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HARPER
Walking Buffalo’s snowplowed sidewalks in January could be fun or miserable, depending upon your outlook. If you weren’t bundled to the chin like I was, you could freeze your ass straight off. On the other hand however, the four-foot walls of snow looming on either side of me made it easy to imagine I was walking the trenches of the ice-planet Hoth.
And I loved Hoth.
Snap.
Something cracked behind me again. A twig, a stick, maybe a rock. Somebody had stepped on something for sure, though, which brought me to the stark realization that I wasn’t imagining things.
I was definitely being followed.
Shit.
At this hour and temperature, there were very few people around. Most of the bars were almost closed. The driving ban wouldn’t be lifted until tomorrow, but even those who defied it weren’t leaving the warmth of their cars to walk sidewalks by any means.
Except for the asshole behind me, closing the distance since the block we crossed.
Silently I wished for my date again, as funny as it seemed. I’d left that debacle about six blocks back, when the guy wouldn’t take the hint that our evening was over. Then again I should’ve known better than to swipe right on someone who “taught himself to be a black belt.” But I’d been on an epic dry spell, cooped up in my house writing code for months. I was desperate for some fun, some human interaction, and yes, hopefully even some sex.
Instead, my date turned out to be a professional focus group participant and Feng Shui consultant; both of which turned out to be even less interesting than they originally sounded. But right now, with the crunch of footprints against the frozen snow behind me growing ever louder? The karate master part sounded awfully handy.
I picked up the pace, but so did my possible pursuer. Before they got too close, I planted one foot and whirled.
“WHY ARE YOU FOLLOWING ME AND WHAT DO YOU WA—”
A nearby streetlight illuminated the man’s face. Relief flooded over me in a wave.
“Holy fuck!” I breathed, nearly doubling over. I clutched at my chest. “You scared the hell out of me!”
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to.”
My ex-date looked nervous and only slightly apologetic. He had his hands up, and they were empty.
“I… I just—”
“Did I forget something back there?” I asked, patting my coat down for my phone and keys.
“No. No, you didn’t.”
My head tilted curiously. “But our date’s over,” I said firmly. “So why are you following me?”
Very quickly, I sized him up. He was average height, average build, even average looks. But the man that had seemed so cool and confident in his profile pics now looked lost and conflicted, and downright creepy. Awkwardly, he put his hands down.
“I… just wanted to make sure you got home alright.”
My eyes narrowed skeptically. “You sure you weren’t just trying to figure out where I live?”
He didn’t have an immediate answer. His expression however, told me everything I needed to know.
“Look, Lenny—”
“Lawrence.”
“Whatever,” I sighed in frustration. “It’s late. I need to get home. Let’s assume you probably meant well, but as I already told you, I don’t need to be walked to my front door.”
“Yes, but—”
