Page 18 of Your Pace or Mine
There were nods from some of the more seasoned runners in the group, but not everyone looked convinced.
“The idea is to see what it feels like to really push on tired legs, you’ll be thankful for this session when you hit that final stretch down the Mall, I promise.”
“This isn’t secretly a way to kill me, is it?” Jamie asked, his tone light but laced with mock suspicion. “Revenge for your jumper?”
Darius couldn’t help the smirk tugging at his lips. “Not entirely,” he said, reaching up to stretch his arms overhead. “Though that was my favourite hoodie, so if you keep complaining, I might make it harder, just for you.”
Jamie stopped bouncing and fixed him with a dramatic glare. “You wouldn’t dare.”
Darius raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. “Wouldn’t I? I’ve got at least two intervals and a hill sprint with your name on them.”
The groan Jamie let out was pure theatre, his head tilting back like he was bemoaning the end of days. Darius’s eyes traced the column of his neck hungrily as he whinged. “I knew it. I’ve signed up for torture disguised as training.”
Darius laughed, the sound bubbling up before he could stop it. He didn’t laugh like this often—freely, without holding back—but Jamie had a way of pulling it out of him. “You’re being very dramatic about this for someone who clearly works out.”
“Ooh, nice to hear you’ve noticed.” Jamie winked, grinning now as he shook out his legs.
Darius rolled his eyes. He glanced around at the rest of the group, admittedly fewer people this week than previously. He could tell some of them were uncomfortable with his presence, and he blamed the never-ending barrage of articles that the first hit-piece had unleashed. But what could he do?
Come out?Ha. Not bloody likely. As much as the idea sometimes appealed to him, he knew the tabloids would have a field day speculating about his cruising spots, and his father would start pushing him to settle down with someone to kill the news cycle. As if anyone but the worst kind of gold-diggers would want to settle down with someone like him.
Even if the group was still wary of him, at least the longer distance tonight meant that they would be far from Anders for most of the session. “Ready to go, everyone?” he asked. “That is, if Jamie’s stopped stalling.”
Soft laughter rippled through the air as Jamie let out a huff.
Darius looked back over his shoulder, catching Jamie’s indignant expression before he fell into stride beside him.
“Stalling? I was mentally preparing,” Jamie said, a little breathless already.
Darius gave him a sideways glance, his grin softening. “You’ll be fine. Just think of it as one mile at a time. Pace yourself, and you won’t even notice the distance.”
Jamie made a sceptical noise in the back of his throat, but he kept up. Their shoes crunched in sync on the gravel path, eight miles of running ahead of them.
As they settled into a rhythm, Darius found himself glancing at Jamie more than he should—at the way his cheeks flushed pink from the cold, the determined set of his jaw, the faint bounce in his curls that escaped his cap, and the tattoo on his thigh peeking out from under the edge of his shorts with each step.
“You’re staring,” Jamie said after a minute. His voice was teasing, but his eyes were fixed on the path ahead.
“I’m checking your form,” Darius lied smoothly.
“Oh, sure. And how is it?”
Caught, Darius shook his head, a chuckle escaping. “You’ve got great posture.”
Jamie turned his head to look at him, his expression softening. “Flattery will only get you so far.”
“Good thing I’m not trying to flatter you. You’re overstriding. That’s a surefire way to get yourself injured,” Darius said, letting his pace quicken slightly, just enough to pull ahead. He was unsure if further conversation would be welcome.
Darius checked on the other runners in his group. They were in better form this week. Perhaps because the first few weeks had weeded out the less dedicated, or perhaps because they knew now that Darius wasn’t fucking around.
Jamie caught up to him again. “I’m not overstriding.”
“Whatever you say. Not like I’m the expert or anything,” Darius snarked back. He was surprised by the ease with which Jamie was engaging him. “You don’t seem as horrified to be near me as everyone else.”
Jamie shrugged. “I’m not really a fan of unfounded gossip. You’ve been kind of a dick to me, but like normal levels of dickishness, and Jennings seems fine with you. So maybe I’m just giving you the benefit of the doubt,” Jamie replied.
“Well, I appreciate it.”
Jamie nodded. “Does it bother you?” he asked. “The negative press?”
