Page 52 of Your Pace or Mine
“Why?” Jamie asked. “Your career hit a setback, fine, but you’re dealing with it, and you’re like so together. Like a proper grown-up. What could he possibly have to worry about?”
Darius scoffed. Was that really how Jamie saw him? “I have two friends, total. Haven’t been in a relationship since uni, and I let my father dictate everything about my life; from the house I live in, to my coach, the races I take on, and the sponsorships I accept. So, I don’t know if I’d really qualify for theproper grown-upcategory. Certainly not a very impressive one.”
“Darius, you’re still very impressive,” Jamie argued. “Trust me.” He leaned forward and kissed him. It was soft and slow, a complete contrast to the frantic clash of tongues in the clubhouse a few days before or the soft kiss they’d shared at Haven. Darius could taste the mocha cake on Jamie’s tongue as he responded, melting into the kiss as he slid his arms around Jamie’s waist.
When they broke apart, Jamie rested his forehead against Darius’s.
“I had Maria box up the rest of the cake and your sad little flapjack.”
“Hey, that is the best flapjack I’ve ever eaten.”
Jamie pulled his head back, and Darius mourned the loss of connection for a moment. “We should plan more, but well, at the risk of really putting you off—we’ve been talking so long I think my sweat’s started to crystallise, and if I don’t shower soon I’ll be scratching like a stray dog.”
Darius nodded, resigned to a long trip home alone but reluctant to leave Jamie just as he felt a real connection sparking.
“My place is just down the street, we could head back there, I could have a quick rinse and then, if you have time, maybe plan our next move?” Jamie continued.
“Yeah,” Darius breathed, squeezing Jamie’s hip where his left hand had fallen to rest. “I’d like that.”
They walked in quiet, companionable silence, Jamie leading Darius through the unfamiliar streets. Darius kept his arm wrapped around Jamie’s waist, his focus narrowed on that single point of contact that felt like an anchor, holding him steady in the whirlwind of the past few days.
Still, in the back of his mind, there was the nagging reminder that this was nothing more than a charade.
Jamie caught his eye, noticing the shift in his mood. “You good?” he asked, his voice soft.
Darius smiled, a little more genuinely now. “Yeah. I’m fine.” He took a deep breath, feeling lighter than he had in a while. “Thanks for today. It… I loved every minute.”
It was true. Spending time with Jamie, one-on-one like this with no buffer, had been a daunting but enticing prospect. Justas he had at the centre, though, Darius felt at ease in his company.
Jamie nodded; his smile was easy, unforced. “I’m glad, I, I loved it too.”
Chapter 13
Jamie
8 weeks to the London Marathon
Jamie led Darius through the winding side streets up to the nondescript front door of his flat and steeled himself for a reaction. He was conscious the entire time of the peeling paint and mould spores visible on the walls. Darius didn’t comment, though. He let his arm fall away from Jamie’s waist as they climbed the narrow stairs. Jamie grasped his hand as it fell away, not willing to stop touching him, even for a moment. He was worried Darius would remember they weren’t in public anymore. That they didn’t need to keep up appearances.
“So what was it you were thinking?” Darius asked, startling Jamie from his thoughts. “When my father rang? You looked upset.”
Jamie cringed. “It’s stupid.” It was worse than that. It was pathetic and slightly mortifying. He could lie, but what would be the point? “I thought it might be, like, a hookup or something, and I got… Well, I got a little bit possessive.”
Darius snorted out a laugh. “You think I’m the one with people blowing up my phone looking for hookups?”
“Darius, have you seen you?” Jamie asked. “Seriously, now that you’re out, I just thought, well, maybe you’d be looking around for something, and…”
“That would sort of make what we’re doing here a moot point, wouldn’t it?” Darius asked. “Can you imagine the field day the press would have if one of us were caught sleeping with someone else?”
“That’s, well, that’s a good point actually.” If that wasn’t an opening, then Jamie didn’t know what was. “We shouldn’t, I mean… with anyone, really… and…” Christ, why was this so hard to say? Jamie knew what he wanted, but he’d never had to ask for it before.
“You’re right,” Darius finally responded. “We shouldn’t. Not with anyone else.”
Jamie wasn’t sure if he’d really heard the emphasis on the final word, or if it was just wishful thinking on his part.
They reached the top of the stairs, and he pushed open the door. Jamie toed off his shoes as he entered the flat proper, gesturing to Darius to do the same. His flatmates seemed to be out for the day, and they were greeted by a somewhat clean and completely silent flat. Jamie skipped the tour, though, leading Darius straight to his bedroom.
Darius was silent, his expression neutral, but Jamie could see him subtly taking in the space—the cramped room, the mismatched furniture, the faint smell of damp that no amount of air freshener could entirely hide.
