“We do sets of thirty push-ups,” Logan said.
“Thirty?” Toni cringed. Her arms and chest were aching just thinking about it. She doubted she could do three.
Jace nodded without batting an eyelash, and flexed his fingers.
“On the second set, you call out a modification for the next thirty. I call out a modification for the third set, you for the fourth, and so on until one of us collapses. Or rather, until you collapse.”
“Got it,” Jace said. He dropped to the mat without hesitation.
“Which one of you dumbasses can count to thirty?” Logan asked.
“I think I can count that high,” Sed volunteered with a crooked grin.
Logan got into position on the mat parallel to Jace. Sed counted out reps while the two men completed push-up after push-up in perfect form. Strangely, the guy most into the competition was Kirk, and he was obviously rooting for the opposing team.
“Hey, Logan,” Kirk said, “don’t you know smaller guys are better at this sort of thing? They don’t have to push up as much weight.”
“That’s why”—Logan lowered his body to the floor—“I picked”—up again—“him.” And down. “No one”—up—“ever really”—down—“challenges me.”
“One of these days, someone is going to knock you down a peg,” Kirk said.
“Not today.”
Neither man had broken into a sweat when Sed reached thirty and Jace called out, “Right leg up.”
“Too easy,” Logan claimed as he lifted his right foot off the floor and continued into the next thirty push-ups.
Toni squatted down in front of Logan so she could get a close-up of his face. A bead of sweat ran down the side of his neck. The muscles of his arms, shoulders, and chest strained with each repetition. Toni had never realized how beautiful a push-up could be. She was pretty sure she was sweating far more than Logan was. She wasn’t sure if this footage would make it into the book, but she was positive she’d review it regularly.
Sed reached thirty again. Toni peeked at Jace, who had sweat dripping onto the mat beneath him, but still wore the same focused and determined look on his face as when he’d accepted Logan’s challenge. Toni decided that Logan had indeed chosen a worthy opponent and might soon find himself knocked down a peg. At least she thought that until Logan called out his modification.
“Clap between reps.”
“Ah, shit,” Jace muttered. But when Sed started back at one, he pushed off the mat with the force necessary to lift his hands high enough off the ground to clap.
Toni gawked at them, vaguely aware that the gym had fallen silent as everyone had stopped their own workouts to watch the competition. As they were all cheering for Jace, Toni shouted, “Come on, Logan! You can do it!”
He tilted his head to offer her a smile and a wink before turning his concentration back to his task.
Both men were laboring hard by the time they reached thirty. Logan nodded in Jace’s direction. “Impressive,” he said. “Most guys kiss the mat by the fifth rep.”
“I always do,” Steve said and laughed.
“So what’s next?” Logan asked.
Jace could scarcely catch his breath enough to say. “One arm.”
“Left or right?” Logan shifted from his left arm to his right arm without wavering.
“Right,” Jace said.
“But that’s the arm you were shot in,” Sed protested. “Are you sure you’re up for that?”
Toni sought and found the bullet scars on Jace’s right shoulder and arm. She snapped a couple of pictures, making a mental note to find out what had happened to him.
“Nope,” Jace said. He lifted his left hand off the floor. “Gonna try it anyway.”
“Someone needs to shoot Logan so it’s a fair match,” Steve said.
Logan lifted his left hand off the mat and gave Steve the middle finger. He kept that finger extended through the entire thirty, one-armed push-ups. Jace’s arm was shaking so bad by the final repetition that Toni was sure it would give out on him, but he managed to keep going. His relief was tangible when he was finally able to set his left hand back on the mat.
Everyone cheered and clapped for him, even Toni.
“Are you done?” Logan asked. Sweat glistened on his bronze skin and wetted the golden curls around his face and neck.
“Not yet,” Jace said.
“Well, that about kicked my ass,” Logan said, shifting to his left arm and rotating his right. “Time for a set of girl push-ups.”
Jace laughed and set his knees down on the mat. Toni wondered if Logan had picked so-called girl push-ups more for Jace’s benefit than his own. She was pretty sure Jace’s right arm had been worked to the point of exhaustion and one more clap repetition would have flattened him, resulting in a sure win for Logan.
After thirty more reps, which everyone in the room counted off, Jace said, “Feet on a bench.”
“You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?” Logan said. “It’s not bad enough that you tried to take my job.”
Take his job? As bassist of Exodus End? Surely Logan was joking.
The two bassists pulled their mats across the room to a bench and got into position with both feet on the seat and their hands on the mat.
“Just making sure you get in a good workout,” Jace said with a devilish grin.
After several reps, it was apparent that Jace’s right arm was physically incapable of contracting. Toni had never in her life worked out to exhaustion. She tended to stop when she got a little winded. Jace shifted to put all his weight on his left arm. In a few reps, that arm was shaking too. Logan was showing signs of fatigue as well. In any case, he was too tired to talk smack and had his full concentration on lowering and raising his body.
Jace released a growl of exertion, which gave him the perseverance to do one more push-up before he ended up sprawled face down and panting on the mat. Logan did a final rep to claim his victory and collapsed beside Jace. Both men laughed as they tried—and failed—to get off the floor.
“I’m tempted to call that a draw,” Logan said, his voice muffled since his face was pressed into the mat.
“Don’t you dare,” Jace said, between gasps for air. “I’ll get you next time.”
“Are you okay?” Toni asked as Logan lay on the floor long after everyone had returned to their respective workouts.
“I can’t move my arms,” he said.