Page 29 of Your Pace or Mine (Running for the Romance #1)

Jackson shrugged. “It’s fun to be me. Besides, we’re heading to St. Moritz in like two weeks, it’d be cool to see you more before then.”

“St. Moritz? Not Iten?”

“Nah, Anders has insisted on some posh Swiss hotel. You’d probably get on if you didn’t like, bitterly hate each other.”

Darius snorted. Un-bloody-likely . “I don’t hate him, I just don’t appreciate his totally unfounded attitude towards me.”

The following Tuesday night, back at the track where he’d first met Jamie, couldn’t have felt more different from the last time he’d been there.

They arrived right on time. Jamie’s hand was in his, and his little cohort of runners flanked them, talking and laughing as they walked through the gates.

Darius felt, not untouchable, but pretty damn close.

Jackson came over and pulled both Darius and Jamie into a boisterous hug. “You came back!”

“I told you we would,” Darius replied imperiously.

Jackson grinned. From a few yards away, Anders called for everyone to get back to work. Jackson went back to his group, and Darius set his little running family out on their run.

Everything seemed unusually fine.

The session was hard, leaving little opportunity for talking as the group pushed through the challenging workout, though that just left Darius with more time for his mind to wander.

His eyes found Anders at the side of the track, punching something into his phone angrily.

At least that anger wasn’t directed at him this time.

Of course, that changed once the session ended, as a small gaggle of reporters had pushed their way in through the unlocked gate.

“Hewitt,” Anders whispered, anger seeping through. “This is your fault. Get rid of them, now.”

Darius steeled himself. Anders was right about this. They were here for him. He jogged over to the reporters, attempting to plaster a smile on his face. “This is a closed training session,” he reminded them, not that he expected it to make any difference.

One of them got up in his face immediately. “Darius Hewitt, tell us how you feel about the Olympic selection. Was it a shock to see Jennings chosen over you?”

“Jackson is a close friend, and I’m happy for him. I hope to be joining him in the Olympic Village in August.”

“So you still think there’s a chance you could be on the team?”

“There are potentially two open spots still.” Darius shrugged, trying to convey far more confidence than he felt inside.

“And you don’t think recent speculation around your sexuality will impact that selection?”

Darius inhaled sharply. It was the first time he’d been asked this directly. “I’m sure the selection committee is building the strongest team they can for the Olympics. I don’t see why my sexuality would have any bearing on that.”

He was surprised by how unconcerned he truly felt about that. If anything, he was hoping that coming out would endear him to the committee further, help them see he’d had a reason for being closed off before. Though, of course, he’d never voice that to the press.

“Hewitt,” Anders shouted. “Stop pandering to the media and get your group through their cool down.”

Darius gave his best faux apologetic smile to the reporters. “I’m so sorry, but this really is a closed session. You’re welcome to reach out via my agent if you have any other questions.”

He tried to usher them out the gate, closing and locking it the second they’d been backed up far enough.

Once they were out, though, his earlier confidence rushed out of him. He sank to the ground, leaning against the cold metal of the high fence. Jamie was at his side in a flash.

“Are you ok?” he asked, crouching next to him.

Darius nodded. “I, yeah, I think it was fine, all things considered.”

Jamie placed a hand gently on his jaw and turned his head towards him, kissing him just once before releasing him and helping him to his feet. Anders was watching with narrowed eyes.

Jackson wolf whistled, and all the tension shattered as Darius and Jamie returned to the group for a cool down.

Things had been going to plan, finally. The articles released following the impromptu questioning the previous Tuesday had painted Darius as supportive of his fellow athletes and dedicated to the sport.

It was exactly like they’d hoped, but his agent still hadn’t heard any positive whispers about Olympic selection.

As far as he could tell, Jamie didn’t seem to have benefitted much from their arrangement.

He’d still yet to be called in for an audition, apparently the longest he’d gone without since graduating.

He stayed on top of his conditioning, though, constantly teaching or attending classes when he wasn’t out running.

Darius had started to really admire his dedication to staying ready despite the slump.

Darius adjusted his collar for the third time, his hands fidgeting with a nervous energy he wasn’t accustomed to.

