Page 90 of Your Pace or Mine
They ran past the Houses of Parliament together and past Buckingham Palace, pieces of history passing by barely noticed. Just when Jamie was sure his body would give out, they were in the final stretch, running towards the finish line on the Mall. He gave it everything he had for those final minutes. His mind blanked out as his body took over. The only thought looping in his head was a single-minded fixation on getting over that damn line. He crossed, nearly collapsing as the announcer called out his name and finish time.
The finish line was mad. People just kept handing him things. His medal went around his neck right away, but then his arms filled up with a pack of cupcakes, protein bars, packets of electrolytes and gels, and finally, a banana.
His hands were ridiculously full, and he kept dropping things while being ushered forward to make room for the runners finishing behind him. You’d think one of the goodies could have been a tote bag or something.
Sharp pain had unsurprisingly erupted in his knee and hip, and he grimaced as he continued to walk through the throng. Darius took some of the random items from his hands so he could focus on moving forward, but there was something important he had to do. Jamie pulled his phone out and snapped a selfie as he planted a kiss on Darius’s cheek. His free arm wrapped around Darius’s neck as he checked the photo. They looked happy, like they fit perfectly together—he wanted to bottle the feeling and keep it forever.
Chapter 24
Darius
The Finish Line
Their agreement to try again had Darius’s heart pounding harder than any race he’d ever run.
“God, is this what they mean when they talk about a runner’s high?” Jamie asked. “‘Cause I feel extremely buzzed, kind of horny, and also like I might puke on you.”
“Please don’t,” Darius replied.
He was a little concerned by how much Jamie was favouring his right side, so once they got through the excitement at the finish, he tried to steer him towards the first aid tent.
“Darius, I’m fine, I promise,” Jamie protested.
“You’re not fine, Jamie. Sebastien must be around here somewhere. I’ll get him to take a look and…”
Jamie was rooted to the spot, though, with a soft smile on his face. “Darius,” he whispered. “I did it.”
In that moment, everything slowed around him. He could see the reporters milling around the finish line and hear the crowd cheering as runners continued to cross. Cameras clicked and smartphones waved around them, but it all stilled as he gently turned back to Jamie. The look of awe on his face was humbling,and Darius was so bloody proud of him. He’d pushed through, even when he’d wanted to give up.
Darius pulled him into a kiss, and time quite literally stood still.
Darius held Jamie, sinking against him as his lips parted and their tongues met.
It was perfection.
Until Jamie’s legs caved beneath him, and they stumbled.
“That’s it. We’re going to the aid tent.”
It was a testament to the pain he must have been in that Jamie didn’t protest at all.
Darius steered them towards the elites’ tent rather than the standard first aid, telling himself there was better equipment there. Still, a tiny voice in the back of his head was also reminding him there was more privacy.
“Darius, hey! Good to see you.” Sebastien was manning the tent, likely roped into it by his husband, who worked for the events team. “And Jamie, congrats on the marathon!” he exclaimed. “How’s the application going? Do you want me to take a look at it?”
Darius had no idea what Sebastien was talking about, but Jamie was replying, thanking him for the offer.
“Application for what?” Darius interjected.
Jamie turned to him with a full wattage grin on his face.“I’m going back to university, or well, I’m applying. To study physiotherapy.”
“Jamie, that’s amazing,” Darius replied.
“I might not get in.”
Sebastien’s scoff echoed Darius’s, reminding him they still had company. Someday, Darius was determined Jamie would see just how exceptional he truly was.
Sebastien’s voice cut in. “I’m sorry about all the shit people have been saying lately. That must be hard—if you ever need anything—“
