Page 14 of In the Long Run

GEN

‘I thought you said it was only a small group,’ I say to Bernie and Meredith as we watch the crowd clustered in the car park of Pelican Reserve.

I’m still holding the coffee Knox got for me before he ran away.

It’s empty but it’s helping me keep my hands from trembling, because there are at least fifty people in front of us.

All Mere’s hard work on promo has clearly paid off.

‘It was last week,’ Bernie says.

‘Helps that the Annas posted about it, even though they couldn’t make it today,’ Mere says.

Four big vans – the kind that hold twelve people each – pull into the car park and more men and women spill out. Some wear matching khaki shirts with crests over their hearts. Others are in normal workout gear. They trail behind Yeti like overgrown ducklings following their mother.

Yeti greets me with a hug and kiss on my cheek. In my peripheral vision, Knox crosses his arms. I thanked him for the coffee when I arrived, but there was a weird vibe to our interaction.

‘I brought reinforcements,’ Yeti says. ‘These guys are here on course so they can’t come every week, but the more the merrier, right?’

‘Absolutely,’ Bernie says before introducing himself.

‘Is this the hot soldier?’ Meredith mutters in my ear. People have got to stop saying that out loud. Also, she clearly wasn’t quiet enough, because Yeti throws his head back and unleashes a booming laugh that makes the leaves of the gum we’re standing under shake.

‘I’m one of them.’ He winks at Meredith.

‘Are there multiples?’ Bernie asks. He angles his body towards Mere and laughs when she pushes him away.

‘I didn’t know you had a thing for men in uniform, Bern,’ Mere teases.

He shakes his head, the smile he always wears when she’s around widening. ‘I meant targeting big groups like local Army units or other organisations could be another way to increase our numbers.’

‘Celeste has that covered,’ I say, using my coffee cup to point to her.

She’s dragged Knox away from the group and is making him film her as she waves her arms around and does an adorable little shimmy.

‘She said your Run Club needs a TikTok account and volunteered to “capture content”.’ I use finger quotes.

‘Knox!’ Celeste cries, and we all crane our necks to see what’s going on. ‘Pay attention. You’re pointing that at my boobs.’

Knox snaps his gaze forward, a pink tinge climbing his neck and settling on his cheeks.

I can’t help feeling like he was watching me.

But the itchy feeling on the back of my neck remains, and I covertly scan the area.

On the edge of the car park, Brand’s Tesla is parked next to a no standing sign.

He leans against his car and is dressed for work in one of his signature turtlenecks and blazers.

He doesn’t move towards me. He just watches for a few seconds before getting back into his car and peeling away from the kerb.

‘Let’s get started.’ Bernie claps his hands and waves everyone in closer. ‘Welcome to Get Fit, Get Strom’s second official run club training session for Brigitte’s Run!’

There’s some polite applause and a loud ‘whoop’ from the back.

‘We’re going to do the warm-up together and then we’ll break up into the different distances.

I’m doing the half, so I’ll lead that group.

’ He points to the two trainers behind him and they step forward as he introduces them.

‘And Gen has volunteered to take the group who are training for the full.’

Volunteered is a stretch.

‘You’re the best, seriously,’ Meredith says quietly. ‘You don’t really have to do anything. Just let us know if anyone falls over.’ She squeezes my hand and moves away, closer to Bernie, who’s still addressing the group.

‘Each group will do a set amount of time that will increase each week as per their training schedules. You can run or walk, jump between groups, pick what works for you. There’s no pressure from us.

The idea is to get active and build a fitness community.

We’re going to set up some Strava segments so you can track your progress over certain distances.

Feel free to create your own segments if you’d prefer.

And at the start of each session, we’ll collect a gold coin—’

‘Or more!’ Meredith calls out, rattling a bucket in front of her as she leans against Bernie, who looks down at her adoringly.

‘—that we’ll donate to a different charity. If there’s one that’s close to your heart, let us know and we’ll add it to the list. Today’s is the Nate James Foundation, which focuses on providing sporting equipment to marginalised communities. Now, is everyone ready?’

Heads bob up and down as an excited chatter builds.