When he’d asked Jamie to come out on a date with him, something different to the volunteering and training that had made up most of their time together, he’d mostly been thinking about how much he wanted to give him a special evening out.

Jamie had agreed easily, tacking on that it would be good for them to be seen in public together, which had served as a much-needed reminder that their time together was just a ploy.

Darius knew he wanted more, though he was having trouble working up the courage to broach the topic with Jamie. Maybe tonight.

He’d arrived early, the restaurant not being far from his house.

The small, private dining room was perfect.

The flickering candlelight caught on the dark wood of the table, and the scent of fresh flowers mixed with the faint aroma of spices from the restaurant’s open kitchen.

It was intimate without being overwhelming, thoughtful without being over the top.

At least, he hoped so.

The nerves were unusual for him. He’d faced down world-class athletes, media scrums, and even his own father’s scathing critiques without breaking a sweat. But today was different. Today was Jamie.

When Jamie walked in, Darius felt the air in the room shift.

“Hey,” Jamie said, his voice warm and slightly breathless like he’d hurried to get here. His smile lit up the room more effectively than the candles ever could. “Sorry if I’m late. The class I was teaching ran over.”

“You’re perfect,” Darius said before he could stop himself, the words tumbling out unfiltered. He felt heat creep up his neck as Jamie’s smile softened into something more intimate.

“Smooth,” Jamie teased, but his cheeks tinted pink as he stepped closer.

They settled into easy conversation, the kind that felt more like picking up where they’d left off than starting anew. Jamie had a way of drawing Darius out. Whenever Darius felt silence start to descend, he drew them back to the topic where he was most comfortable—the marathon.

“So, despite the setback with your knee, are you feeling ok about the marathon now?” Darius asked.

Jamie’s expression became more serious. “I think so,” he said. “I’m feeling pretty good. Seeing Sebastien regularly has helped, and training with you has obviously been brilliant. Just, it’s quite daunting. Like, what if I haven’t done enough? It’s probably silly.” Jamie flushed.

“That’s not silly at all,” Darius replied sincerely. “I don’t think there’s a runner on earth that doesn’t go through that before a race. You’re going to be fine, though, you’re doing so well.”

“Promise?” Jamie asked.

“Yeah, Jamie. I promise.”

“I’ll just have to stick really close to you,” Jamie said. “The miles go by so much faster when we run together.”

A warmth erupted in Darius’s chest. He pressed his knee against Jamie’s under the table. “I like running with you, too, you know. I’m sorry about Tuesday. I didn’t expect the reporters to show up there.”

“You didn’t? Darius, isn’t that kind of the point? Get them printing something positive about you for once? And it worked, right?”

“I suppose.” If that wasn’t a reminder that this was nothing, then what would be? Still, he had to try.

“Jamie, does this, pretending still feel okay to you?” There he’d said it.

Jamie was staring at him. “Of course it does.” Something flashed behind Jamie’s eyes. “Wait, is this? Are you fake breaking up with me?”

“No!” Darius practically shouted. “I was, I wanted to make sure you were still okay with everything, is all.”

Jamie smiled. “Of course I am. I get that we’d never work for real, but I think we’re pulling it off pretty well.”

Right, they’d never work for real. Though Darius was struggling to find the reasons for that.

“Besides, not all of it’s pretend, I think that helps.” Jamie licked his spoon lasciviously.

So that was all Jamie wanted from him. It hurt more than he allowed himself to show, but he’d be fine. Great even. Casual was Darius’s go-to. He was excellent at being friends with benefits, and probably not great at anything more, so maybe it was for the best.

Jamie cocked his head to the side, fluttered his eyelashes and replied coquettishly. “You gonna invite me back to your place, Mr?”

“Are you having a stroke or is there something in your eye?” Darius snarked, trying to get them back on even footing.

Jamie laughed, the sparkle returning to his eyes.

Now that the thought was voiced, Darius wanted to get Jamie somewhere private.

If this was all they’d ever be, then he was going to make the most of it while he could.

When the waiter returned with dessert menus, Jamie and Darius shared a single loaded glance before requesting the bill.