Page 68 of Your Pace or Mine
Jamie shifted uncomfortably, clearly picking up on the tension. “Rowing’s pretty intense, right? I mean, the training alone must be brutal.”
Selena grinned at him; her confidence returned. “It is. Which is why I’m going to crush it. And besides, it’s nothing compared to keeping this guy,” she jabbed a thumb at Darius, “from looking like a prat online.”
Darius snorted. “You’re lucky I let you anywhere near my accounts.”
“I’m your secret weapon,” Selena retorted, tapping her temple. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to brainstorm captions for this very sweet picture of the two of you that sells yourabsolutely not realrelationship,“ she drawled, pulling up a candid shot of the two of them wrapped around each other in the gardens. Darius’s heart stuttered at the photo. Selena was right, everything he felt for Jamie was written on his face, plain as anything in that picture.
Darius levelled her with a flat look. “You’re insufferable.”
“You love me,” Selena shot back, her grin unrepentant.
Jamie peeked out from between his fingers. “You’re terrifying,” he said, though there was a hint of a smile in his voice. “But could you send me that?”
“Of course,” Selena said with a wink.
After a long drive back to the townhouse, Darius was acutely aware of his feelings for the man he’d come to know over the past couple of months. By unspoken agreement, Jamie followed Darius inside. He had plenty of his things here now, and Dariusabsolutely would have protested if he had suggested returning to his flat on the other side of the city.
They settled in the front room. It was an area of the house Darius didn’t use nearly as much as he’d like, mostly as the large bay window offered little in the way of privacy, but he’d drawn the heavy brocade curtains and turned on the gas fireplace to stave off the slight chill of the evening. It had started raining on their way home and didn’t look to be letting up anytime soon.
They sipped tea and Jamie chattered about a TV programme he liked to watch where D-list celebrities competed in some kind of dancing competition. Apparently, it was very popular, but Darius hadn’t really ever watched television and didn’t own one. The only thing he ever watched was video of his own races, to pinpoint every mistake he’d made, or of his competition to work on strategy, and his tablet was just fine for that.
What Darius did have in his front room was a sleek baby grand piano. Every once in a while, as they chatted, he’d see Jamie’s eyes drifting over to it.
“Do you play?” Darius asked.
“Me?” Jamie asked, eyes widening. “No, not at all.” Then, “Do you?”
Darius laughed. “Do you really think I’m the type to keep something around just for show?” he teased.
The interest shining in Jamie’s eyes was enough to convince Darius he should make more of a habit of playing. He’d grown up playing the piano; it was one of the manyessentialskills he and Selena had drilled into them from a young age. He’d had a horrible teacher, more drill sergeant than inspiring artist, but his mother had loved listening to him play, so he’d stuck it out, practising diligently at every opportunity until he was good enough to continue on his own without his hated tutor. It had set the tone for his approach to most things in life, actually;be so good that nobody can question you.
Take back control through excellence.
He’d always considered it one of his better traits, but now that he was in a position where no amount of excellence could save his career, he realised how much it had caused him to push people away. His conversation with Jamie in the garden had cemented his conviction that he wanted to do more good in the world. Just being with Jamie had given him a little taste of what else life could be, and he desperately wanted to hold on to it.
Darius took a seat at the piano, warming up his hands with some quick scales before launching into one of the few pieces he had memorised. Every so often, he glanced over at Jamie, who had his eyes shut, body swaying gently along with the music, and wondered how, despite everything that was wrong in his life, he had got so incredibly lucky.
The piece came to a close, and Darius rested his hands on the piano. Music had always had a transformative sort of power for him. Maybe it was the association with happier times, because despite how complex his feelings about his mother were now, those had been happy times.
“Do you think he’s right?” Darius asked Jamie. “My father?”
“Are we talking about the travesty of the fox-hunting ban or that they let the lower classes represent the country in the Olympics?” Jamie asked.
“Well, ha ha.” Darius rolled his eyes at Jamie. “Was this, was coming out the wrong choice?”
“Oh, absolutely, we should trust all major life decisions to a man who has never worked a day in his life and thinks tweed blazers are the height of fashion.”
Darius glared half-heartedly. “Can you at least try to take this seriously? It’s my life we’re talking about.”
“C’mon, it’s a little funny, right? Your dad wants what’s best for you, I think, in his own way. But, you have to admit he’s well out of touch with the world,” Jamie said. “And it’s working, justcheck your media coverage—people love us. Besides, it’s done now, either way,” Jamie pushed back.
“I can’t remember the last time he said he was proud of me,” Darius said quietly. “Thank you for that.”
“I didn’t do anything but tell him the truth.”
“I…” Darius wanted to tell him how he felt, but the fear of losing him too soon stopped him in his tracks. “Just, thank you, Jamie. For all of it.”
Jamie smiled, and Darius leaned in to place a soft kiss on his lips. “Is there anything I need to know for tomorrow night?”
