The next morning, Elliot trained alongside the rest of the team. He felt good. Not back to where he’d been before London, but he was feeling good enough that the fact that he wouldn’t be racing here was starting to sting.
Jackson was in incredible form. Not only was he at his absolute physical peak, but he seemed to light up every space he walked into. Cameras caught him mid-laugh, and other athletes were drawn into his orbit. Elliot couldn’t look away, couldn’t stop the pride that swelled in his chest every time he saw Jackson pose for a photo. Because Jackson Jennings was his.
He tried not to let his jealousy encroach on the joy, but it was hard to keep it at bay. Elliot hated himself for it. Hated the twist in his stomach when he saw Jackson’s smile burn bright for everyone else. Hated that he couldn’t swoop in and declare their relationship for all the world to see. Elliot wondered if he’d ever be able to do it. If they could ever be everything Jackson wanted them to be.
Stefan was there, in the village, as were many of the athletes they’d met at camp, but Jackson avoided them, just nodding hello when they passed in the corridors. Elliot knew it was for his benefit, and he was grateful for it—he didn’t think he could standto see anyone flirt with Jackson without turning completely feral.
In an effort to calm the jealousy burning in his gut, Elliot watched Chris. He was jittery, and Elliot couldn’t help where his brain immediately went at the sight. His father had all but confirmed what Chris had been doing before London, but surely he wouldn’t risk anything now.
When Elliot asked how he was, Chris brushed him off with easy grins that didn’t reach his eyes. “Nerves,” he said. But Elliot wasn’t stupid. The knowledge sat in Elliot’s gut like lead. He didn’t say anything—didn’t know if hecould. What if he was wrong? It would look like he was trying to push his way in, to take Chris’s spot. He wondered at Anders’s insistence on naming him as an alternate even after he knew Jackson would make it. Wondered if it pointed to suspicions about Chris, or if he really was just covering all his bases.
Chapter 30
Jackson
The Olympic Village, 2 days to the Olympic Marathon
The actual fucking Olympics. Jackson was riding a high from the second they stepped off the plane, and knowing that Elliot, Beth, and his parents would be there to watch him race, he felt invincible.
They were staying off their feet as much as possible. A couple of short shakeout runs to keep their conditioning up was the extent of their training. It was a fine balance to hit the taper right for a race this important. It was alright rooming with Darius, and nice to have the time to hang out with his friend, but honestly, it felt like whenever he wasn’t meditating or going through some weird agility sequence, he was on calls with Jamie. Jackson couldn’t help but wish he could swap with Green to stay with Elliot, though they’d likely never leave the room.
Jackson was trudging down the corridor with sandwiches he’d picked up for the four of them from the canteen when he spotted Stefan a few steps ahead. Anger flared in him. He hated that Stefan’s suggestive posting had hurt Elliot. If the two of them hadn’t drastically improved their communication, that could have been what stopped them from ever coming back to eachother, and Jackson would never have known why. Confrontation wasn’t something he wanted to get into in the middle of the village—you never knew how people would interpret things—so he just turned around and walked the other way.
“Jennings,” Stefan shouted after him, clearly having seen him. It would have been best to turn back, but something in Jackson took over, and he darted down the corridor until he came to the apartment and pushed inside.
“Did they have chicken Caesar?” Elliot asked from where he was sprawled out on the sofa. He was reading a paperback, those reading glasses Jackson loved so much perched on the end of his nose.
“You’re killing me, Owens,” Jackson groaned as he tossed his boyfriend the requested wrap and flopped down heavily next to him.
“All part of my super-secret plan to take your spot,” Elliot replied.
Jackson leaned over to press a kiss to his jaw. “You want another shot at trying to break me?”
“Green’s just in the shower. Keep your hands to yourself,” Elliot replied.
The water switched off. “Yeah, and he can hear every fucking sound. These walls are paper thin, so don’t even think about it,” Chris shouted from the bathroom. He was laughing as he exited, drying his hair roughly with one of the standard-issue towels.
“Darius around?” Jackson asked.
Elliot shook his head. “Physio, I think,” he replied, returning to his book as Jackson stretched out, placing his feet in Elliot’s lap.
A knock sounded sharply at their door, causing Elliot to finally give up and put his book down on the side table with a deep sigh.
“I got it,” Jackson said as he bounded over to the door. On the other side of it was Stefan.
“Hi,” he said. “Can we speak for a moment?”
He’d been caught. The confrontation he’d been trying to avoid, whether for Elliot’s benefit or his own, wasn’t going anywhere, and Stefan needed to know that what he’d done wasn’t okay.
“It’s just it feels like you’ve been avoiding me.”
There was a snort from inside the room. Jackson was pretty sure Elliot wouldn’t find this funny, so it must have been Green.
Jackson crossed his arms. “I have been avoiding you.”
“Why? I thought we were friends.”
Jackson arched a brow. “Oh, do friends post pictures of each other implying they’re hooking up, upsetting the partner of said friend so much that it causes extreme stress and fucks with their athletic performance right before the fucking Olympics?” he asked. “Is that a thing friends do?”
