Page 1 of My Trainer Neighbor
Chapter One
Nicole
Music blasted through my bedroom wall at 5:03 AM.
I lay in the dark, staring at the ceiling while what sounded like an entire gym session kicked off next door.Weights clanked.Someone grunted through what I could only assume was some sort of CrossFit torture routine.
You've got to be kidding me.
I'd been up until two reviewing the Carleton campaign pitch—the presentation that could make or break my shot at senior VP, the position I'd spent eighteen months chasing.I needed to be sharp in four hours, not exhausted and homicidal.
The music got louder.
I threw off the covers and reached for the silk robe draped over my chair.This had gone on long enough.For the past week, since the moving truck showed up next door, I'd endured mysterious banging, drilling at ungodly hours, and what sounded like furniture being rearranged every night around midnight.
Done.I was done.
My bare feet crossed the hardwood to my front door.The hallway stretched empty, bathed in soft building lights.I marched to 4B and knocked.
Nothing.
I knocked harder.The music was loud enough he probably couldn't hear anything else.What kind of person worked out at five in the morning with music that could wake the entire floor?
The same kind who moved furniture at midnight and clearly had never heard of common courtesy.
The music cut off abruptly.Heavy footsteps approached.
The door swung open, and my brain short-circuited.
The man standing in front of me was unfairly attractive.Tall—six-four at least—with long dark hair pulled back in a messy bun that looked annoyingly good instead of sloppy.His bare chest glistened with sweat, covered in an intricate sleeve of tattoos that disappeared into low-slung gray sweatpants.
His eyes though.Green.Intense.Currently looking at me like I was an amusing interruption to his morning routine.
"Can I help you?"His voice came out rough from exertion, carrying a hint of Boston or maybe New York.
I realized I was staring.At his chest.At how those sweatpants hung on his hips, revealing the V of muscle that disappeared below the waistband.
Get it together, Nicole.
"Yes, actually."I crossed my arms over my chest, suddenly aware I was standing in a condo hallway wearing nothing but a silk nightgown and robe."It's five in the morning."
He leaned against the doorframe, unbothered by his state of undress or the fact that he'd clearly woken me up."Yeah.Problem?"
His casual arrogance made me want to throw something at him."Some of us are trying to sleep.Some of us have presentations today and need to function like actual humans, not zombies kept awake by—" I gestured at the space behind him, which I could now see was set up like a home gym.Free weights, a bench, some complicated-looking machine."—whatever that is."
His lips curved into what I'm sure he thought was a charming smile."That's called exercise, sweetheart.I could show you a thing or two if you’re interested."
Heat flashed through me."Excuse me?"
"I'm just saying."His gaze swept over me—my fitted nightgown, my hair that was probably sticking up at odd angles, my bare legs."You look like you could use some stress relief.I'm a professional trainer.I promise to take it easy on you.Unless you like it hard."He grinned at me.
I hated that my lady parts jumped up and said hooray!
No.No.Down girl.
The audacity.Here I was, asking him to be a considerate neighbor, and he was critiquing my fitness level like some sort of sleazy pickup line.
"Let me be clear."I dropped my voice to the tone I used in boardroom negotiations when someone tried to lowball me."I don't need stress relief.I don't need exercise tips from a stranger.What I need is for you to respect the fact that other people live in this building and maybe keep your workout routine to reasonable hours."
