I’m dying. I feel like my lungs are burning. I’ll be damned if I let the Brady brothers notice, though. Of course my broody, sexy-as-sin new running partner would have a huge family. Of course they’re all lithe and interested in running. They probably go jogging with my boss Tim and his brothers.

I noticed Isaac speed up a half mile ago and I’m working my ovaries off trying to keep the new pace and pretend like I’m actually able to talk. Really, I am desperate to wheeze, to gasp in gulps of air. But Isaac said I should be comfortable enough to talk at this pace, and I’ll be damned if I let myself seem like a weak link. Who decided people should converse while they’re running? This feels like torture. Of course these two Brady boys are able to chitchat.

My mind drifts and I start thinking about Isaac’s thighs in those tapered running pants. I fantasize about poking his long muscles. Just jabbing one of my cold fingers into the side of his leg. God, I bet they’re firm as marble. Halfway done with this run, I think as we turn around and head back the way we came. This won’t be terrible. Will it? Just focus on the thighs, I tell myself.

”Whoah,” I feel a hand on my hip and I look down to see the sweaty paw of Isaac Brady clutching at my fleece as he stumbles on the gravel.

”Sorry,” he mutters quickly, regaining his footing. ”My dickhead brother shoved me into you.”

”My bad, Nicky.” Cal runs ahead of us and turns around, jogging backwards and giving a high five to the passing group leader with the megaphone.

”Do not call me Nicky,” I tell Cal, gritting my teeth so I don’t wheeze. I can’t wait to at least cough so I can draw enough wind to keep going.

”My bad again,” Cal says, and then he looks between me and Isaac, and back again. He seems confused for a second and he says, ”Well, I’m going to hurry ahead before all the free bagels are gone,” and he dashes down the path.

”What was all that about?” I have to focus all my oxygen to make the sentence sound normal. I cannot let him know I’m struggling. I refuse.

”All what?”

I turn my head to stare at Isaac, incredulous. ”Your brother just scurried away when I yelled at him about calling me Nicky.”

Isaac actually laughs at this, and I feel my insides respond to the low rumble of sound he makes as he runs. ”Maybe he doesn’t like to be yelled at.”

I snort. ”He’d better not spend time with me, then. I yell at everyone.”

”Noted,” Isaac says, and he grins again. I like that I made him grin. It seems like something difficult to do, and I like being good at things. Which is partly why this running situation is making me act like such an asshole. I’m way out of my element here. Hell, I can’t even breathe.

We run in silence for a bit after that. The bagels at the parking lot are sounding better and better. Isaac’s shoe crunches over some litter on the trail, and I brave a proper wheeze and puff of wind as the sound of him kicking the plastic away masks the noises of me dying. But it doesn’t work.

”Is this pace too fast?”

”I’m fine.” It takes all my control again to keep my voice even, natural sounding. Maybe the flames I feel inside aren’t related to my attraction to him at all. More likely, I’m dying of asphyxiation. Oxygen deprivation. I’ll have to ask Emma to look up whether that’s a real thing.

”Hey, why don’t you unzip your pullover a little, or even lose a layer.” His voice sounds a little far off, even though I can see that he’s right by my side. Isn’t he?

”You’re not getting me out of my clothes that easy,” I spit out. And then, to my horror, I get dizzy and I think I black out for a second, because the next thing I know I’m tumbling into the hedge along the path.

When I open my eyes, I realize my body is being cradled by something warm and firm. I’m disoriented, but comfortable.

Mmm, maybe it’s one of those massage chairs I’ve been telling Mark to install in my office. This is fantastic. So warm, gently moving.

Fuck. I open my eyes all the way and stare into the concerned face of Isaac Brady. ”What happened,” I ask, struggling to sit up.

”Hey, easy,” he says, setting a hand on my shoulder. ”You just passed out.”

I wriggle away from his touch before his heat burns through to my bones. My heart is pounding in my ears and my chest is heaving. I guess the jig is up, and I feel myself recoiling at the idea that he’s seen me in a weak spot. What the hell is he doing to me? I should know better than to let someone else take up rent-free space in my head. There is no reason I should care about this guy at all. ”It’s fine,” I tell him. ”I am just not used to running like this, like I said.”

”You were pushing yourself too hard. It’s too cold to be doing that—”

I cut him off by wheezing and hacking like my lungs are on fire. Seriously, it feels like knives are slicing through my chest. ”It’s called kilo cough,” Isaac says, resting a hand on my back. ”You pushed yourself too hard, like I said.” I don’t have enough air to yell at him for spitting my words back at me.

”My lungs hurt worse than my legs,” I wail in between bouts of painful coughs.

He just nods and helps me to my feet. ”You put in what? Two miles of max effort just to prove to me that you didn’t need to breathe hard or slow down?” He raises an eyebrow and looks smug.

Who the fuck is this guy? I want to punch him in the dick, but thinking that causes me to look down at said body part and seeing the bulge inside his track pants makes me lick my lips in between coughs.

”Don’t flatter yourself,” I tell him. ”I’m only pushing myself because my boss is expecting our team to beat your fucking firm in the marathon.”

This gets a laugh out of him. ”Stag Law wants to beat Beltane? That’ll be the day.” He hooks a hand under my upper arm and guides me down the path. We’re close enough to the parking lot now that I can see one of his siblings running along toward us. Is it the same one as before? I can’t tell them apart when I’m hacking up a lung. Meanwhile, Isaac starts to list the different endurance events he and his family participate in as a group. All the -thons, apparently.

”You all right there, Ms. Kennedy?” The same brother as before holds out a cup of water and I snatch it from him greedily. As I slurp down the icy liquid he laughs and says, ”See? I learn from my mistakes and I come bearing peace offerings. What happened?”

I open my mouth to tell him I’m dying from this ridiculous training exercise, but Isaac growls, ”She’s fine. We’re good here, Cal.”

I look at Issac. This is interesting. Isaac clearly doesn’t want his brother hanging around us.

However, ”Don’t speak for me, Isaac. Don’t ever speak for me.” I turn to face Cal again. ”I’m great. Never been better. You said there were bagels?”