“Okay.” Ducky nodded one time before leaving him. His brother only had about ten steps to take to be back in front of his computer.
Skye’s image split the mirror. She slowly pedaled her bike, looking perfect in their extremely limited work-out merchandise. Adding Skye to their team had turned out to be a hugely successful decision. She had a natural ability to draw people to her. She was pretty with a fun personality and an encouraging way about her. Under her tutelage, and with enough hard work, anyone’s physical fitness challenges could be conquered. Men and women alike were drawn to her sweet way of getting the best out of people.
“Three minutes,” she said with a giant grin. “We’re gonna do great tonight.”
“Keep it comfortable, but clutch,” Donny instructed.
“Of course. Ducky explained the new leaderboard. I’m just waiting to begin.” Skye’s bright smile spread, and she clapped her hands together in anticipation.
Since their four mirrors were designed as trainer mirrors, Skye had access to the information of every biker who signed on. She could see their profile names and statistical information. With tonight’s upgrades to the social site, the participants should now be able to show themselves to the rest of the class if they chose to.
They had so many plans.
Please let this work out.
“Just be yourself and you got this,” Dallas encouraged, his true worries completely hidden from the others now.
The timer alarm buzzed at the one-minute mark.
“Remember, my goal’s to be the leader in the class. Push everyone to try and beat me until about the two-minute mark, then I’ll back off. Let the others win,” Dallas explained as if Skye didn’t already know the plan.
“Your profile name says Biker101. I’ll call attention to you.” Skye stretched, extending her body, pushing her arms in the air before she lowered into position.
“Perfect. Donny, you’re Chaos89,” Ducky added. “He’s gonna stick to the moderate level cyclists.”
“Forty-five seconds. Ducky, you ready?” Skye asked.
“Yup.” The simple confident word made Dallas smile.
“Then let’s go.” Skye pedaled with a little more strength. She had ten seconds before her image went live to all the cyclists. “We got this. And I want a raise.”
“You’ll be director of programs,” Donny said.
“Hey, that’s my position,” Dallas called out at the perfect diversion to get his head in the game.
“Then come get me,” Skye teased, giving him a wink.
She went live. The leaderboard showed almost five hundred bikers queued and ready to begin. He watched the participant numbers increase by the second.
Dallas tuned everything else out and got in the zone, following Skye’s directions.
=?=
“Omigod, why’re you doing this, Greer?” Kailey whined via the Zoom call she initiated ten or so minutes before the cycling class began. Greer paid her no attention as he ignored both the sweat pooling on his brow, dripping to his handlebars, and the acute burn seizing every muscle in his body.
When Greer added this interactive exercise box to his daily exercise regime, he had very little faith in the workout it would provide. Man, he’d been wrong.
They were thirty-five minutes into their forty-five-minute hard-core workout session with five minutes left to go before the cooldown phase. Greer’s muscles were on fire and hurt like he had never experienced in his life. Buckets of body sweat soaked his clothing and dripped to the tile floor below. The very essence of his competitive soul had exploded to new heights and refused to allow him to take second place in this competition.
“He’s got that look, babe,” Beau’s deep voice muttered.
Kailey and Beau, both lightweights by Greer’s estimation, had already thrown in the towel. Beau lasted a good twenty-five minutes before ducking out. Wimps.
Greer continued to ignore them both and did what he did best, pushed himself harder.
Four minutes to go.
He closed his eyes and panted, trying to fill his oxygen-deprived lungs as every muscle began its own form of mutiny.
“He’s got something to prove,” Beau explained.
“This isn’t about showing-up for Skye,” Kailey reflected, of course way off the mark.
“No. No person causes that look. He’s jonesing for the win,” Beau psychoanalyzed. If Greer’s eyes weren’t stinging from the deluge of sweat that dripped down his forehead, he might attempt to roll his eyes at his best friend and remind Beau that he was a surgeon, not a psychiatrist.
“Win what?” Kailey didn’t understand that sometimes just being number one in a hard-fought battle was enough to justify the sacrifice.
“Winning period, baby. Three minutes, buddy. You got this,” Beau encouraged.
Greer’s sweat-soaked focus willed the leaderboard to inch his score upward, knowing he was completely maxed out. His last-ditch effort was all he had to give as deep disdain swirled through his gut over Biker101. He hissed, “Fuck!”
“He’s good.” Greer instinctively knew Kailey’s praise wasn’t directed at him.
“Biker101’s killing it,” Beau added.
Both of his cheerleaders would get a good talking to once he found enough oxygen to breathe properly again.