"Damn, This I’ve got to see.” Derek made a show of peeling off his shoes and headed toward the kitchen. “But don’t start yet,” he called over his shoulder, voice dripping sarcasm. “Let me grab a beer and change first—I can’t miss the debut of my fitness queen.”
Kitty took a breath. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her crack. Unrolling her mat with a deliberate flourish, she planted herself in front of her laptop. I can do this. Easy shit. Just move. Breathe. Stretch. Get abs like those webcam queens… eventually.
The chirpy instructor on the video was immediately unbearable. “Okay, guys! Let’s get those cores burning! You’re gonna feel so powerful when we’re done!”
Kitty grit her teeth and started crunching, her feet lifting from the mat. Two reps in, her abs screamed like she’d lit them on fire. “Oh, f—,” she hissed, collapsing back. The instructor was already onto planks.