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Lydia scowled. They hadn’t been working together long, but Luke was already starting to pick up on some of the little tells Lydia had when she was nervous or anxious: that nose wrinkle, the self-deprecating hum in the back of her throat. This wasn’t really about burpees. This was about starting something new. He could tell she hated the idea of people watching her trying and failing at something. Of making a fool of herself. Of not being good enough. “You know there’s no right way to go about this? You just learn and grow and get better with every training session.”
“Try telling me that on the weekend we’re running ten miles,” Lydia said.
“Don’t think about that now. Just focus onthisrun. On the next step you have to take. And don’t hold your breath,” he reminded her, knowing she’d end up with a cramp before they even finished the first mile.
“Who invented burpees anyway?” she muttered.
“I don’t know.”
“Because they clearly didn’t have a pair of these,” she said, gesturing to her chest. “If I give these things too much velocity we’re both gonna be in trouble.”
“Let’s just focus on the path ahead, okay? Focus on your breathing.”
She smirked. “Why? What’s wrong with our conversation?”
“Besides the fact we’re emphatically talking about your breasts?” He knew she flirted when she needed a distraction, and yet his cheeks still burned as he attempted to look anywhere else.
Her delicate brow arched to a perfect point. “Do you have a problem with that?”
Luke snorted. She was being a little minx, but he wasn’t going to fall for her trap. Things were different from last week when she’d crashed into him with her coffee. Now she was his client. That small concession that he’d found her attractive in their first session together was out of character for him. There was a certain amount of professional decorum he had to maintain. He didn’t need to be thinking about the way her pouty lips puckered when she was annoyed with him, or how the red strands in her strawberry blond hair were more vibrant in the sunlight, or the way her activewear hugged her curves.
Lydia was a gorgeous woman. He’d be telling a bold-faced lie to deny that.A gorgeous woman who’s off-limits, he reminded himself. Of course, he’d trained attractive people before. The gym was filled with attractive people. But there was just something about Lydia—her bold sense of humor, her constant teasing, her personality—that was drawing him in. And that was a problem. He was going to have to get that off-limits thing through his head before he let any more overt attraction slip free. “We’re making a U-turn with this conversation and getting back to the workout plan.”
Lydia sucked in a sharp breath. “That’s no fun.”
Luke slowed the pace a bit. “Inhale and exhale using your nose and mouth at the same time. Like we talked about.”
“How am I supposed to tease you then?”
“You’re not,” he said pointedly. “You’re supposed to focus more on your breathing and less on trying to annoy me.”
“You were blushing. I saw you.”
Rolling his eyes, Luke picked up the pace.
“Okay! Wait, wait!” Lydia called. “I’ll stop. Just don’t speed up!”
“And you’ll do the burpees?” Luke asked.
“Well, now you’re just pushing it.” Luke started to speed up again, but Lydia caught him by the elbow. “Fine. I will do the burpees!”
“You can do this,” Luke said. “It’s new and hard and uncomfortable but youcando it.”
“I hate you. You know that, right?”
“Oh, definitely.” Luke didn’t stop grinning until they reached the end of the run. They’d finished off the last two miles with a mix of jogging and walking, but overall Luke was pleased with Lydia’s attempt. He held his hand out for a high five. Lydia let her hand skim his palm then doubled over, clutching her knees as she leaned against the exterior of the gym. Luke placed a hand on her shoulder. “How’re you feeling?”
“A little like Jell-O.”
“As long as you can still feel all your limbs.” He opened the door. “C’mon, get some water.”
Lydia went straight to the fountain. While she did that, Luke stood at the front desk, reviewing her training plan. At the top of the page was a space that said Client Goal. Luke had written:charity run for the NYC Marathon. “Hey, what charity are you running for? I don’t think you ever said.”
Lydia wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. “Uh, not sure exactly which one yet. But I know they’re associated with the Manhattan Youth Center.”
“Oh, no way,” Luke said, intrigued.
“You know it?”
