Running to You: Picture This, #4

By Megan Slayer

Can an accident really lead to love?

 

Dayton Sharpe wasn't looking for a relationship when he went out for a run, but when he's forced off the road, he finds the person missing from his life—Nicholas. Will he realize the man of his dreams isn't out of his reach but right beside him?

 

Nicholas Malone likes his privacy and his seclusion. He writes for the local paper, online magazines, and novels. He has everything he needs—his cat and his writing. But he's lonely. When Dayton, the hunky jock next door, ends up at his doorstep, he has to decide if he wants to be alone for the rest of his life or if it's time to break his norms to find love.

 

This book has been re-edited for this reissue edition.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Megan Slayer
• Release date: Apr 28, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201134525

Megan Slayer

Megan Slayer, aka Wendi Zwaduk, is a multi-published, award-winning author of more than one-hundred short stories and novels. She’s been writing since 2008 and published since 2009. Her stories range from the contemporary and paranormal to LGBTQ and BDSM themes. No matter what the length, her works are always hot, but with a lot of heart. She enjoys giving her characters a second chance at love, no matter what the form. She’s been the runner up in the Kink Category at Love Romances Café as well as nominated at the LRC for best author, best contemporary, best ménage and best anthology. Her books have made it to the bestseller lists on Amazon.com. When she’s not writing, Megan spends time with her husband and son as well as three dogs and three cats. She enjoys art, music and racing, but football is her sport of choice.

Book preview

Running to You

Picture This, book 4

By

Megan Slayer

Running to You by Megan Slayer

Copyright © 2022, Megan Slayer

Edited by Kris Jacen

Cover Art by WZDesigns

Published by Megan Slayer Publishing

Warning: All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

Electronic Release: APRIL 2022

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and occurrences are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places or occurrences, is purely coincidental.

NOTE: This book has been reedited for this reissued version.

TRADEMARKS:

VW Rabbit - Volkswagen of America, Inc.

Superman - DC Entertainment

Uber - Uber Technologies Inc.

Queer as Folk - Warner Bros. Television Distribution

CBS Television Distribution

Can an accident really lead to love?

Dayton Sharpe wasn’t looking for a relationship when he went out for a run, but when he’s forced off the road, he finds the person missing from his life—Nicholas. Will he realize the man of his dreams isn’t out of his reach but right beside him?

Nicholas Malone likes his privacy and his seclusion. He writes for the local paper, online magazines, and novels. He has everything he needs—his cat and his writing. But he’s lonely. When Dayton, the hunky jock next door, ends up at his doorstep, he has to decide if he wants to be alone for the rest of his life or if it’s time to break his norms to find love.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Epilogue

About Megan Slayer

More from Megan Slayer

For the Lucky Ducks

For JPZ

Chapter One

M en... Dayton sat on the front stoop of his apartment building and tied his running shoes. He’d exercise himself ragged if he wasn’t careful. Did he care? No. He had to get his ex-boyfriend out of his head. The man hadn’t been good for him. He’d cheated on Dayton. But for some reason known only to God, he still loved his ex, Lesley. Well, he thought he did. Love meant reciprocal feelings, trust, care, and a bunch of other shit. Right? He’d given the good and Lesley the bad.

Dayton sighed. If he didn’t stop thinking about Lesley, he’d invite the good-for-nothing jerk back into his bed. He spotted Aydin and Brandon by the car the pair owned. He shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but he couldn’t help himself. Ever since he’d met Aydin, he liked him. According to Lesley, Aydin had been the reason they’d split. Lesley swore Dayton had cheated with Aydin. Sure, Dayton might have slept with Aydin, but he wasn’t given the chance. Aydin wasn’t available, but Lesley’s jealousy had spurred Dayton to move on.

What was worse, he was friends with both Aydin and Brandon. He’d shared an English course with Aydin and a math class with Brandon. They were nice guys. Why hate a decent guy?

Because he wanted to be the one with Aydin.

Part of Dayton wished Brandon would disappear. He didn’t dislike him, but what if he could love Aydin better than Brandon? The rest of him knew Brandon and Aydin were perfect for each other. He couldn’t break that kind of love up. He’d rather have a love like they shared instead.

