Damon crouched slightly, arms out for balance. Ivan mirrored him, his gaze locked and unblinking.
The Russian's wet shirt clung to his torso, muscles tense but still. Damon could hear José behind him: "Stay low, coach. He's all upper body."
They stepped forward at the same time, the beam wobbling under the added weight.
The water below was dark, dotted with little ripples from the wind. A fall here wouldn't just cost pride, it would feel like hitting ice.
The first clash was all pressure. Damon shoved forward with his shoulder, testing Ivan's balance.
Ivan gave ground, then snapped back with a counter-push that made the beam dip under Damon's right foot.
Damon adjusted, knees bending, arms flaring for stability.
From the sidelines, Chase was yelling, "C'mon, Ivan! He's soft!"
Ronny fired back instantly, "Shut your mouth, Dunham! You couldn't balance on a bar stool!"
