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“Let’s start in with drills, then,” I said. “Pivots.”
Amelia rolled her eyes. “Oh, wow, I’ve never heard of those before.”
“Shush. I’m assessing your form.”
She winked at me before taking a step back into the open space. “You can assess my form all you like.”
Good lord. I almost swallowed my tongue at the effortless sensuality dripping from her tone, the confidence she hadn’t had when she’d just been a kid.
“Get into stance,” I said, placing my hands on my hips. Years of working as a trainer kicked in, even though numbness trickled through me in the wake of the intense emotions surfacing. I could run a fighter through drills in my sleep.
Amelia settled into a bend at her knees, her shoulders braced but not tense.
“One, two, pivot,” I called.
She followed the beats with grace, the motions holding all the fluidity I needed to see to back up her claims.
“Two, three, pivot.”
Just like before, she completed the turns as if she’d done these a million times. Amelia executed the movement from the hips, popping out the one-two punch with a smoothness that didn’t need correction. Muscle memory was a helluva thing, and after training fighters as long as I had, I could tell who’d put the time and work in and who hadn’t. She must’ve put in plenty of both to be able to glide with that ease.
“Give me fifty.” I crossed my arms and widened my stance.
I didn’t miss the flare of heat in her eyes. However, all ideas of sleeping with her had gotten tossed out the window the second I realized who she was. Too bad my body hadn’t taken the memo.
She spun from one spot to the next, her muscles flexing with the motions, her ponytail whipping behind her. The determination in her brow was clear, the focused way she threw herself into something as simple as pivots. I kept my distance, though, in pure evaluation mode. Once she hit the fifty, I ran her through a few more basic drills, checking for any weaknesses, any areas for development for future sessions. She dragged with her feet a bit on kicks, so we’d have to be honing on that, and her right shoulder dipped the slightest bit with her throws.
The time positively raced.
Even though I evaluated her movements, my eyes had a mind of their own, roving over her sinuous curves, the sweat dotting her brow and trickling down her chest. The black-and-grayscale tattoos weaving around her biceps were eye-catching, and I kept trying to sneak a full glimpse.
She didn’t do anything to discourage me from looking either. Every time we’d pause to switch drills, she’d twirl the end of her ponytail and flutter her lashes, giving perfect “fuck me” eyes. And goddamn, my knees went weak.
My gaze flicked between her and the clock on the wall as she finished the latest drill. We were running low on time. My next client would be coming in soon. Part of me was desperate for the chance to breathe again, to even start to process what had happened today, but another part of me didn’t want this to end.
“All right, that’s a wrap,” I said as she finished. Her shoulders heaved, and strands of her hair pasted against her temples. “My next client’s arriving any minute, but I got plenty of information to work with for our sessions. We’ll switch to a high-intensity workout tomorrow. Let me walk you to the front—unless you want to hit the locker rooms?”
“Nah, I like being sweaty,” she said, her voice throaty. The urge to spread her out over the nearest flat surface and dive between her legs burst inside me, but I shoved those filthy thoughts aside. Fuck, what was wrong with me? Amelia and Nina might not even be friends anymore, but that didn’t mean hooking up with someone from my past was a good idea.
I didn’t miss the way her gaze kept sneaking to mine—our eyes met again and again. Doubtless she had questions, but unluckily for her, I refused to answer them. We reached the front door, feet away from where Emmit stood behind the desk. A gravitational pull existed between us, as if neither of us was willing to break it.
I bit back my swear and pushed forward. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Amelia.”
“Ames,” she corrected me as she swept past me, her fingers trailing over the metal knob of the door. She glanced back, those blue eyes fiercely intense. “Hope you can handle me.” With that, she opened the door and stepped outside.
Fuck me.
This seemed like the worst idea on the planet. However, if she could keep this relationship professional, I could be her trainer. But that included no sharing of the past. No meeting up outside of work.
And definitely no fucking the client.
Chapter Three
Ames
The emptiness in my apartment was something I still hadn’t adjusted to.
Even before I dated Allie, I always had a roommate at the very least, but now…it was just me, myself, and I in this shoebox of a place. A studio had been what I could afford in the city. I liked cute shit, so the place looked like Hello Kitty had vomited all over it, with my Sanrio trinkets and plushies taking up real estate. Since I wasn’t sharing the space, I didn’t have to worry about what anyone else thought about my loud decorating choices.