But with who? There weren’t guys lining up to date him.

Carlson came to mind, but he liked to club too much. Then there was Devin. Not bad, but a little hairy for his taste. Michelson? Nah, he wasn’t big on lots of tattoos or tatted knuckles. He glanced over at the next apartment. Nicholas. Now there was a handsome guy. Quiet, shy, seemingly unassuming...but was he gay? Dayton wasn’t sure.

He tucked his earbuds into his ears, then switched his music on. He ran through his battery of prerun stretches. His muscles would ache when he finished, but he’d feel better. Running always cleared his mind and awakened his senses. The ten-miler would be tough, but no more than any other day.

He continued to stretch until Aydin and Brandon were gone. He should be strung up for ogling Aydin’s ass, but oh well. He glanced to his right in search of the creaking sound. Nicholas strolled out of his apartment.

Hi. Nicholas waved. How’s the run today?

I haven’t left yet. He stood and turned his music off. Just stretching. What’s up with you this morning?

I’m writing. Nicholas leaned his shoulder against the privacy fence. The slats provided some privacy, but not much. Actually, no, I’m stuck. He laughed. The ideas and characters are there, but nothing is gelling. Maybe if I go for a run, I can clear my head. He shook his head. It’s already hot, and I’m not in the mood to go for another run. I don’t like to do extra miles in the summer—at least not when it’s steamy out.

He didn’t know Nicholas well—like that he was a runner—but he did know the man was a writer. What he wrote, well, that was a good question. He wasn’t even positive Nicholas was a college student. I hate when the muse goes into hiding.

Yeah, Nicholas said. It’ll come back.

Sure. He swept his gaze over Nicholas. Not bad. Tall, thin, pale, despite being naturally tan. Curly black hair and piercing brown eyes. Could he be good boyfriend material? No idea, but what would it hurt to ask him on a date? He’d have to find out if he was single and gay, but minor details. I should head out. See you. Hope that muse comes back.

Have a good workout, and I’ll let you know. Nicholas waved again.

I will. He did a warm-up lap around the apartment complex parking lot, then headed out to the path alongside the road. He focused on his stride and pacing. The songs swirled in his ears, and he powered forward. Something roared behind him. He glanced back, then pressed on. Mechanized vehicles weren’t permitted on the path. He looked over his shoulder again. A truck thundered toward him.

What the hell? Dayton inched to the edge of the path. It’s not a road, he shouted. He waved. Go onto the road. As he waved, he lost balance. Dayton wobbled before stumbling on the uneven edge. He tried to catch himself, but after two more steps, he landed in the gravel. A scream ripped from his throat. His knee popped. God damn it. Fear gripped him. The rocks bit into his skin, and he scrambled to sit up. Where was he? He spotted the apartment complex.

Are you kidding? He cried out again, then grasped his knee. I’m five hundred fucking yards from the damn apartment. He dusted his legs off and attempted to stand. The pain in his knee increased. He landed in the gravel a second time. His scream burned in his chest.

Someone hated him—fate, karma...God. Someone. He punched the gravel, then blew out a ragged breath. He should call the police, but what would he say? A truck tried to hit me. What color? Hell if I know. What make? No clue. Yeah, the cops wouldn’t be able to do much. He needed a second to regroup and figure out what to do next. Blood darkened his knees and wrist. The seam of his running shorts was torn. Dirt and gravel marred his clothing and skin. Shit.

Are you okay? Nicholas knelt beside him. He held his phone. Do you need me to call 911?

Help me out of the ditch. He held out his hands. I fucked up my knee.

Nicholas slid his arms around Dayton. How fucked up is fucked up? Like broken? Torn? Sprained?

I twisted my knee and I’m scratched up, but I’ll live. With Nicholas holding him up, he limped out of the ditch. Damn. He ached all over.

I’ll take you to quick care. Even if it’s just a heavy sprain, they can assess your knee best without the doctor visit. Nicholas urged Dayton back to the parking lot. Do you have an insurance card?

Yeah, in my wallet. He groaned. And that’s in my apartment on the table. He was in no position to argue. He allowed Nicholas to put him into the front seat.