Page 41 of Your Pace or Mine (Running for the Romance #1)
Darius took her offered arm, and they walked towards the centre together. “That was adorable. The little girl was so excited to meet you.”
Alanna’s expression shifted. “She was sweet,” she said. “She’s losing her vision, a degenerative condition. By the time she’s my age, she’ll be fully blind.” She got a bit choked up as she continued. “Said she’s been learning all about me and that I made her feel less afraid.”
Darius was silent for a minute as Alanna composed herself. “That’s incredible, Alanna, genuinely.”
“It’s all I really want with this, to give people that hope,” she said. “I mean, aside from another gold medal and more sponsors.”
“The trifecta,” Darius laughed.
“I hear you’re pacing this one?” she asked tentatively. In that moment, Darius realised he was proud of his choice. Fuck Anders, fuck the selection committee and their politics. Darius wanted this race to mean something. “Yeah, yeah, I am. Join me to pick up my has-been flag?”
Alanna shoved his arm, and they entered the expo laughing together.
The atmosphere hit Darius like a wave of sound and motion.
The hum of excited chatter swelled into a roar as they stepped inside, a mix of accents, languages, and the occasional burst of laughter filled his ears.
It was just like every other year, but somehow incredibly different.
Massive screens displayed looping footage of past races, the runners surging forward like a tide while dramatic music swelled in the background.
Everywhere he looked, there were people: groups clustered around merchandise stalls, families snapping photos under oversized London Marathon banners, and volunteers handing out race packets with practised efficiency.
Darius couldn’t help but feel like an impostor.
Usually, when he walked into this space, he was a contender—a name people whispered about, pointing him out as he passed.
Now, the anonymity he’d aimed for when getting ready today felt like both a relief and a sting.
No one recognised him in his nondescript hoodie and jeans, but that was good; it was what he deserved.
“Alright, where do we start?” Alanna asked, nudging him playfully with her elbow. She still wore her ParalympicsGB jacket, and more than a few people turned to glance her way as they passed.
“Flag pickup,” Darius said, gesturing towards the pacing stand. “Then coffee. Definitely coffee.”
“Lead the way,” she replied, a faint smirk tugging at her lips.
They wove through the crowd, sidestepping a group of runners excitedly comparing notes about training plans. Darius kept his head down; the last thing he wanted was to catch a glimpse of his face on one of those monitors showing past winners.
The pacing stand was tucked away near the back of the hall, a smaller booth dwarfed by the towering displays for shoe brands and sports drinks.
A volunteer handed him the flag with a practised smile, and Darius hooked the strap on his arm— it was already awkward to carry.
He’d been assigned the 3:30 pace group, as expected.
There was no guarantee he’d see Jamie, of course.
His mind drifted back to Chi’s texts. There was no guarantee Jamie would be there at all.
“Feeling good?” Alanna asked as he returned to her side.
“Yeah, it’s a real statement,” he muttered.
“Come on, you’re helping people hit their goals. That’s worth something,” she said.
“I know, I know, that’s the point after all.”
They wandered through the expo after that, stopping at a few booths where Alanna was inevitably recognised.
At one stand, a representative eagerly asked her to try a new line of adaptive running gear.
At another, she patiently posed for photos with a group of volunteers.
Darius lingered on the edges, watching but never quite joining in, trying to keep his anonymity as long as possible.
As they walked towards the coffee stand, a booming voice over the PA announced the upcoming roundtable discussion with elite athletes. He grimaced.
“Not staying for the panel?” Alanna asked, her voice teasing but gentle.
“Nope,” he said, his tone clipped.
“You should.”
He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I can’t.”
Alanna raised an eyebrow but didn’t press. Instead, she linked her arm with his again. “Come on, let’s get that coffee. You’re no good to anyone if you’re grumpy and under-caffeinated.”
As they waited in line, Darius glanced around the bustling expo hall. He still felt out of place, and the glowing beacon of a pacer flag wasn’t helping. As the queue moved forward, he recognised an obnoxious voice behind them.
“Surely we don’t all need to stand in the queue.“ It was Mark, he’d recognise the drawl anywhere, and if Mark was there, then it was likely the whole group was.
Adam spotted him first. “Darius!”
His voice seemed to ring out above the noise of the hall.
Darius turned and nodded at them.
“Friends of yours?” Alanna asked.
“I’ve been coaching them,” Darius replied.
Alanna nodded. “Want to join them before they make a bigger scene and reveal your secret identity?”
“Very funny. But yeah, probably a good idea,” he sighed.
He waved to Adam as the queue moved forward, and Darius with it. He ordered his and Alanna’s drinks before stepping aside, out of the main traffic of the area, as they waited for the group to collect their orders.
When they approached, Alanna immediately reached out, introducing herself.
Claire blinked in recognition. “Alanna? As in Paralympic Gold Medallist Alanna ? Wow, okay, uh—nice to meet you.”
As the group began peppering Alanna with questions, Chi pulled Darius aside. “He picked up his bib first thing, so I think he’ll be there.”
“How did you find out?”
Chi shrugged. “I’m good at making friends, they checked for me.”
“Okay, that’s good, right? He’s doing alright?”
Chi tilted their head. “I don’t get it. You two are so obviously in love, and you’re both suffering. Why not try to fix it?”
“I’m sure you’ve seen the papers, Chi. It’s not that simple.”
“Please, of course it is. You love him,” Chi scoffed. “So find a way to fix it. Because we want to get the group back together, make it a permanent thing, and it won’t be the same without you two.”
“I’m trying, Chi. I just don’t know how.”
Chi shrugged. “Well, figure it out quick.”
Darius nodded, as if that wasn’t what he’d been trying to do for days.
“Holy fuck,” a voice came from the side, “you’re Darius Hewitt.”
Chi shot him a sly smile, returning to the rest of the group as Darius tried to plaster a grin on his face, the fake one reserved for meeting fans or the press. It wasn’t that he didn’t like talking to people. He didn’t… so maybe it was that, but today of all days. Fuck.
The man next to him couldn’t have been more than twenty years old; he had long brown hair tied up in a bun and an Oxford Blues cross-country jumper that instantly transported Darius back in time. He was carrying a pacing flag as well.
“My boyfriend is going to be so jealous, he’s running his first elite race tomorrow, so he’s already gone home to rest, but he’s a huge fan. When you came out this year, mate, it changed everything for us.”
The man grinned at him, and Darius realised that it had actually been worth it. Regardless of where he ended up with Jamie, regardless of his plans for the centre, he’d done something good this year.
“That’s amazing, London’s a great first race—the elite field here is like no other,” he replied, trying to infuse his words with the kind of acceptance he knew he had craved at that age.
“I’m Jacob.” He stuck out his hand, and Darius shook it immediately. “Could we, I mean, would it be ok if we got a selfie?”
Darius laughed. Jacob’s enthusiasm was infectious. “Yeah, of course, mate.”
“You must be pretty fast yourself, didn’t fancy going pro?” he asked with a nod to the shirt, a hallmark of Oxford’s top cross-country runners.
“I’m not good enough.” He shrugged. “It’s a fun hobby, but I really only joined to meet boys. I’ve only got a year left in uni. It’ll be hard to leave behind, but I’m not elite level like Malek is, and I figure one of us dealing with the insane schedule will be enough.”
“You don’t have to compete at the elite level to keep running,” Darius replied.
“Yeah, to be fair, I can’t see myself giving this up for good,” Jacob replied with a smile.
Darius nodded. “Maybe catch you at the start line? Looks like we’re pacing the same group.”
Jacob grinned. “Definitely! See you tomorrow!” he said as he bounded off into the crowd.