Page 31 of Isla

I nod my agreement. "As long as you have a coffee stop scheduled into this trip, it sounds perfect."

"Don't worry, I didn't forget about your caffeine addiction." We pull into the ferry terminal, park the car where the attendant instructs, and then Dylan jumps out, coming around to help open my door. "We have about twenty minutes. If we run, we'll make it."

"Dylan!"

"No time for arguing, come on."

"I can just get a coffee on the ferry!" I protest, trying to ignore the zing of awareness that plows through my body when he grabs my hand.

"You and I both know that's not good enough." He gives me a grin, and then we're off, dodging around cars and dashing up the street. I'm gasping for breath by the time we get to the café, mentally making a note to add more cardio to my gym routine. Dylan looks perfectly coifed, like we did nothing but take a leisurely walk.

"How are you not out of breath?" I pant, putting my hands on my knees as I struggle to suck air into my lungs.

"I'm an elite athlete, Isla. Didn't you know?"

I return his wink with a glare, wiping the sweat from my upper lip.

He holds up hands his hands in surrender. "Before we moved, Iparticipated in triathlons. I'll have to start training again before I start losing progress."

"Triathlons? I've always wanted to do one, but the training alone is intimidating."

"They're not so bad after the first one."

"How many have you done?"

"My goal is three per year."

Holy shit. "What was the last one?" Our turn comes up before he can answer, but I get suspicious when he still doesn't respond after we step aside to wait. “Are you evading my question?"

"No," he laughs. "I just don't want to intimidate you." His dimple comes out, the sparkle in his eyes making my knees wobble.

"Intimidate me?"

"That's why we were in Scotland last summer."

I think back to last summer, and it dawns on me. "You're kidding. You were here for the Ironman?" He nods, a blush creeping up his cheeks. "I thought you were joking about your elite athlete comment. Holy shit, Dylan." I can see the relief in his eyes when the barista calls his name. He insists on holding my coffee as we head back to the car, not giving it up until I’m safely seated. "What made you decide to start doing triathlons?" I ask once he’s joined me.

He thinks about the question, taking a minute before responding. "I was starting to believe people's perception of me—that I was just a nerd that liked numbers." He looks up at me. "I wanted to prove that I’m more than my IQ."

"I’ve never thought about it like that before. I know athletes are usually put in a box, but I guess I never realized it went the other way, too."

He shrugs. "It doesn't help that Henry and Theo were athletes in high school. I had a healthy dose of jealousy spurring my decision." I can't take my eyes off his hand as he shifts into drive and follows the line of cars onto the ferry. As soon as we're parked, he takes my hand, and we race inside to get the best seats.

"I'm glad we're doing this," I whisper, looking over at him, shyness creeping in.

"Me, too." He holds my gaze while he sips his coffee, licking the foam from his upper lip. "Now it's your turn to tell me your secrets."

"I don't really have any. What you see is what you get."

"I highly doubt that," he says, his eyes caressing every inch of my skin. I'm not sure if he realizes what he’s doing, but my body's response is instantaneous. "Tell me something you're passionate about, then."

"I love planning the parties at the castle." God, that’s such a ditsy thing to say. I cover my cheeks, hiding my embarrassment.

"What kind of parties?"

"There's the yearly masquerade ball coming up, then the Oidhche Shamhna ball."

"The what?"

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