Page 2 of Catching Flynn

Remain upright.

Remain conscious.

Never recover.

Spinning to face his next crisis, he finally faced Zack. “Hi. Welcome to…this is not a good first impression.” His hand fluttered like it was trying to escape the disastrous moment. “So. That’s…a customer. We have those. They come in. Sometimes they leave. Sometimes they suck out your soul. Mine floated past you a few minutes ago.”

I need to lie down on the floor and become a part of the linoleum.

“If you’re looking for books, we do have those.” Flynn crossed, then uncrossed his arms, unsure where to put them. “Regular ones. Very non-gratifying. I mean books can be, just not the naughty ones. Not that I’m against those kind and oh god, I can’t shut up.”

Zack’s smirk widened. Flynn’s brain derailed.

“If we carried something naughty, like “Honeymooning with Your Hand” there would be a line out the door. Do you know how many horny men live in this town?” Flynn had no idea but was willing to conduct a survey. Seriously, Crimson Hollow had so many, you’d think there was a gorgeous factory tucked somewhere in the mountains. They were equipped with shiny motorcycles, pearly-white teeth, and the uncanny ability to see right through Flynn as they passed him on the street.

“How many and can you introduce me to one?” The middle-aged tween leaned in.

Jesus. “I’m not a thirst dealer,” Flynn said. “I’m a paperback pimp. We slut in a different way.”

Zack’s lips parted, eyebrows hiked.

Shut down shop. Burn the building. Live off the grid.

“You’re Zack. Of course you are. Look, if you’ve changed your mind about meeting me, completely understand. I can be a bit much.”

“You’re fine.” Zack was being chill, even smiling, like he was entertained by the scene.

“I said paperback pimp out loud,” Flynn said. “I deserve whatever happens next.”

Flynn wanted to start his day over, possibly by staying in bed and faking some obscure disease. This was not going how he thought it would. How he’d hoped it would.

“Seriously, it’s cool,” Zack said.

“I said Honeymooning with Your Hand out loud. I’d meant to say hamster. No! Handyman.” Flynn gave up trying to buffer his words. He’d already ruined whatever chance he had with Zack, regardless of what the guy said. “I’ll own the thirst pimp. Which I’m not, but I do slut in a different way. Hi, I’m Flynn. Secret one-night stand child. Sorry your dad is dead.”

Complete silence. Not awkward. Not tense. Complete system failure. Flynn’s brain had flatlined, spiritually deceased.

The shocked look on Zack’s face morphed into a grin. “We’re gonna be best friends.”

“Fabulous. Maybe we can exchange childhood stories where you tell me what my cheating dad was like since I never met him. Oh! By the way, I have a stalker. Is that gonna be an issue?”

Flynn walked toward the counter, so done with his morning already. He’d screwed this up every way a person could. No use pretending Zack would actually want to be friends.

“Did you say stalker?” Zack stared incredulously at Flynn.

“Yeah. S. T. A. L. K. E. R.” Like a deranged elementary school teacher hosting an anxiety seminar. “The leaves-love-notes-with-pasted-block-letter kind. Not the wanna-put-you-in-a-cage kind. I think. We haven’t officially met yet, so a cage might be in my future.”

The woman gasped. “A real-life stalker?”

Honestly, Flynn had forgotten about her. “No, an imaginary one. Why are you still here?”

“This is more interesting than grocery shopping.” Her fingers were strangling her purse straps. “Tell us about your stalker.”

He wasn’t going to discuss his possible demise with someone he didn’t even know. Flynn needed to get her out of there. He’d embarrassed himself enough for one morning.

“Great! Grab me some wine while you’re there…and cheese.” He tapped his chin, as if in deep thought. “If you wait a sec, I can give you a list.”

She walked out, slamming the door shut behind her.