“My legs are jelly.” Dallas registered the uncontrollable quiver in his thigh muscles. He spent hours a day working out. How was he already feeling this level of soreness?
“Wild_Rider’s competitive as hell. When he gets something in his head, he’s a force. Nothing gets in his way.” Skye gave a quick shake of her head, her ponytail bouncing as she grinned at some unknown thought. “Greer doubled the pace of the second and third riders. I’ve never seen him work this hard. He acts like our training sessions are brutal. I knew he lied. I bet he went nuts when you pulled back. He would never consider this a win.”
“Well, don’t tell him who Biker101 is. We could use his excitement,” Donny said. The cell phone clamped to his brother’s arm rang. He paused for the briefest of seconds, staring off in the distance. “It’s Cari. I’m gonna talk to her. She’s upset she couldn’t get out of work.” Donny didn’t wait for a response. His section in the mirror darkened, increasing the size of both Ducky and Skye’s images.
“I promise I won’t tell him. Greer’s been pushing to hook up. I think it might be time. He made the whole session better. He’s super gorgeous too. He looks like a Ken doll.” Her grin spread when she looked directly at Dallas and added, “But watching Dallas work so hard to keep that number one spot might’ve made my whole life better.” Skye could say whatever she wanted. Dallas knew when he stepped off this bike he’d most likely fall to the ground. What an unexpectedly intense workout.
“Wild_Rider came close to kicking his butt, and Dallas spends hours a day working out.” Dallas’s inner motivating voice really appreciated Ducky’s commentary much more than Skye’s. Ducky sounded in awe compared to Skye’s clearly teasing tone. “Chad’s calling!”
“So soon? No way!” Skye jumped off her bike and yelled to the mirror, “I’m coming over.”
“Dallas, go in there right now.” Donny’s voice startled him. He’d thought his brother had ended the session. Clearly, Donny had found a new function in their equipment if he could stay connected through audio only. “Don’t leave this to Ducky.”
He had no idea how effective he would be at talking business with anyone right now. He needed recovery time after such a devastating workout.
It didn’t really matter. Today had taught him that Ducky was the mastermind behind most of their accomplishments. His younger brother managed all their growth through social media while he continued to fine-tune BikeBro’s programming and edit every one of their YouTube videos. More importantly, Ducky had created their company-saving financial opportunity. Ducky wasn’t near as inept as Donny always implied.
Dallas resisted the urge to put Donny on blast. He’d pick his time to defend their younger brother. “I’ll call you when we hang up.”
Now all he had to do was get off the bike. Dallas carefully lowered a foot to the floor, encouraged when it held some of his body weight. “Dallas! His father wants to talk to you.”
Oh hell, he wasn’t ready.
Dallas took his water bottle, tossing back his head to squirt a good mouthful of water inside then hooked his other leg over the bike. The few steps he took toward the living room were shaky, but he found his land legs as he went over the essential talking points in his head.
What were their goals?
Going nationwide.
Get the mirror patented.
Cash. They needed revenue. The most important part to all this.
When he turned the corner into the living room, his apartment door flew open. Skye lived in their complex, two buildings over. Ducky’s dual monitors were filled with Dylan Reeves and Tristan Wilder on one side. They were local celebrities in the DFW area, he’d know their faces anywhere. The other monitor showed a younger version of Dylan, chatting quietly with Ducky.
Dallas grabbed a towel off a folded stack of clean laundry sitting on the countertop and ran it over his face and short wet hair.
“I told them you were the lead rider and exhausted,” Ducky said, eagerly looking over his shoulder at Dallas. Ducky pushed out an old office chair, another dumpster-dive treasure they’d found last year. Skye grabbed a chair from the kitchen table and came toward them.
“Who was number two? You two had a strong competition going,” Dylan asked, looking directly at Dallas.
“He’s a corporate account of ours with a wild competitive streak,” Skye answered for him. She lifted a hand and waved at all three men. “I’m Skye. I work for them.”
“I was watching the active members and the chatter going on. Even those not participating were absorbed in watching you two through the leaderboard. It was a great class,” Tristan complimented. If his and Dylan’s rumpled, sweat-soaked appearance was any indicator, they too had been active members of the class.