Page 19 of In the Long Run

KNOX

‘I feel like a piece of meat,’ I complain to Celeste two weeks later, even though she won’t care.

‘Just take it off, would you?’ She doesn’t even look up from her phone. I shrug out of my running jacket and wrap it around my waist. I specifically chose the fleecier one to try to avoid something like this happening. It’s also cold as balls out here.

‘It looks like a potato sack. That’s not the vibe we’re going for. Be grateful I’m letting you keep your shirt on. No one needs to see your blue nipples, Knoxy.’

Gen hides the blush I’m already addicted to by rubbing her gloved hands together in front of her face.

She’s been laughing at Celeste and me bickering over the ridiculous things we’re supposed to be doing.

Our last few TikToks haven’t performed as well as the first viral one, so Celeste is keen to get back to a flirtier vibe for our content.

‘He looks good, doesn’t he, Gen?’

Talk about a textbook definition of a leading question. Celeste might be skilled at creating pretty, delicate pastries, but she’s as subtle as a sledgehammer.

Gen’s gaze dips from my face to my chest before sliding lower and heating up my insides. She rolls her bottom lip into her mouth, and I wish I could lean over and tug it free with my thumb. When Celeste sniggers, Gen’s eyes snap back to mine.

‘Yeah,’ she says, voice all scratchy and secretive. My nipples aren’t the only thing in danger of turning blue.

The silence stretches a beat too long and I open my mouth but the words I need don’t come. Why is it so hard to say, ‘Go away, Celeste, I just want to hang out with Gen’?

‘Oh my God, it’s so cold,’ Gen blurts.

She’s right. The sun’s up but it’s doing fuck-all in terms of adding any warmth to the morning. Last night’s frost clings to the grass around us and the wind’s icy fingers claw at my face.

‘All the more reason to get this done.’ Celeste smiles patiently, but there’s tension around her eyes. ‘Our followers love stuff like this. We see a spike in sales after each TikTok.’

The reminder of why we’re doing this makes me snap my mouth shut, swallowing my next complaint.

‘What’s Knox’s line again?’ Gen’s already filmed hers, and so have Violet, Anneke, Yeti and a few of the others who are fast becoming regulars now we’re almost a month into this whole run club thing.

They all got to say things like ‘We’re run clubbers, of course we get coffee and pastries after’ and ‘We’re run clubbers, of course we like getting up early on purpose’ and ‘We’re all run clubbers, even those who prefer to walk and chat instead’.

My line, which Celeste has carefully created for me? She can’t even get through it with a straight face. ‘Please don’t make me say it,’ I say now, groaning.

‘I don’t see what the problem is. You guys need to leave soon, and I’ve got to get back to Alizée’s.’ She’s decided running isn’t her thing.

‘Really? There’s no part of “We’re run clubbers, of course we do our stretches together” that sounds sketchy to you?’

Celeste pastes a bland smile on her face. She’s not fooling anyone, least of all me. ‘Yeti said it’s common for runners to skip their stretches.’

I raise my eyebrows, confident I can get Celeste to crack without saying anything.

Celeste throws her hands in the air, almost knocking over the tripod she’s got her mobile attached to.

‘Fine. There’s only so many times I can show you two mooning at each other.

What’s the harm in a double entendre? People want to know more about you guys, but I know you want to keep things vague.

I’ve got a bunch of ideas I know you’re going to veto, like “Your pace or mine?” or “Do you believe in love at first sight or should I run past again?”’

‘Why do I have to say anything? You’ve got plenty of stuff already.’

Celeste closes her eyes and releases a slow breath that curls through the cold air around us.

‘Because you’re the one who gets the biggest views,’ Gen answers for her.

‘Not anymore,’ Celeste corrects Gen. ‘The comments are still all about how people came for the hot guys and are staying for the love story. People are rooting for you two. This is good, Knox. It’s the kind of notoriety you want.’

Not wanting to talk about the hidden meaning in those words, I lift my hands in surrender. I’ve gotten away with it for this long. Maybe the past actually can stay in the past? I’m sure it helps that I changed my last name as soon as I was eighteen.

‘Fine,’ I grumble but I don’t mean it.

‘Think of Eugene and Alizée’s. We’ve made more money in the last month than we did in the last five months. This is working!’

‘But this is my limit. The whole idea wasn’t to lie to everyone.’

Celeste salutes me. The little shit. ‘Message received. I won’t say another word about it. Promise.’

I’m pushing my dinner around my plate when Celeste claps her hands together and rests her chin on them. I know that look. She’s up to something.

‘What?’ I ask after chewing and swallowing, so I don’t break Eugene’s rule about not speaking with your mouth full. Everyone else at our Wednesday night family dinner pauses and watches.

‘How do you guys feel about PDA?’ she asks me and Gen.

I cough around the imaginary piece of quiche that’s lodged itself in my windpipe. I should’ve known Celeste would pull something like this, especially in front of Gen.

‘Um …’ Gen’s the same colour as the beetroot in the salad.

Eugene grumbled that tonight’s meal was too summery for July in Melbourne, but I knew he wouldn’t be able to resist salvaging the pie dough I was butchering on purpose to gently nudge him back into the kitchen and hopefully towards the guy he used to be.

He’s still resisting helping with anything Alizée’s related, but I suspect that’s because he can’t bear to get his hopes up.

