Declan fell quickly into the exercises, enjoying the familiar burn. It was simple enough, but it had been a long time since he’d competed with anyone, and Oliver was fast.
‘Oh, come on, Decs,’ Jack shouted. ‘You can do better than that! Chin up, mate.’
Declan gave him the finger mid-squat. ‘Why are you so good at these?’ he shot at Oliver.
Oliver laughed. ‘Sometimes at rehearsal, they’ll make us carry the girls on our shoulders. This is nothing.’
‘All right, stop!’ Zoë called out. ‘Two breaths, then start the kick-ups… Go!’
Oliver was killing him, his long legs kicking high into the air in perfectly straight lines. Declan, who struggled with tighthamstrings, was having difficulty getting his leg levelled above his hips.
‘This is embarrassing, King,’ Holly called. ‘I thought you were a pro.’
‘I’m not akickboxer,’ Declan said between breaths. ‘I could still knock any of you clean out, so watch it.’ None of them appeared to be sufficiently intimidated by his threat.
‘Last ten seconds,’ Zoë called out, chipper. ‘Babes, keep your back straight, you don’t want to hurt yourself.’
Owen and Jack cackled, and Declan squashed down murderous thoughts.
‘Okay, stop.’
Declan sucked in a breath. He had thought he’d been staying in pretty good shape, but he was now mentally restructuring his workout routine to make up for the complete ass-kicking he was currently experiencing.
‘Ready for burpees?’ Zoë asked. ‘Go!’
Finally, Declan had the upper hand against Oliver, and he felt giddy watching him struggle.
‘Come on, Oliver,’ Niall called. ‘You’ve got this, boyo!’
‘Thirty seconds,’ Zoë said, pacing between the two men. ‘Nice, Decs!’
‘About time you caught up,’ Oliver said, grinning. Declan grunted, deciding beating him would be the best comeback.
‘Okay, finished,’ Zoë said. ‘Now the plank.’
Declan and Oliver fell to the ground, facing each other and pushing onto their forearms. ‘Butts down, laddies,’ Owen called, and Declan could’ve hit him. There was a dull ache in his wrist from the strain.
‘Thirty seconds left,’ Zoë called. ‘Good form, both of you.’ Declan tried to focus on his breathing and keeping his core tight.
‘And… done,’ Zoë said, blowing her whistle. Declan’s muscles screamed at him to release the position, but Oliver was still holding himself up.
‘All right, all right,’ Jack shouted. ‘Stop showing off, you two. Some of us are not Greek gods.’
Oliver huffed out a laugh but didn’t concede, so neither could Declan. The two boys stared at each other, their bodies shaking with effort. A bead of sweat fell from Oliver’s brow and Declan traced it as it slid down his cheekbone before getting caught between his lips. Declan stared at his mouth, feeling a burning in his core he desperately tried to convince himself was part of the workout.
‘Jesus,’ Holly said, exasperated. ‘Why don’t you both whip it out and spare us the dramatics?’
Declan adjusted his position to get a better grip on the mat, willing Oliver to concede, but something in his wrist gave and a searing pain shot up his arm. He fell to the ground, Oliver following him a split second later.
Niall and Owen ran over and grabbed Oliver, ceremoniously tossing him into the shallow end of the pool. He sprang up a moment later, shaking his hair out.
Declan got up to offer him a hand. ‘Good one, yeah?’
Oliver grinned, the sunlight making him so brilliant it almost hurt to look at him. He reached out and took Declan’s hand, a gleam in his eyes.
‘Don’t—’ Declan started, but Oliver was already pulling him into the pool, the cool water soothing his overheated body.
‘Get out!’ Paige barked. ‘You’re still mic’d.’
