Jamar went downstairs and walked into his home gym. He stopped short.

Damn.

Taylor had changed into the outfit she wore in her YouTube videos: baggy army-green pants and a camouflage print fitness bra with the words TAYLOR’D CONDITIONING in orange lettering across her not too big but not too small breasts. Her abs sported a six-pack, but it wasn’t cut like his. It was soft, delicate. Delicate looked so fucking good on her.

She looked up from her phone and spotted him. “Oh, you’re back. Good. Ready to get started?”

“Just a sec,” Jamar said. He walked over to the cubby where he kept athletic tape and a compression sleeve for his knee. His knee felt fine, but he needed a moment to recalibrate his brain after the initial shock of seeing Taylor in her workout clothes. Not preparing himself for that was a rookie move.

He slipped on the compression sleeve and returned to the custom-made, high-impact foam mat he’d had installed in the middle of the six-hundred-square-foot gym. Taylor stood in the center, her hands on her hips and her legs braced apart.

She was going to kick his ass.

He was ready for it.

Jamar clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “So, what’s first?”

“You’re in much better shape than most of my clients. That means I’m going to work you harder, so I hope you’re prepared.”

“Gimme what you got,” he taunted.

Her brow quirked. Jamar knew he was playing with fire, but at the moment getting burned didn’t seem all that bad.

“First, I’m going to test your endurance.” She motioned to the treadmill.

He stepped up on the platform and reached for the display panel, but she stopped him.

“No. I control this. You run.”

She started him off with a comfortable jog, the slight incline and 4.5 mph pace nothing he couldn’t handle. After ten minutes she increased the speed to 6.5 mph and raised the incline by two degrees, then incrementally raised both every five minutes. By the time he crossed the half-hour mark, sweat was pouring down his face and pooling at the base of his spine. The muscles in his thighs were on fire.

“How do you feel?” Taylor asked.

He tried to speak, but words wouldn’t come. Instead, he nodded. He knew his body. He could push through this.

“Give me ten more minutes at this pace,” she said.

Shit. No way would he make another ten minutes. Jamar flashed five fingers.

“Okay, I’ll take five,” she said with a shrug. “It’s only the first day.”