Page 2 of My Trainer Neighbor
Instead of looking chastened, he looked more amused."Reasonable hours.Right.What time would work better for you, princess?Ten AM?Noon?When exactly do you roll out of bed?"
Princess.He actually called me princess.
"Six-thirty.Like a normal person with a normal job."
"Six-thirty."He nodded like he was filing this information away."Noted.And what's this normal job of yours?"
"Marketing."
"Right."Something in how he said it told me he'd just categorized me completely."Let me guess.Corner office.Designer suits.Long hours staring at spreadsheets and PowerPoint presentations."
He wasn't wrong, but his tone made it sound like an insult."There's nothing wrong with having a career."
"Never said there was."He straightened, forcing me to tilt my head back to maintain eye contact."But there's also nothing wrong with taking care of your body.Keeping yourself healthy.Maybe burning off some of that tension you're clearly carrying around."
His gaze dropped to my shoulders, which I knew were probably rigid.They always were these days.
"I'm not tense."
"Sure you're not."The smile was back, with an edge to it that made my stomach flip."Look, neighbor—"
"Nicole."
"Nicole."He repeated my name like he was testing how it sounded."I'm Shawn.And here's the thing, Nicole.I'm going to work out every morning at five because that's when I work out.I'm going to play music while I do it because that's how I get motivated.And if that bothers you, maybe you should invest in some earplugs."
His dismissal stung.I was used to commanding respect in boardrooms full of men twice my age, and here was this arrogant, sweaty, admittedly gorgeous man treating me like I was some uptight neighbor complaining about nothing.
Which, fine.Maybe I was uptight.Maybe I did care too much about schedules and protocols and getting eight hours of sleep.But I also had responsibilities.Goals.A life that required me to be sharp and focused, not distracted by inconsiderate neighbors who looked like they'd stepped out of a fitness magazine.
"You know what?"I stepped back, wrapping my robe tighter."Forget I said anything.Enjoy your workouts, Shawn.I'm sure the rest of the building will love them as much as I do."
I turned to go, but his voice stopped me.
"For what it's worth," he said, and something in his tone made me look back."You look like you could use more than just eight hours of sleep.When's the last time you did something just for fun?"
The question caught me off guard.When was the last time I'd done something for fun?I tried to remember and came up blank.Work had been consuming every moment for months.Years, if I was being honest.
But that was none of his business.
"Have a good workout," I said, and walked back to my apartment.
Once inside, I leaned against my door.My heart was racing.From anger, I told myself.From frustration at dealing with an inconsiderate neighbor who clearly thought he could do whatever he wanted.
Not from how his eyes had lingered on my mouth when I'd said his name.Not from those sweatpants hanging on his hips, or the intricate patterns of ink covering his chest and arms.
Not that.
I glanced at my microwave clock.5:15.No point trying to sleep now, not when I was this wired.I might as well review the Carleton presentation one more time.
As I headed toward my home office, the music started up again next door.Quieter this time, but still audible through the shared wall.
I settled at my desk with my laptop and coffee.Tried to focus on market demographics and brand positioning instead of the rhythmic sounds coming from 4B.
It didn't work.
Every time I heard a weight drop or caught the low rumble of Shawn's voice over the music, I thought about how he'd looked at me.Like he'd seen right through my robe and controlled exterior to something I wasn't sure I wanted him to see.
Like he knew exactly how long it had been since someone made me feel anything other than stressed, exhausted, or professionally accomplished.