‘Then let’s get started …’

Any benefit my muscles received from the warm-up evaporates when I find myself in front of the marathon training group, white-knuckling the clipboard Mere gave me.

Public speaking has never been my thing.

I cough and lift a hand to shield my eyes.

The sun is still climbing into the sky so it’s a pointless move, but I don’t know what else to do.

I mean, speaking would be helpful.

‘Um, hi. I’m Gen.’ My voice wobbles and I swallow.

Some of the people in front of me are serious runners.

You know the type. They’ve got all the gear and the long lean muscles that come from spending hours running each week.

I’m not like them. And I’m supposed to be leading this group? This was a mistake.

I blink a few times, sending a panicked gaze around the group. The people who came with Yeti are wearing team shirts, for God’s sake. They’re already a run club.

I cough again but it doesn’t help, because I don’t need to clear my throat. There’s nothing in my throat.

This is too much. I’m not ready for something like this. I should’ve known better.

‘And I’m Knox,’ he says, stepping out from the crowd to stand next to me. ‘Bernie covered everything before, but does anyone have any questions?’

I poke him in the side and pass him the clipboard, pointing at the other information that Mere’s highlighted.

‘Right,’ Knox says. ‘From next week, our group will start first because we’re the longest distance.

The others will have staggered timings. Today, every group’s doing a forty-minute run or walk.

Follow the path that way’—he points towards the little bridge that crosses the creek—‘for twenty minutes. Then turn around and run or walk back. Remember to go at your own pace, because running looks different for everyone. All that matters is you put one foot in front of the other. We’ll do some cool-down stretches at the end together. ’

‘Thank you,’ I murmur. ‘I’m not great in group situations.’

‘You’re welcome.’ He smiles. ‘I’m used to telling people what to do. Come on, we better get up the front.’

We set off at an easy pace. The thrum of running shoes hitting the path provides a baseline to the buzz of the conversations starting around us.

‘Is that why you joined the Army?’ I ask.

His smile disappears, his lips flattening into a line.

‘Sorry. We don’t have to talk. You should run with Yeti and your other friends. I’m fine on my own.’

‘Those aren’t my friends. I don’t have a lot of friends,’ he says.

‘Neither do I.’ I keep my gaze on the track in front of me, because even though it’s concrete, I’m absolutely still in danger of tripping over my own feet.

‘I thought you’d have loads,’ Knox says.

‘Why?’

‘You walked up to two strangers at a pub and asked one to pretend he was dating you. That’s ballsy.’

The key I stuck in the waistband of my running tights rubs against my side. I fish it out and slide it into the side pocket. ‘I don’t normally do things like that.’

‘I’m glad you did.’ His eyes widen like he’s just realised what he said, and while I’m worrying about tripping over my own feet, Knox stumbles over his words. ‘I wanted to apologise for this morning. Showing up unannounced and all. And then taking off. I have a tendency to make things weird.’

Welcome to the club, my friend. It’s right now that I realise how much I’d like us to be friends. And, really, him not being interested in me romantically makes things much easier. ‘So do I.’

We share a small smile.

‘I’m sorry if you were surprised by Lawson. He’s Caleb’s boyfriend – well, sort of.’

Knox dips his head. ‘I wasn’t surprised.’

‘So you ran away because …’

When he looks up, embarrassment colours his strong features. Oh boy, shy Knox could absolutely test my decision for us to just be friends, if I was open to that sort of thing anymore. Which I’m not.

‘I might’ve made some assumptions.’ His smile turns sheepish.

‘Well, they were wrong.’

‘Either way, good for you. That would’ve been one way to send a message to Brand, huh.

“Dating” multiple guys.’ God, he even does the inverted commas with his fingers and then stares at his hands like he doesn’t understand how that happened, which is bad news for me.

Because his awkwardness sets off my awkwardness, which always manifests in the worst form: verbal diarrhoea.

‘I’m not a dating multiple guys kind of girl.

My sister gave me a “why choose” romance to read once, and it was super hot, but I’ll be honest, I got distracted sometimes thinking about how many dicks there were to keep track of.

