Page 17 of In the Long Run

GEN

Turns out a lot can happen in a few days.

‘I knew that video was a good idea!’ Celeste says on Sunday morning as she claps her hands together happily.

‘Good might be an understatement,’ Knox mutters from where he’s attempting to hide behind me. He’s standing close enough that we look like more than running buddies, but with just enough space between us to keep everything polite – because none of this is real, I remind myself.

My commonsense says I should appreciate the reminder, but it grates like the early morning chill.

‘We better get started if we’re going to meet the half-marathoners in forty minutes,’ Knox says, his minty breath hitting the back of my neck, making all my nerves tingle.

I don’t attempt to lead the welcome brief or the warm-up.

I might be able to disassociate myself from being in the spotlight on social media, but in real life, a clammy sweat coats my skin at the mere thought of saying something to all these people.

Besides, the view of Knox in front of the group, his arms crossed, shoulders square, voice even and authoritative?

Let’s just say, it doesn’t suck, and now I can look as much as I want without hesitation.

The crowd – which is 80% female – listens with rapt attention.

Anneke and Annaliese are in the middle, looking strong and ready to run, flesh and blood juxtapositions to me.

I was so nervous before we left that I put my leggings on inside out twice.

Thank God for side pockets, because otherwise I’d have had no idea.

‘Does anyone have any questions?’ Knox asks and I realise I’ve zoned out.

‘Do you have a brother?’ asks a petite brunette with a pixie cut whose sports bra and shorts combo suggests she’s decided to live a temperature-neutral lifestyle.

Knox frowns. ‘No.’

‘Some of us are actually here to run,’ says a man with every type of running accessory strapped to his body. I’ll have to ask him later if he rates his hydration pack, because I need to replace mine for Brigitte’s Run.

‘Does it matter if we’re slow?’ This question comes from a tall, larger woman with both of her knees strapped.

‘There’s no such thing as slow.’ Knox freezes when her face falls. ‘Wait. No. That’s not what I meant. Sorry.’ He sends me a helpless look.

I can do this. The bonus is that this is something I feel very strongly about.

‘Your pace is your pace,’ I say, stepping up next to him. ‘We’re not here to race each other. There aren’t any medals or prizes. Focus on what you need to do for your training, and don’t worry about what other people are doing.’

The woman bites her lip and nods.

‘Exactly that.’ The corner of Knox’s mouth quirks up, leading the way for one of his shy smiles to grace his gorgeous face.

It only lasts a few seconds, like maybe he’s still not used to doing that.

Like his facial muscles still need time to adapt to the new motion.

One of the ladies in the front wilts at the sight.

Luckily my runners have extra stability built into the soles so I stay standing but, honestly, it’s an effort.

‘The half marathon group is starting in forty minutes, so we’ll run for twenty minutes and then turn around to come back and collect them before heading out in the opposite direction.

Everyone good?’ He waits for a beat or two and no one says anything.

He takes a deep breath, his chest rising and falling, before turning to face me.

‘Lead the way, Coffeebean,’ he says with a wink.

It’s clear immediately that our plan has holes in it.

Not the running bit. The kilometres tick by with an ease I wasn’t anticipating.

That’ll change as our distance increases, but right now I have bigger worries.

Like exactly how much attention is on us.

That’s what’s leaving me short of breath, my mind a mess.

Logically, I knew three million people had seen the video. And it’s not exactly breaking news to me that Knox is a prime piece of man candy. I’ve seen his ass in his running shorts. It’s kryptonite for women – and plenty of men too, I’d imagine.

Besides, I’m used to faking things. I’ve smiled when I didn’t want to. I’ve eaten meals I didn’t like to avoid making a fuss. I’ve faked orgasms when it was clear my partner didn’t care about or want to listen to what I needed. I’ve made myself small. Become as inoffensive as I can be.

But now I’ve invited a spotlight into my life without considering what it will really entail.

Our hastily cobbled together plan of ‘let’s just be in the same spot at the same time and if people think we’re doing the no-pants dance on the regular then that’s on them’ isn’t going to cut it, especially considering we’re about to go live.

TikTok live, that is. Anneke has been running with us for the last half hour, sharing all her social media insight as we cruise along the Esplanade under the shade of the Norfolk pines.

She offered, and it seems like too good an opportunity to pass up.

‘Ready?’ Anneke asks, holding up her phone. I don’t know how she can run with her face perfectly framed in the shot.

‘We’re only going to talk about the run club, right?’ I confirm.

Anneke’s been peppering us with questions, wanting to know all about the charity component and what makes our run club different to all the others.

‘Uh-huh.’ A light appears on the top of her phone signalling the feed is live, and Anneke launches into a series of questions about what inspired Croissants and Kilometres, where the name came from, how we chose our charities and how long we’ve been running.

Knox does most of the talking, his tone even and steady, matching the cadence of his feet as he explains how there’s something special about having a group of people encouraging each other as they chase down personal goals.

I bite my lip when he says that he hopes the run club can grow and make more people consider taking up running as a sport.

When he lowers his lashes, avoiding the camera as he explains that running used to be an excuse to get away from things but now he sees how it can connect him to other people, it hits me right in the chest.

