Page 14 of Contested

For the first few strides, he had it. Longer legs, stronger push, more power through the ground. He could feel Parker fall away almost immediately on the outside, but Sebastian stayed close. Marcos kept his eyes forward, arms pumping, breath sharp in his chest as he tried to stretch the gap.

Then Sebastian found his footing. He lifted cleaner through his knees, his stride opened more, and then he was at Marcos’ shoulder.

The finish rushed toward them.

They crossed almost together.

Marcos took another few steps to slow, turning sharply. Sebastian had one hand on his hip, chest rising and falling, eyes fixed on the assistant.

They checked the times, then called them out.

Sebastian had him by a fraction.

Sebastian’s smirk came slowly this time, and Marcos immediately wanted to slap it off him.

“Little legs, huh?” Sebastian asked.

Marcos rolled his neck. “You have less weight to carry.”

“You calling yourself fat?”

“Wha—no. I’m calling you small.”

“Not what I heard.” Sebastian’s smirk grew wider, and Marcos’ jaw flexed.

The need to wipe it off Sebastian’s face grew enough that he took a step closer before he thought better of it.

Sebastian didn’t move back.

That was the irritating thing about Sebastian. He never backed down.

A second whistle called them into another round, and Marcos turned away first, dragging air into his lungs as he headed back to the start.

They ran again. Marcos won that one.

He knew it the moment he crossed the finish line, but didn’t grin until the assistant called it out, then he let it come across his face wide and full.

Sebastian worked his jaw.

On the third sprint, both of them went too hard. Marcos’ mind was no longer on running and only on beating Sebastian.

The whistle blew, and they took off.

Sebastian got the cleaner start this time, body snapping forward, boots tearing into the grass. Marcos recovered by the fourth step and drove after him, shoulder level with Sebastian’s as they hit the middle of the strip. The finish line sat ahead, too close. Marcos pushed and felt his legs answer, but still felt Sebastian beside him.

They crossed the line hard enough that neither of them slowed down properly. Marcos stumbled when he tried to, and Sebastian’s shoulder clipped his. It wasn’t a lot, but it was enough for Marcos to react before his brain caught up.

He shoved him.

Sebastian shoved back.

“Enough.” Jacob’s voice cut in before either of them could make another move, the word cracking across the grass.

Marcos stepped back instantly. Sebastian did the same, breathing hard, eyes still locked on Marcos.

Jacob walked toward them with the kind of pace that made several nearby players pretend they were not watching. His gaze landed on Marcos first, then Sebastian.

“Do I need to separate you two like you’re in fucking school?”