Page 8 of Your Pace or Mine (Running for the Romance #1)

Darius

“ Y ou dealing okay after that article?” Jax asked as they finished their run just in front of Darius’s townhouse.

Darius let out a sigh. “It is what it is, right?”

“Just, sorry,” Jackson cringed. “I hate seeing that kind of shit about you. And I’m sorry for my part in it.”

It hadn’t even occurred to Darius to place any blame on Jackson for his bad press. “Seriously, it’s fine. I’m dealing with it. It’s no worse than the usual.”

“Yeah?” Jackson asked, uncertain. At Darius’s nod, he relaxed.

“So, what do you think of the clinics so far, otherwise? Fun, right?” Jax said as he flopped down on Darius’s sofa.

“Did you see that brunette in the bun huggers? We were chatting after. She’s a lawyer .

Think she might be into me.“ Jackson was still in his sweaty shorts after their long run that had been blissfully too fast for conversation.

“You think everyone’s into you,” Darius chirped. “I’d wager she’d have too much self-respect to go anywhere near your sweaty arse.”

Jackson grinned. “Please, you love my sweaty arse.”

Darius glared at him. “Not on my clean white sofa, I don’t,” he replied. “Go take a damn shower.”

The truth was, Darius didn’t hate coaching the clinic quite as much as he’d expected to.

Sure, Anders had been his usual dickish self, and he’d been hassled for sponsorship even more than he’d expected, but it had been kind of alright once they were running.

The article that had come off the back of it had hurt, but it didn’t change the fact that he would still be back again for the next one, with more to prove than ever.

The sound of the shower filtered into the room, giving Darius a few minutes to think. It still seemed unfair, having to play show pony for Anders like this just to get him to consider him for a spot that should have been guaranteed.

Jackson came back just minutes later, a towel slung low on his hips as he shook his long auburn hair dry, water droplets flying around the room.

“Ugh,” Darius groaned. “I swear, you’re worse than a dog.”

Jackson just smirked at him and shook his hair more vigorously. “So, you didn’t notice my hot brunette. Could that be because you were preoccupied with a blonde Scouser for most of the night?”

Darius groaned. “Are you still on this? Seriously? I wasn’t there to check people out.”

“So you didn’t notice Jason at all then?”

“Jamie,” Darius replied instantly. He only caught the fatal error he’d made when he saw the grin form on Jackson’s face. “Not a word from you.”

Jackson held his hands up in surrender, but the mirth struggling to stay contained was unmistakable.

The expression faded quickly from Jackson’s face when he glanced at his phone. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Yeah?” Darius replied. “Is this a cup of tea conversation?”

“Only if you’ve got the good shit. None of that weird herbal stuff you’re always trying to peddle.”

“Yerba mate enhances athletic performance.”

“Yeah, yeah. Get me a proper builder’s brew or I ain’t talking,” Jackson replied.

“You’re the one who wanted to talk in the first place.”

Jackson shifted. He looked genuinely uncomfortable, so Darius relented. “I keep some Earl Grey for Selena in the cupboard above the fridge, that’s the closest I can offer.”

As Jackson busied himself filling the kettle and getting tea bags out, Darius observed him quietly. “Is this about Owens?”

“What?” Jackson started. “Why would it be about Owens?”

“You just seemed pretty concerned about him edging you out for the Olympics.”

Jackson snorted as he handed Darius a steaming cup of Yerba Mate before adding milk and sugar to his own mug. “No, it’s not about that.”

Darius waited quietly for Jackson to continue.

“I know you said the article thing was fine and all… I just, I think you should know that Anders pulled me aside after the clinic.”

Darius shrugged, though inwardly his heart kicked up a gear. “What did he want?”

“He was checking I was ok, that you hadn’t upset me or anything.”

Darius frowned. “Why does he think I’d upset you?”

Jackson shifted uncomfortably. “He seemed to think you had a problem with my sexuality.”

A loud guffaw escaped Darius before he could control it. “That’s mad.”

“I know, but what was I meant to say, Darius? He didn’t buy it when I said we were fine, and I couldn’t really defend you without outing you.”

Darius narrowed his eyes. “What did you say, Jax?”

Jackson mumbled something imperceptible. Then cleared his throat. “No comment.”

