Page 3 of My Trainer Neighbor
Too long.
Way too long.
Chapter Two
Shawn
Nicole.
Her name had been running through my head for three days straight, and I was starting to think I needed professional help.Or maybe just to get laid.It had been a while since I'd bothered with anything more than casual hookups, and my brain was clearly making more of our little hallway encounter than it deserved.
Except I kept thinking about how her silk robe had gaped slightly when she'd crossed her arms, giving me a glimpse of smooth skin and the curve of her breast.How her hair had been messed up from sleep, making her look younger and less controlled than the buttoned-up professional she obviously was during the day.
How her eyes had flashed with real fire when I'd suggested she try exercise.
Most women would have giggled or flirted back.Nicole had looked like she wanted to knee me in the balls.
I liked that about her.Probably more than I should.
I was loading plates onto the barbell for my Wednesday morning session when I heard her door slam.Five minutes later than usual, which meant my comment about her six-thirty routine had probably irritated her enough to throw off her schedule.
Good.Maybe that meant she was thinking about me too.
The thought made me grin as I settled under the bar for bench press.I'd lowered the music volume since our conversation, not because I gave a damn about her beauty sleep, but because I'd started listening for sounds from her apartment.The click of her heels as she got ready for work.The whir of what sounded like an expensive coffee machine.The slam of her door when she left.
Pathetic, really.I was thirty-two years old, not some teenager with a crush on the girl next door.
But there was something about Nicole that I kept coming back to.How she'd stood up to me in that hallway, chin raised and shoulders back, even though she was barely dressed and probably half my size.How she'd shut down my trainer offer like I'd suggested something obscene instead of offering to help her work off some obvious stress.
Most of the women I knew would have jumped at the chance to work out with me.Hell, half my female clients hired me as much for the eye candy as the training.But Nicole had acted like I'd insulted her intelligence.
Which, to be fair, I probably had.
I finished my set and sat up, grabbing the towel draped over the bench.Through the wall, I could hear the faint sounds of her morning routine.Shower running.Hair dryer.The muffled sound of what might have been a phone call.
She was probably getting ready for another twelve-hour day in some glass tower downtown, wearing one of those severe suits that cost more than most people made in a month.Sitting in meetings, crunching numbers, climbing whatever corporate ladder she'd set her sights on.