‘I like PDA,’ Yeti interjects, draping a brawny arm across Celeste’s shoulders. She squirms and shakes him off, muttering under her breath, but he just laughs and ruffles her hair.

‘Quit it,’ she snaps, smoothing the pink strands back into place.

‘As I was saying’—she shoots Yeti a glare—‘the hot topic is if you guys are together or not. Maybe if you’re a bit more affectionate with each other on Sundays, other people will start talking more about Croissants and Kilometres.

It’s the best way to get organic growth.

Sales have been way up at Alizée’s and we’re starting to see more regular mid-week coffee trade. A couple of kisses—’

Gen coughs, grabbing her serviette.

‘What happened to not bringing this up again?’ I interrupt, but Celeste rolls her eyes.

‘These guys must be old news by now.’ Yeti points at us with his fork. ‘Maybe we should follow their lead. Say the club’s two from two. Tell everyone we’ve finally given in to the romantic tension between us.’

‘That’s not romantic tension, you big oaf. It’s a total misalignment of personalities.’

Yeti’s grin widens and he jerks his chin towards me, in what I’ve known him long enough to recognise is a wordless gesture asking for back-up. ‘Forty, remind me. What’s that saying about someone who protests too much?’

Celeste stabs at her piece of quiche, leaning as far away from him as she can. ‘Your ego should come with its own postcode. Anyway , my point was that you guys could be a bit more touchy-feely.’

‘I’m great at touchy—’ Yeti starts but Celeste cuts him off with a glare and, from the way he winces, I suspect a swift kick under the table.

‘It’s not going to happen, Yeti. Never. Ever.’

He clutches his chest dramatically. ‘You wound me.’

‘I’ve been thinking about writing a cookbook,’ Eugene says loudly. ‘Full of my favourite recipes.’

‘That’s a great idea,’ I say because it really is, and I’m also glad the topic of conversation has moved on.

‘You could work on it at Alizée’s if you wanted to get out of the house,’ Celeste suggests. Eugene hasn’t been there since his accident.

He smiles sadly at his salad. ‘I’m not ready yet. Maybe once I start hydrotherapy and I can move around a bit more.’

‘We could pop in one day this week,’ I suggest. ‘You could see the new record system I’ve set up. And Gen could show you how well the business is doing. We’ve been working hard.’

His heavy sigh saturates the air in the room. ‘I don’t know, mate. There’s still plenty of time for you to show me all of this before you have to …’

He doesn’t need to finish his sentence. The missing word is written all over everyone’s face.

Before I have to leave in September. I’ve managed to tack a few weeks of extra leave on to what was initially approved so I can stay until after the run, but the deadline for my departure creeps closer every day.

The rest of dinner’s pretty quiet.

‘What are your thoughts on kissing?’ Gen asks as our runners crunch over the dead leaves covering the path to the car park behind Alizée’s.

I blink in surprise. ‘In general?’ Because I’m a fan. Who isn’t?

‘About kissing me,’ she clarifies to the ground, because she’s sure as shit not looking at me.

I’ve spent the last few days avoiding the conversation Celeste tried to start at dinner the other night, because I’d assumed it had made Gen uncomfortable. ‘I’m confused.’

‘About kissing me?’ This time Gen’s eyes meet mine.

They’re full of uncertainty. ‘I was thinking about what Celeste said. How maybe we should be more physical with each other. And Brand’s started blowing up my phone again.

I don’t know … It wouldn’t mean anything.

’ She rushes to add the last sentence, and her words stack on top of each other. Her walking pace picks up too.

But that’s where she’s wrong, and why I haven’t pushed or tried to talk to her about this earlier. Because I know myself. Kissing Gen would mean something to me.

It would mean giving in to the attraction that hangs around like a shadow every time we’re together.

It would mean giving her a part of myself that I haven’t given anyone for a long time.

And, this is the biggest thing, the one that I’m most scared of: kissing Gen could be the thing that changes everything. Makes me lose the control I’ve worked so hard to hold onto. Shit. It might even make me hopeful.

She laughs uneasily, waving at Violet, who’s chatting to Anneke, and I realise I haven’t responded.

‘It’s fine,’ Gen says, fingers twisting in the long sleeves of her running top.

‘I don’t know what I was thinking. We don’t need to do it.

Celeste is overreacting. Alizée’s profits are up, Croissants and Kilometres is growing each week.

And it’s cool if it repulses you.’ Her tone implies she’s joking, but the truth lies in the firm set of her shoulders, the way she’s biting her bottom lip.

Well, damn. I’ve stuffed this up, haven’t I?

‘I … no. That’s not … I didn’t …’ But the words I need are nowhere to be found. Probably because I have no idea what they are. I know what they aren’t, and that’s Did you want to kiss me? or Do you ever wonder if this thing between us could be real?

Gen nods. ‘This is good. Now we know where we both stand. Celeste got in my head and I was being silly. I’ll lead the warm-up today. I want to remind everyone that they can set up some Strava segments for the club.’

Gen speeds away, her ponytail swinging from side to side and her steps so rushed she’s basically sprinting.

I follow slowly, weighed down by all the thoughts I’ve tried to ignore. But there’s one I can’t escape.

I don’t want to kiss Gen for show.

I want it to be real.