“What?”

“No comment, I said, no comment.”

That was not good. Darius had been through countless hours of media training and knew well enough that declining to comment just left room for whatever story they were spinning in their heads.

Anders might not be media, but he seemed to have the uncanny ability to smell blood in the water that they did.

“Why would you say that?” Darius asked. He was trying to be objective, but couldn’t help some of the hurt creeping through. “And did anyone hear?”

“I don’t know,” Jackson wailed. “I panicked, and…”

“And?”

“Well, things have been kind of weird with us this year, and I guess I was thinking about that, and Anders caught me off guard.”

Things had been weird. Mostly since Jackson had put a stop to the benefits element of their friends with benefits situation.

Darius hadn’t really thought much of it.

They just needed to find their rhythm again.

It wasn’t like he had been harbouring some deep romantic feelings for Jackson.

The thing between them was just convenience.

He was a good mate and fun to hook up with, but they were hardly going to leap into each other’s arms and share dramatic kisses at the finish line of their next race.

He really didn’t want to lose him as a friend, though; he didn’t have many of those.

“We’ll be fine, right?” Darius asked. Far more worried about losing one of the few people he could relax around than any unsavoury articles the tabloids may publish.

“Yeah, I mean. If you can forgive me for the Anders thing.”

“I doubt he could hate me more than he already does. He’s just fishing for reasons at this point, and that article would have happened either way.”

Jackson nodded. “You could always set him straight on that, make them all eat their words… if you considered coming out.”

“I am out.”

That earned Darius an eye roll. “Publicly, Darius.”

“I don’t want to make a big show of things, you know how my father hates seeing our family in the tabloids, and even if I was going to, it seems too contrived to do it now,” he said. “Besides, it’s not like I have anyone to come out for.”

“You could, though, and it’d be a lot easier if half the people you meet didn’t assume you were a bigot.”

Darius sank further into the sofa. “Maybe.” He sighed.

He really wanted to change the topic. This was too much introspection for him.

Jax was a romantic at heart, and Darius knew he wanted to find someone.

Darius didn’t need romance in his life, all it brought was problems. He’d learned that early on from his parents’ dramatic split and the subsequent battles over finances before his mum had disappeared back to Spain with her lover.

His dad had become even more closed off then; colder and more prone to reminding Darius and Selena just how the world really worked.

‘No one cares about you, only what you can give them,’ he’d say, or his favourite.

‘If you weren’t rich, they wouldn’t bother with your name, let alone your company. ’ Maybe he was right.

“What about you? Anyone special?”

Jackson flushed. “I don’t know. Maybe, I mean. There was that hot brunette…”

Darius could tell he was holding something back, but he didn’t push.

“Besides, I’m sure the Olympic Village will be full of fit people looking for a bit of fun, we’ll both do well there. That is, if you aren’t tied down to Jaaaamieee by then.”

“You’re ridiculous. Why are we friends?” Darius asked.

Jackson winked at him. “Best friends, you know that, right?” He threw his hoodie on as he headed for the door. “We’re cool, though?”

“Of course we are,” Darius replied. And he meant it.

“And you’ll be back at the clinic again this week, right? Don’t let Anders get you down. I know it was kind of, well, awful at the start there.”

“You mean when he implied to everyone that I was classist and homophobic?”

“Yeah, and I guess that article won’t have helped,” Jackson grimaced.

“It’s fine, it just would be nice to be able to defend myself.”

“I mean, you could, if you’d just…”

“No,” Darius shut that down. It was hard enough being the only mixed-race man at every event he was forced to represent his family at.

He didn’t need to be the intersectionality poster boy for the British aristocracy.

And that wasn’t even starting on the problems it could cause him professionally—though not being out wasn’t doing him any favours either.

“Does that mean you aren’t coming back?”

Darius shrugged. “No, I’ll be there. I can’t give Anders the satisfaction of scaring me off. And he’ll have to realise eventually, right? That I can be a team player, that I’d be a good choice?”

Jackson grinned. “Totally. It’ll be great.”

As Jackson let himself out, Darius tipped out the rest of his cold tea into the sink and settled in for an evening on his own, reading on the sofa in his empty townhouse, unable to shake the feeling that, no, it probably wouldn’t be great. But maybe it would work.