When You're Mine - Layla Hagen Page 0,3

was with clients who only did weight training, I only watched and corrected their posture.

"You've been my trainer for two months, and I've never left here injured. I trust you."

"Oh, that's good to know. Does that mean you won’t give me a hard time when I make you do some extra exercises?" I said with a grin.

“You’re mean,” Isabelle said, grinning right back.

I took great pride in my job. I loved being a fitness trainer, and I considered myself lucky to be working at Genesis. It was one of the most sought-after gyms to work at in New York because it offered complete privacy, attracting high-paying prestigious clients—and the salary was excellent. I was very fortunate when they hired me two years ago. I recruited a full client list, and all were happy with me and their results, so management was delighted. They also were very thoughtful after my accident, giving me two weeks off with full pay! It was a family-run business with two locations in the city and took really good care of their employees and customers.

Many of my clients recommended me to their friends and family, so I’d brought in lots of new customers. After training with me for a while, Brayden brought Isabelle too, who in turn brought her friend Tess Winchester, and her brother as well.

"So, what did you and Dylan talk about?" she asked while we did a third set of crunches.

I stopped my exercises and pointed at her.

"I know what you're doing. You're trying to distract me."

"No I'm not," she said. When I laughed, she added, "Yes I am. I always do that during my third rep set, don't I?"

"Yes you do. Like clockwork."

"So maybe we should cut the crunches to two rep sets."

I laughed. It was always such a blast to work with Isabelle. She was like all of us, though, wanting to look good but not wanting to suffer for it.

"You said you want a trim waist for your wedding day. Unfortunately, that does require three rep sets to tighten your muscles." Her big day was in November, which was in five months. That was plenty of time to get into shape.

"Well, my abs do look amazing ever since I began following your instructions. So there you go. Torture me away. But I still want to know what you talked about with my brother."

Oh, her gorgeous, sexy-as-hell brother! He couldn’t look more different from Isabelle, who was petite with red hair and green eyes. Dylan was tall with broad shoulders, his eyes were brown, and his hair was a mix of dark blond and brown. I didn't want to tell her what we talked about. Not only because I didn't want her to know I still fell victim to fads such as juice diets, but I was also afraid she might be able to tell how attractive I found him.

"If you insist on talking, why don't you tell me about your brother?" I asked. "But you can tell me later, after you finish your workout."

"Why not now? I can do it now. You know, then it'll take my mind off the third set."

"Isabelle, if you can talk like this while you're doing the exercises, then it's not difficult enough. Come on, raise your legs to forty-five degrees. That's going to increase the intensity."

She did as I said, and just like that, she was having a hard time breathing, let alone talking. I wasn't quite sure I wanted to know more about her brother anyway. I could still feel his arms around me. They were so strong and determined not to let me fall, and that was a comforting feeling, one I hadn’t felt in quite some time.

Once we were both done with the abs workout, we switched positions, preparing for outer thigh exercises.

We were both on our sides, watching each other, head propped on one hand, raising the upper leg.

"Okay. Now we can talk, right?" Isabelle said, smiling from ear to ear.

"I guess we can." The only exercises that were impossible to do while talking were core exercises. "So, you were saying about your brother," I prompted, not wanting to be the one to speak.

"My brother is amazing. Well, both my brothers are. I’m very close to them, and I'm so happy they live in New York now. They dote on me, and I dote on them. They pretend they're annoyed with me when I get too much into their business, but I know they're not."

“How do you know that?" Since