Page 72 of In the Long Run
It’s on the tip of my tongue to reply, ‘I’ve been waiting for you,’ but that’s cheesier than the pizza we had for dinner.Besides, I’ve never been the guy who could get away with saying shit like that.But the way Gen looks at me makes me want to try.
‘Do you think, maybe, you could read to me?’Her foot brushes against my calf and I shift my legs, trapping it there.Not touching each other this afternoon has been torture.
‘I could do that.’
After all, it’s becoming increasingly apparent that I’ll do anything for Gen.Any nerves or traces of the tension that lingered before disappear when I glance over a few minutes later and see that she’s already asleep.My pride makes it easy to drift off to sleep smiling.
27
GEN
My dreams are filled with baguettes.I blink awake, giving myself a few seconds to adjust to the soft light of early morning.The quiet of the cottage is punctuated by Knox’s steady breathing.I nestle back into his warm chest, all cosy and content.Just as I really settle into how wonderful it is to wake up in Knox’s arms, my eyes pop open and I jolt upwards.
‘S’going on?’Knox jack-knifes into a seated position, the sheet falling to his waist where there’s a sizeable lump that’s shaped suspiciously like a … My eyes widen.That explains the baguette dreams.Let’s just say, he hasn’t got a dinner roll downstairs.
Knox rubs his eyes and his gaze settles on my bare legs.A hazy memory of getting hot overnight and taking off my pyjama pants tugs at my mind.
The baguette gets bigger.
‘Um.I’ll just …’Where are my pants?They’re not on the floor, which means they must be in the bed.
‘How did you sleep?’Knox asks and I can tell it’s a struggle to keep his voice even.That’s something at least.We should’ve just had sex.Aren’t orgasms good for muscle relaxation or something?Scientists should really look into this.
‘Good.’I didn’t even make it to the end of the first chapter ofhis book, lulled to sleep by Knox’s deep voice.I dig a hand under the covers, fingers sliding across the sheets.
Aha.There they are.My fingers close around a cotton drawstring, and I pull the pants closer, stuff my legs into them and tumble out of bed with none of the grace my years as a teen gymnast should’ve given me, landing in a heap on the floor.
‘Are you okay?’Knox leans over the edge of the bed.God, his bedhead would be best described as ‘sex on a stick’.
‘I’m fine,’ I say brightly to cover my embarrassment before jumping up, and bolting past the bed.I grab my race clothes and lock myself in the toilet, because if I don’t put some distance between us, we’re going to be doing a totally different type of cardio as our race warm-up.
The atmosphere in the race chute is electric.Around us people stretch and check their hydration packs or watches.Knox is quiet, but he’s been that way ever since I came out of the toilet to find him fully dressed, two plates ready with a piece of peanut butter toast and a banana on each.
‘Any words of inspiration for us?’Anneke asks.
‘Have fun out there,’ Knox says simply.‘I have no doubt every one of you is going to smash this.’
‘You okay?’I nudge Violet, who has also been quiet.
She swallows and nods.‘I’ve had a baby.I can do anything, right?Oh, I’m sorry.I didn’t mean to imply anyone who hasn’t had a baby can’t do it.I meant—’
‘It’s fine.I get it.We can all do hard things.’
The wave in front of us shuffles closer to the start line.
Violet breathes out slowly.‘I need to go to the bathroom again.God.How many nervous wees can one person do?’
Music starts pumping from the speakers around the startinggate.An official-looking man on a small stage tells us it’s time to warm up.A poppy beat takes over as we jump in place, stretch our calves and hamstrings.
‘I’m going to be sick,’ Violet moans.
‘You’re going to be fine,’ Knox says.
‘You want to know what one of my favourite running sayings is?’I say.
Everyone looks at me and it’s not nearly as daunting now that we’re all friends.I roll my shoulders, which makes the water in the bladder of my hydration vest slosh around.‘I don’t know who said it, but for the first half of your run, don’t be a hero.And in the second half, don’t be a wimp.We can all do this.It’s going to be great.’
The first five kilometres are a slog.Our group breaks up as people thread throughout the crowd, find their target pace and settle into the run.Clouds are scattered across the sky, but so far the predicted rain has held off.