‘That’s our hope,’ I interject, a burst of confidence coming from somewhere. Must be dehydration. ‘That Croissants and Kilometres becomes something people look forward to every Sunday.’

‘I already do,’ Knox says, all serious, and honestly, he’s got nothing to worry about.

People are going to gobble him up. They’ll definitely enjoy the way he grimaces and stammers out an embarrassed answer when Anneke asks him to explain what a ‘stern croissant daddy’ is.

I bury my laugh in my fist and do my best not to fall over on camera.

When she’s getting ready to wrap everything up, a sly grin stretches her mouth and her icy blue eyes sharpen. ‘And how long have you two been together?’ she asks.

Knox and I share a look and he nods, because we’ve discussed this. We’re going to be coy and vague and non-committal. Then it’s not really a lie.

‘We’re friends,’ we say in unison.

‘Come on now.’ Anneke laughs, her breathing not at all impacted by the fact that she’s running at ten kilometres an hour and conducting a video interview. ‘You don’t really expect us to believe that.’

‘Good friends,’ I say, doubling down on my answer.

‘Well, then, how long have you been friends for?’ Anneke asks.

‘Not long,’ I say at the same time Knox replies with, ‘For a while now.’

My eyes flare but Knox doesn’t even blink. ‘Might just feel longer to me because I liked Gen immediately and felt comfortable with her.’

Jesus. He’s way too good at this. He’s running circles around me already. Not literally; he’s been by my side since we set off from Alizée’s car park, rebuffing all the questions about his romantic status.

Anneke swoons a little, her TikTok-famous grin firmly in place. ‘Oh my God. You’re so sweet. Like seriously. I can’t take it.’

I know it’s fake and I’m not sure I can take it.

Knox shrugs, his steps steady, as they have been for the whole run. ‘It’s true.’

And he thought Yeti would be better at this.

‘He’s one of the good ones, huh?’ Anneke says to me, and I blush. Not that anyone will be able to tell, because I currently look like the answer to Australia’s ongoing drought issues, but my cheeks heat and my throat tightens.

I wish.

‘He is,’ I say, as we round the final bend and Alizée’s comes back into view.

The grass around it is covered in runners, walkers, people with prams and kids on scooters.

One of the doors to the patisserie is propped open and a line of people snakes all the way around to the fenced-off area at the back of the building.

‘Well, if you want to find your own “stern croissant daddy”—’

‘Please don’t make this a thing.’ Knox sighs resignedly like he knows he’s fighting a losing battle.

‘—then come along to Croissants and Kilometres next Sunday. I know I’ll be here, working on my marathon prep and looking for someone to cross train with!’ Anneke signs off with an exaggerated wink and a hair toss.

‘You guys did great!’ she says, once her phone is back in her running belt and we’ve slowed to a walk. ‘Totally natural on camera, and so damn cute.’

I mumble my thanks, the adrenaline from surviving the TikTok live mixing with the post-run high that gets me out of bed each morning.

‘We really appreciate it,’ Knox says. And for the first time in a very long time, I truly appreciate being a part of a ‘we’. When Brand said it, I had to hold in full body shudders. Tim never said it, and that was the biggest red flag that I missed.

Anneke spots Annaliese and promises to come back next week, peeling off to meet up with a group who are starting to stretch.

Their cheeks are bright and their laughter carries on the light wind, mixing with the shouts and jokes I can hear from the other groups clustered across the park around Alizée’s. The place is packed.

‘I owe Celeste an apology,’ Knox says as we approach the patisserie.

‘Maybe a raise too.’

‘Is there money for that?’ he asks, seamlessly showcasing once again that maybe he really is a great guy.

‘Not yet.’

Knox rolls his lips inside his mouth before speaking again. ‘Was that okay?’

‘The run? Yeah, it felt good—’

‘No,’ he murmurs. ‘I meant the interview. What I said. It wasn’t too much? Did it sound believable?’

‘Oh.’ I fuss with my hair, swiping the sweaty strands away from my forehead, hiding from his eyes as my newfound confidence evaporates. For a second, I’d forgotten what we were really doing. ‘Of course. It was great. This is the plan, right?’

He nods uncertainly.

‘Looks like if we can keep it up, this could really work.’

‘Keeping it up is good,’ he says, nodding.

‘I’m sure that’s never been a problem for you.’ The words spill out before I can stop them, my mouth taking the reins like it always does when I’m flustered.

Knox’s mouth quirks as my insides liquify from mortification. What is wrong with me?

‘As soon as I said it, I knew what was coming,’ Knox jokes, but his smile only lasts for a second.

‘I’m not normally like this,’ I insist, which is ridiculous because I’m constantly like this around him.

‘Sure.’ He lifts his arm like he’s about to put it around my shoulders before dropping it back to his side.

God, we’re more awkward than twelve-year-olds at a school dance.

‘Should we talk about how all of this is going to go?’ he asks.

‘You know, set some ground rules? Where the line is, et cetera? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. ’

Boundaries are definitely a good idea or I’ll end up back in the place I promised myself I’d never return to. The one where I look like a fool because I listened to my heart instead of my head.

And falling for the guy who’s only here temporarily?

That’s got foolish written all over it.