Page 85 of Your Pace or Mine
Jamie couldn’t keep up his speed from before, though, and he soon waved Chi on for what he was sure was going to be a great race.
He lobbed along slowly, feeling like he was hanging on for dear life as more and more people in absurd fancy dress passed him. He was pretty sure he’d just seen someone go by juggling a football. He couldn’t possibly be doing the whole marathon like that, right?
As a runner dressed as the rabbit from Alice in Wonderland ran past, Jamie tried to speed up a bit more. He wanted to prove to himself that he could do this, and he couldn’t tolerate being slower than someone in oversized bunny slippers. It felt like everyone was doing better than him, though. All the surrounding runners looked calm and collected, while he was feeling both emotionally and physically exhausted.
It was too much.
He couldn’t do this anymore.
Jamie’s knee protested almost as much as his brain against the relentless run.
He needed to stop.
Chapter 22
Darius
The London Marathon
Darius had spent most of his time at the start line watching for Jamie. He’d spotted Jacob in the corral and gave him a quick nod, which was returned with an enthusiastic thumbs up, and then they were off.
Darius knew this route like the back of his hand, but it was different with so many people around. A completely different kind of energy was surrounding him than he was used to, but he couldn’t help but feel he was just going through the motions. People were friendly, they chatted as they ran, just soaking in the atmosphere, but all he could think about was Jamie. How was he doing? Had he really dropped out? Would he even ever have a chance to see him again? London wasn’t exactly hard to disappear in if you wanted to.
He didn’t know how to fix things between them. For all that Jamie had hidden things from him over the past few months, Darius knew he was the one who had ruined things. He hoped, deep down, that the damage wasn’t irreparable, but it sure as hell felt that way right now.
Darius maintained his pace, because that was his job today. The problem with running so much slower than his usual pace was that it gave him far too much time to think, and though his therapist may have disagreed, the last thing he needed was time for reflection. So, though his pace carried on, steady, reliable, his thoughts were anything but.
Jamie. God, it was ridiculous, wasn’t it? He’d fallen so hard. Chi was right; he’d been falling for Jamie from the day they met. He’d just been pretending to pretend all along.
Maybe there was something there, but what could Darius even offer him? A failed runner who peaked too soon? A PR disaster hanging over his head that had dragged Jamie’s life into the spotlight? He wasn’t exactly a catch.
The thought made his chest tighten, and he shoved it aside, letting his mind drift to safer territory, his career, though that wasn’t much better, really. He had thought he was in his prime. He ran a bloody 2:05:37 in Chicago for fuck’s sake. So, excuse him for expecting a good year.
God, this marathon was feeling especially long.
He was proud of his plan for the youth centre, but it wasn’t going to magically fix his life. He still didn’t have Jamie or the Olympics.
Lost in thought, Darius realised too late that he’d started running faster. The beep of his watch snapped him back to reality, and he grimaced. Slowing his pace, he chastised himself silently. The surrounding runners didn’t need him dashing off and messing up their rhythm.
By the time he’d crossed Tower Bridge at the half-marathon mark, he realised there was nothing in his life he wanted more than Jamie, not Anders’s approval, not the Olympics. Just the man who had pushed his way into his life with his cheeky grin and disarming charm.
At the seventeenth mile, as they rounded the corner at Mudchute to head away from the Thames, the spectators had dramatically thinned. As if summoned by Darius’s melancholy thoughts, he spotted a head of blonde curls up ahead. Jamie was sitting on the kerb.
Moving completely on instinct, Darius lowered his pacing flag. The handful of runners that had stuck close to him looked on in askance.
“Jacob,” he shouted over the din of trainers hitting the ground around them. Over to his left, Jacob turned and jogged over to Darius. “I need to pull out. Can you get these guys over the line?”
Jacob nodded and clapped him on the shoulder. “You got it, mate.”
With little time for questions, Jacob took over. “All right, 3:30 group, let’s get a hustle on. Nearly at mile 18, that’s the real halfway point.”
Darius shot a grateful smile at his back before running over to Jamie, who was still sitting, head in hands and shoes off. He was a mess, but seeing him still made Darius’s heart skip a beat. He crouched down next to him.
“What are you doing?” Jamie bit out. “Shouldn’t you just leave me to my misery?” he asked, impressively aggressive despite the tears and dejected look on his face.
Darius sighed. “Jamie, let me help, okay? You can shout at me after we get you back on the road.”
Grateful that Jamie didn’t push him away, he reached forward to brush a curl off his forehead. “Is it your knee again?”
