Page 10 of You Can't Ruin Christmas

“Your form is really good,” he says, and his throat is tight and hoarse.

His hand slips a few inches from my lower back to just rest gently on the curve of my hip. I inhale sharply but I do not falter in performing the exercise.

“Whoa!” says a female voice. “Am I interrupting something?”

I jump slightly, and look up to see our roommate, Heather, has just walked in with her suitcase. She is a flight attendant who only comes home for a few days each month, and of course, this is the moment she walks in.

“Hey Heather,” I say weakly. “I’m getting my Body by Sven.”

“Fire hydrants,” Sven explains, gesturing to my position. “It strengthens the abductors through a motion that resembles a dog lifting his leg to pee on a fire hydrant.”

Oh my god. No. I quickly turn over so that my butt is not in Heather’s face, although my cheeks are quite red. I also close my legs, and I’m pretty sure I am never opening them ever again.

“I see,” she responds, nodding with a wicked smile. “You seem like a very hands-on personal trainer, Sven. Maybe I’ll have to book a session, sometime.”

“Sure!” he responds, and I instantly feel annoyed and jealous at his enthusiasm. “My rates are on my website, which you can find on my Instagram. Mary made the website for me.”

“I’m still working on the website,” I correct. “I mean, I polished it up a little, but I have some ideas to make it even better.”

“Nonsense, it’s perfect,” Sven says.

“I will check it out,” Heather says, as she heads for her room. But then she turns back and looks at us suspiciously. “Does Sebastian know about this whole—” She waves her hand in the air, gesturing at us instead of using words. “Personal training arrangement?”

“Sebastian dumped me,” I explain to her. “For dozens of screaming hockey fans.”

“Oh no,” she says softly. “I’m so sorry, babe. I guess he had one too many concussions out there on the ice, huh? But for what it’s worth, you look great! That is a hot-as-hell revenge body if I’ve ever seen one.”

“Thanks, Heather.”

“I am exhausted and I need to crash,” she says. “But you kids have fun, and I’ll be wearing ear plugs, so don’t worry about making too much noise and waking me up.” She winks at us before moving through the door of her room.

“We weren’t going to do anything noisy!” I call after her. “Maybe just the punching bag, but—”

“No explanations needed!” she shouts. “You do you, Mary! Or you know, do whoever else you want to do! In doggy-style, fire-hydrant-style, or whatever!”

“Oh my gosh,” I say, putting my red face in my hands to conceal my humiliation.

Sven, on the other hand, is grinning.

“Come on,” he says, offering me his hand to help me stand up. “Let me make you my special egg nog-flavored protein shake.”

Taking his hand and rising to my feet, I am still blushing hard. “That sounds delicious.”

---