“Hey there,” Taylor said.

“Hi,” he replied. “Glad you could make it.” He smiled as he held the door open for her.

“Are you hungry?” Jamar asked, pointing to the counter. “It’s my treat.”

Taylor ordered a jackfruit and black bean burrito, carrot juice, and a vegan brownie that would absolutely be her dinner tonight. Jamar added an orange juice to the order.

“You mind if we sit back there?” Jamar asked once they’d collected their food. “It’s a little more private.”

She looked around, wondering why it would make a difference in the virtually empty café. “Um, okay.”

As they made their way to the table, Taylor took the opportunity to size him up from the back. She decided she now had two types: Lenny Kravitz and any man with a firm butt. She was pretty sure if she flicked Jamar’s ass, she would break her finger.

Oh my God. Stop!

If she was going to work with him, she had to get her filthy mind off his world-class ass. Well, except when it was time to work his glutes. That was the only context in which she would think about his ass. It was a muscle. A very shapely, ridiculously firm muscle that was worthy of her attention and appreciation as a fitness professional.

Taylor tried not to attack her food as soon as they sat down, but once the aroma of the sautéed onions hit her senses, there was no holding her back. She’d been so caught up in binge-watching her missed episodes of Real Housewives of Atlanta that she’d skipped breakfast this morning.

“So what exactly do you have in mind?” Taylor asked as she finished her first mouthful.

“Full immersion,” he said. “I need to go all in with my workouts.” He glanced around as if he expected the CIA to come bursting through the doors at any moment. “I have a fitness goal that I’d like to reach by the end of December,” he said in a lowered voice. “I’ve been trying to do it on my own, but my results just won’t cut it. I need you to create a blueprint that will jump-start my fitness regimen.”

“What does your normal workout look like?”

Jamar filled her in on his typical day—a six- to eight-mile run, weights, more cardio. “I’m looking to up my training to between four and five hours a day, five days a week. The doctors said I only have a twenty percent chance of ever playing professionally again, but the way I see it, twenty percent is still twenty percent. I’ve spent too much time focusing on the eighty. I don’t want to do that anymore. I want to move forward.”

Taylor pushed her lunch to the side and brought her elbows up on the table. “So what’s your goal in terms of this blueprint you want me to create?”