The Personal Trainer

Chapter 1

Lena wiped her palms on her leggings before pushing open the gym door. The air hit her like a wall: rubber mats, antiseptic, and underneath it all, the salty tang of effort. The kind of effort she’d never been good at. Mirrors lined the walls, mercilessly framing her in a sports bra that now dug a bit into her sides, leggings that *used* to sit smooth against her hips. A tiny but stubborn swell of belly poked above the waistband.

Four months. That’s all it had taken. Four months of dining hall soft-serve, late-night pizza over textbooks, and “just one more” bag of chips while cramming for exams. The freshman fifteen hadn’t crept up on her, it had slammed into her like a freight train while she wasn’t looking.

Across the room, a woman with sculpted arms and a neon sports bra lifted weights without a single grunt. Lena’s own face was already flushed just standing here.

"Lena?" A deep voice cut through her thoughts.

She turned and nearly choked on her own breath. Jake. The trainer she’d booked online. His photo hadn’t done him justice—broad shoulders, a tapered waist, and arms that looked like they could lift her without breaking a sweat. His smile was warm, but there was something else in his eyes. Something… hungry.

"Ready for your assessment?" he asked, clipboard in hand.

She nodded, suddenly hyper-aware of the way her stomach pressed against her waistband.

—

Jake started her off light, almost too light. A few half-hearted squats, some stretches, nothing that would actually burn calories. Every time she glanced at him, he was watching her—not her form, but her. The way she reacted to the instructions. The way her breath hitched when she bent over.

"You’re doing great," he murmured, handing her a water bottle. "But you know, most people fail because they don’t fuel properly."

She frowned. "I thought the point was to burn fuel.”

He chuckled. "Not if your body goes into starvation mode. Here." He pulled out a shaker bottle filled with thick, creamy liquid. "Post-workout recovery. High protein, good fats—keeps your metabolism firing."

She took a sip. Sweet. Rich. Like melted ice cream. "This is… a lot."

"You’d be surprised how many calories your body needs," he said smoothly. "Especially when you’re committed to change."

Something about the way he said *committed* sent a shiver down her spine.

As they walked past the treadmills, a woman with a razor-sharp ponytail gave Lena a once-over, then smirked at Jake. "New client?"

"Yep," Jake said, patting Lena’s shoulder—a little too possessively. "We’re taking it slow. Building sustainable habits."

The woman’s eyes flicked to the shake in Lena’s hand. "Uh-huh."

Lena’s face burned.

In the locker room, she stared at herself in the mirror. Had her stomach always curved out *this* much? Or was it just the tight shirt?

Her phone buzzed with a message from Jake.

"Great session today. Don’t forget—nutrition is 80% of the battle. I’ll send you a meal plan. And maybe a dessert recipe. For balance :)"

She bit her lip. That shake *had* been delicious.

And Jake… he hadn’t made her feel gross. He’d made her feel seen.

She typed back: "Sounds perfect."

Outside the gym, Jake smiled at his phone.

Perfect indeed.