Page 48 of In the Long Run
The gym was a bad idea.Knox looks good when he runs, but lifting weights?In a singlet that highlights the dips and ridges of his abs, his shoulders?I’m not the only one who’s noticed either.In everyone else’s defence, he’s hard to ignore.One knee on the bench, back straight, and biceps and triceps andwhatever-cepsflexing as he does bent-over rows.Don’t even get me started on the view I have of his ass right now.Two firm globes of pure muscle.More than adequate for someone to hypothetically dig their fingernails into.
He lifts the big dumbbell slowly, his trademark control and composure on display.His only tell is how his jaw clenches with the effort.
Heat flows through my body and I’m sweating like I’m trying to break the world record for burpees.Grunting, I lift a medicine ball over my head and slam it down.My arms are like jelly already.
Knox finishes his reps and moves to the station next to mine.He wipes his face with the bottom of his singlet, exposing acres of what is at least an eightpack – numbers are my thing, remember – and a smattering of dark hair that trails down below his waistband.
‘Gen?’
Oh God.I’ve been staring.This is why I can’t have nice things.I bend over and pick up the medicine ball, holding it against my stomach like it’s a lifesaving ring and not something that would drag me to the bottom of the ocean.If I don’t keep my hands occupied, I’m liable to do something ridiculous like offer to towel him down.
‘Yes?’I shoot for casual and miss it by a country mile, the word more of a grunt than anything else.
‘Are you finished with the medicine ball?’
I can’t explain what happens next – I pray Mere and Bernie never check the security cameras – because I chuck the ball at Knox.Not pass it.Or gently lob it.Well, as gently as you can lob a twelve-kilogram ball.It hits him with anoofthat sends him staggering back into a rack of resistance bands.
‘Sorry!’I cry, rushing over to him and attracting the attention of the people who weren’t already watching us.Who am I kidding?Everyone was watching us.
My throat tightens and my mouth opens and closes but nothing comes out.Knox is too close andhewould like to kissme.His spicy, musky scent floats around me, rendering the last two working brain cells I had useless.
‘Is everything okay?You seem a bit off today,’ he says.
Bless him for finding a polite way to say ‘unhinged’.And no, I’m not okay.I can’t stop thinking about what it would be like to pull him close, press myself up against all the muscles that are currently shining under the gym’s lights and press my mouth against his.I want to taste him.Give in to the fantasies that have plagued me since we met.
He shifts the medicine ball to one side, resting it on his hip, and waits for me to reply, because that’s how questions work, isn’t it?You’re supposed to answer.
‘I’m fine.’
‘There you are!’someone calls.Mum?
I’m no longer fine.
‘Bernie said you were here.’Mum glides through the room until she’s stopped in front of us.Her smile widens when she sees Knox.My heart sinks because I love my mother, but it’s not hard to predict how this conversation is going to go.
‘Mum.Hi.What are you doing here?’
‘I found the cutest outfits for Mere’s baby when I was out with the girls this morning and I couldn’t wait to drop them off.’
Her eyes dart from my face to Knox’s and back again.I sigh.
‘Mum, this is Knox.Knox, this is my mother, Eva Halliday.’
Knox offers his hand to Mum, who clasps it tightly.‘Nice to meet you, Mrs Halliday.’
‘Oh, it’s Eva, please.Mrs Halliday was my mother-in-law.I was hoping I’d get to meet you soon.One of my friends was telling me all about your and Gen’s social media adventures!Certainly looks like you two are having a lot of fun together.’
I duck my head when I hear the hurt in her words.It’s well disguised under her bubbly tone, but it’s still there.This is why there should be a special algorithm that allows parents and their adult children to share only benign content with each other.For example, yesterday’s sunrise was beautiful.A cacophony ofambers and scarlets that said hello to the world so gorgeously I had to share it with my seventeen followers.Are there any potential issues if Mum sees that?Nope.She knows I run early.That I love a sunrise.We can have a lovely, no-strings-attached text exchange over how awesome Mother Nature is.
But going viral with the hot guy you said you weren’t interested in, multiple times over the course of six weeks?Who you’re supposed to be pretending to like but now you really do?Without getting her hopes up?That’s a hard conversation to have.
‘This is my favourite one.’She whips out her phone and shoves it under Knox’s nose.It’s the video Celeste was working on at last week’s dinner.It’s more stylised, with smooth transitions and fun gifs overlayed against shots of runners set against the early morning skies.Train Hardsplashes across the screen above footage of Bernie leading his group through butt kicks before changing to some of the Army runners racing each other down the Esplanade.The bay is glassy and shimmery and perfect behind them.Then it switches to the Annas high-fiving each other, all bouncy ponytails and human embodiments of a post-run high asChallenge Yourselfappears.And then it’s Knox and me, our legs moving in sync.I squint, remembering what’s coming.Play Hard.His arm lifts and he gently pushes me, a smile tugging at his lips like there’s no way he could possibly stop it.
Reward Yourselfpops up on the video before the background image dissolves.It’s replaced by a single image of Knox behind the pâtisserie’s counter wearing an apron and a backwards baseball cap as he passes me my coffee.And almost as though it was scripted, he blushes when I smile at him.
Come for the run.Stay for the fun.
Croissants & Kilometres: the Run Club for Everyone.
