Page 16 of Your Pace or Mine (Running for the Romance #1)
Darius sighed. It hadn’t even hurt that much when Jamie had said it the day before. He’d kind of figured he deserved it for the dig he’d made about Jamie being fame hungry. But being here, being the subject of his father’s continued disappointment, it made it all cut a bit deeper.
“Just something someone said at training yesterday, it’s nothing.”
“It clearly wasn’t nothing to you.”
“Seriously, Lena, it’s fine. Jamie didn’t mean anything by it. I’m the older brother, you don’t have to take care of me… and you don’t have to take care of Dad either.”
Selena stopped in her tracks. “Jamie?” she asked. “Jamie, the hot blonde that crashed into you and knocked you over all rom-com style?”
“Ok, first of all, that was not a rom-com moment. My favourite jumper was ruined.”
“I’m sure you can afford a new jumper, Darius,” Selena replied.
“Well, I’m sure you can afford to go to university without a full-ride scholarship, but here we are.”
Selena linked her arm through Darius’s. “So what did you say to him to upset him so much?”
“What makes you think I said something?”
“I’ve met you,” Selena deadpanned.
Darius kicked a rock down the gravel path. It barely moved an inch, but he did manage to scuff up his dress shoes. “Why’d you really apply for that scholarship?”
“You’re deflecting,” Selena announced, the excitement in her voice palpable. “You’re deflecting because you like him, but you fucked something up and he hurt your feelings.”
“I am not,” Darius replied. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Me thinks thou doth protest too much.”
“Don’t come at me with your Shakespeare quotes, Selena, I can out-Hamlet you any day of the week.”
Selena rolled her eyes, looking very much like the teenager she was.
“Fine, we won’t discuss your love life,” she agreed. “When’s your taxi arriving?”
“Ten minutes, and there is no love life.”
Selena grinned. “Perfect, plenty of time for me to explain the fine art of the Instagram reel.”
Darius let out a pained groan. “I’ve changed my mind. Let’s go back to discussing my non-existent love life, please.”
Settling into his seat on the train for the trip back to London, grateful to have escaped Sunday dinner with his dignity still more or less intact, Darius opened his text thread with Jamie.
They hadn’t messaged each other directly much since Jamie had added him to the group chat, but Darius still hated how they had left things the day before.
He typed out a message but couldn’t quite bring himself to hit send.
He wanted to reach out, but it felt too personal, like by doing that Jamie would be able to see all the parts of him that weren’t impervious to hurt.
Maybe Selena was right. Perhaps he had the tiniest of crushes. But God, who wouldn’t? Jamie was desire in human form—everything Darius had ever craved wrapped in snark and ready to grand jeté straight through Darius’s self-control.
The countryside passed by quickly as the train sped towards London. It had started to rain, and the window was streaked with droplets of water criss-crossing each other in a web-like fashion as they raced across the glass. Darius rested his head against the window and closed his eyes.
At the next station, a woman sat in the seat next to him.
He shifted closer to the window in an unspoken exchange of train etiquette and got his phone back out.
Navigating over to Instagram, he noticed a raft of new follow requests.
Selena continually voiced her disapproval, but keeping his profile private made him feel like he had an element of control. Likely an illusion, but still.
The requests were from the runners in his group. They’d all added him, even Mark.
Even Jamie.
His curiosity got the better of him, and he tapped open Jamie’s profile.
Acknowledging his attraction to the man had made him even more curious to learn about his life—or at least the one he presented to the world.
He was greeted by a veritable plethora of photos, far more than could be found on his own sparse page.
There were a handful of running photos near the top of the grid and appeals for his fundraiser with a link to a donation site in his bio.
Darius opened it, casually checking the total and noting Jamie wasn’t nearly as close to his target as he’d suggested.
He left the tab open on his phone for future reference and navigated back to Instagram, even more curious now.
Stage photos dominated the majority of the grid, interspersed with memes and what could only be described as thirst traps .
Darius’s eyes caught on one in particular. Jamie was at what looked like London Fields Lido, skin slightly pink from the sun as he lounged on a bright green towel near the pool. His sunglasses pushed back his curls to show off his sparkling blue eyes as he laughed at something off to the left.
Darius stared at the photo, categorising the details like the way the light caught just so on Jamie’s eyebrow ring and the tattoos covering his body.
He’d noted the edge of a tattoo inked on Jamie’s thigh when his shorts had ridden up during training, and could now see it was a large outline of the theatrical comedy and tragedy masks.
The photo also gave him a view of a beautifully intricate floral piece snaking around Jamie’s chest from the back and dipping below the waistband of his swimming costume.
A spark of lust shot through Darius as he wondered just where it finished.
Darius hadn’t realised just how long he’d been staring when the train lurched, coming to a stop at Paddington station.
Darius fumbled his phone, nearly dropping it.
He caught it just in the nick of time. It was lucky, the train floor was a mottled grey that he knew hid all kinds of sins.
His relief lasted only a moment, though.
When he looked down, he realised he’d double-tapped on the photo, leaving a like, halfway down Jamie’s grid on a picture of him half-naked.