Dead Running Read Online Free PDF

of this have to do with running a marathon?”
    “Running the race this morning just inspired me and I know I can do this new business and run a marathon.”
    Tasha rolled her eyes. “You’ve never run over three miles in your life, especially since your high school debacle.”
    “Yes, I have.”
    “When?”
    “I ran 3.1 this morning.” I stuck out my tongue. “So ha.”
    “3.1? That is impressive.” She pushed her plate away and threw her napkin on top of it. “I smell a man in all of this. A sweaty man.”
    A smile crept across my face before I could lasso it.
    “Oh-ho. I’m right.” Tasha’s answering smile wiped the mirth right out of my soul. “That’s why you’re doing this. There’s a man involved. Don’t you love the smell of workout sweat? Fresh and salty. Yum.”
    I swirled the orange straw through my ice water, though I hadn’t committed to the marathon for any man, Damon offering to train with me had helped influence the decision. “Well, there was this one sweaty guy at the race this morning.” I pushed away the vision of Dr. Tattoo. I couldn’t think about him. If I focused on Damon I could discount my attraction to Dr. Tattoo. I really wanted to see him again but thinking of him reminded me of what he saved me from and it was all I could do to not start screaming again.
    Tasha moved her chair closer to mine. “I love it. Spill details.”
    I twisted my lips closed.
    “Now,” she commanded.
    I opened up to defend Damon. “It really was a good kind of sweat.”
    Tasha grinned, grabbing my hand. “What did he look like? Tell me now before I wrinkle from the wait.”
    I obeyed, more out of excitement over Damon, than a desire to comply. “He was perfect. Tall, fit, strawberry-blond hair.”
    She laughed, loud. “Did you really just describe a man with strawberry-blond hair? What kind of a man has strawberry-blond hair?” She shook her head. “You always loved the redheads.”
    “It wasn’t red. It was dark-blond with reddish highlights.”
    Tasha leaned away as if I had the flu. “Great, now you’ve found some kind of wuss who highlights his hair.”
    “Natural highlights, you punk. He’s leap-years from wussy.” I smiled. “He said he’d call me so we could train together.”
    Tasha grinned. “It all makes sense now. All that crap about qualifying for Boston.” She glanced around the restaurant, scoping out the men seated at the table next to us. They both gaped at her blonde beautifulness. Big surprise there.
    “I should’ve known better,” Tasha said. “You’re running this marathon for a man.”
    I tossed my head, Tasha claiming I couldn’t run just made me want to prove I could. “Am not. I’m running this marathon to change my life. I’ve finally found my calling, my destiny.” I’d lost her to her cell phone. I threw my hands in the air. “Can you at least look at me?”
    My phone beeped. I glanced down and rolled my eyes. Tasha thought it was funny to annoy me by texting when we were sitting right next to each other. “Nasty men staring at you.” Her head nudged toward the south.
    I snuck a quick peek over my shoulder. I shouldn’t have. The disgusting men looked familiar, but I couldn’t quite place where I’d seen them.
    I wrapped my arms around my abdomen. My fear from this morning was pushing my imagination into hyper-drive. They probably weren’t even interested in me. “Gross,” I whispered to Tasha. “Why do you point out men like that?”
    “You always say I’m shallow and only care about looks.” She dashed me a chemically-whitened grin. “I’m proving you wrong.”
    “You’re a weirdo. What was I saying?”
    Tasha opened and closed her hand several times, imitating a flapping mouth. “You’ve found your destiny.” Her gaze strayed to the good-looking men again.
    I stabbed my fork into a tomato, thrust it into my mouth, and enjoyed the zing of juices. “If you can’t focus on me, at least you listen well,” I muttered