And hands. So many hands. I mean, each to their own, and I vote for anything that supports female empowerment and everything, but a girl’s liable to get lockjaw or something. ’

Knox’s eyes are comically wide.

So, this is an out of body experience, I think as my heart races and light-headedness sets in. A foreign being has taken control of my faculties and even though my brain is sending ‘stop talking’ commands, I can’t shut my mouth.

‘And Lawson’s not the kind of guy I’d go for. Neither’s Brand. That whole thing was an attempt at trying something new, and we both know how that turned out. I’m usually more attracted to …’ My voice peters out to a whisper. ‘… sporty guys,’ I say to the sporty guy who is running right next to me.

Welp. Whatever weirdness from this morning that had dissipated returns with full force.

‘You know what,’ I barrel on, because clearly this metaphorical train is headed towards the edge of an erupting volcano, ‘I hear someone calling my name. You go ahead.’

I drop back under the guise of checking on everyone else, and a pretty redhead immediately fills my spot, matching her cadence to Knox’s long steps.

‘What the fuck was that?’ I whisper to myself.

I lean into my hamstring stretch and lift my arms over my head, twisting to the side to release some of the tension in my shoulders.

‘Do you know where we could get a coffee? Or something to eat?’ a woman in an Army running shirt asks me.

‘I could murder a feed,’ a guy in khaki says.

‘Wish there was a coffee cart,’ the pretty redhead who keeps shooting furtive glances at Knox pipes up.

Knox turns to me, his mouth opening and then closing.

Because he’s a gentleman, I’m sure he’s not about to bring up the fact that I gave what can be best described as a spoken word presentation about my thoughts on fictional group sex to his face twenty-five minutes ago.

It’s no big deal. I’ll just be blushing for the next five to ten years.

‘Are you thinking what I’m thinking?’ he asks.

Please, God, no. Now that I’ve had more time to think about it, I might’ve come across as too vanilla, because I could be adventurous with the right person. Not group sex adventurous but other stuff … Although any chance he’d ever think about me like that has surely evaporated.

‘Should Alizée’s get a coffee cart? Then we could come to things like run clubs and try to generate extra business?’

‘Or’—I swap sides, both loving and hating the stretch it brings to my tired body—‘to save on investing in something new, the Run Club could meet in Alizée’s car park each week, and then afterwards members could just go in.

A lot of people would buy a coffee and something to eat, like ham and cheese croissants, or something sweet.

This could bring in extra cash/income and doesn’t involve any extra outlay. ’

‘And Alizée’s could make a donation, some percentage of any profit from that day, to the charity of the week, too.’ Knox’s eyes light up. ‘It’s win-win. Do you think your sister would go for it?’

I look over to where Meredith and Bernie stand, holding flyers with a QR code on them and reminding everyone to sign up for the run club newsletter.

They want to build a community.

Knox wants to save Alizée’s.

This could be something.

And it would give me and Knox even more reason to keep spending time together . I push that thought away.

‘We could call the club Croissants and Kilometres. Make up loyalty cards and offer something free with every tenth purchase or whatever,’ I say, and a huge grin breaks across Knox’s face. It’s brighter than the sunrise and as flutters erupt in my stomach, I know it’s going to be just as addictive.

He jumps to his feet and pulls me up to mine. Big, strong arms encircle my body as he drags me in close, his chin resting against my forehead.

He should smell bad, right? He’s worked hard. But he doesn’t. A masculine, fresh scent clings to his skin, and his heart thumps steadily underneath my cheek. He sighs, relaxing into the hug, his hands grazing the small of my back.

‘This could be the change we need to really turn things around. Thank you, Gen,’ he says.

‘You’re welcome.’ My words are muffled against his chest, but I don’t make a move to pull away.

A car door slams behind us and Knox’s hands slip from my back to my waist before his grip tightens. ‘We have an audience,’ he mutters.

‘Was that …’ I ask, already knowing the answer.

‘Brand? Yeah.’

Awesome.

‘Smile!’ Celeste says as she holds up her phone and slowly pans it around us.

‘What are you doing?’ Knox asks, twisting his body to shield my face.

‘Doing you a favour. You can thank me later.’