One by one the men disperse, and I’m surprised they actually listened.
Anger is raging through me as I complete my two miles, and I’m happy to see no one occupying the beach in front of the villas as I return.
Just as I reach the back patio of my villa, I spot one of the men sitting on his ground-level porch with his head flattened against the siding. He’s pale and flopped in a lazy position. I feel like I met him yesterday at some point, but he wasn’t one of the men following me during my run.
“Hey, are you okay?” I ask, craning my neck to get his attention.
He sits up in attention at the sound of my voice. “Oh, crap. I must have fallen asleep. Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine,” I tell him, taking another step closer. Upon another look, I see he’s sweating, and his eyes are a bit bloodshot.
“Gee, thanks,” he says, laughing through a cough.
“You’re sick, huh?” I ask.
“I’ll be fine. It’s just a chest cold.” Sniffle. Sniffle.
