Page 12 of Your Pace or Mine
“Sounds like exactly your type.”
“Oi, fuck off. I’m pretty sure he’s straight anyway,” Jamie replied.
“Why? Cause he didn’t immediately throw himself at you?” Reg teased.
“Obviously,” Jamie replied with a smirk. “Now eat my dust, loser!” he shouted at Reg in his best American accent as he took off, attempting to sprint the last hundred metres to his flat and collapsing through the door.
Reggie trailed behind him, laughing at his idiocy but helping him up the stairs and over to the kitchen table. Reg poured him a glass of cold water and tossed him a bag of salt and vinegar Hula Hoops as he made himself at home in Jamie’s space. Jamie’s flatmates just raised their eyebrows at the pair, barely looking up from the video game they were intently working their way through.
“I know it’s a cliché, mate, but please try to remember it’s a marathon, not a sprint.”
Jamie just threw a Hula Hoop at him in response, which Reggie promptly caught and chomped down on.
Reggie leaned back in his chair, still munching on the snack. “You know, I’ve been thinking,” he said casually.
Jamie raised an eyebrow. “That’s never a good sign.”
“Rude,” Reggie replied with mock offence. “But seriously, hear me out. You should get another tattoo when you finish the marathon.”
Jamie snorted, grabbing a handful of Hula Hoops. “Not that I’m not always up for more ink, but what’re you thinkin’? LikeMarathon Finisherin massive letters across my forehead? Not a chance, Lad.”
“Okay, maybe not your forehead,” Reggie conceded. “But something subtle. Like a little runner icon, or the race date. It’s a monumental achievement, mate. You’ll want to remember it.”
Jamie chewed thoughtfully. “I don’t know. Isn’t it a bit… cliché?”
“So what if it is?” Reggie countered. “Clichés are clichés for a reason. And let’s be real, Jamie, this is one of the coolest things you’ve ever done.”
Jamie rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips. “Alright, say I did it. Where would I even put it?”
Reggie leaned forward, grinning. “Hip. Definitely the hip. It’s subtle, sexy, and you can show it off to your posh coach.” He waggled his eyebrows again. “Or keep it private if you don’t want to be a walking marathon advertisement, like.”
Jamie groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Shut up about that, I should never have told you.” He pouted a bit. “I don’t know if I can afford another tattoo right now, but now I want it. Why do I let you talk me into shit?”
“Because I’m well smart,” Reggie replied smugly. “Trust me, you won’t regret it.”
Jamie shook his head and laughed despite himself. “Fine. If I survive the marathon, I’ll consider it.”
“That’s all I ask,” Reggie said, raising his water in a mock toast. “To tattoos and terrible life choices.”
“To terrible friends,” Jamie retorted, clinking his own glass against Reggie’s.
Chapter 5
Darius
14 weeks to the London marathon
“You 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 alawyer. 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.”
