He raised his eyebrows. “Again?” She nodded. “All right, let’s do a countdown this time—we lift on three.” She grabbed his shoulders, and he found the points of her hips. “I think I need a better grip. I’m going to hold you tighter this time.” God help him. “Does this hurt?”

She shook her head no, looking at him with an uncharacteristically serious expression that caused him a moment of unexplained panic. But then they were gone—her serious face and his hint of panic. Her hair was plastered to her cheeks, and she wore a grin so wide it looked like it might crack her face in two.

God, he just liked her so much. He was so happy to be here, in the sun, in the ocean, in this moment, in what felt like grace, though grace was not a state Max had much experience with.

All right. Enough. He was being ridiculous. “Ready?” She nodded. He splayed his fingers around her hips and planted his feet in the squishy sand. “One, two, three!” He lifted, and up, up, up she went, extending and tightening her body as she lengthened her arms out in front of her.

“Eeee!” she called when his arms were fully extended and they’d reached an equilibrium. “We’re doing it!”

They were, and as he tilted his head back to look at her, a sharp spike of satisfaction, of pride even, rose in his chest, as if this were an actual accomplishment. She looked like a dancer. No, like a superhero. “We’re doing it,” he echoed, but it came out more a whisper than the triumphant shout that would have matched the sentiment.

She looked down, and he knew they were going to fall—the slight movement had been enough to nudge them out of alignment—but their eyes locked for a moment before it happened. She’d been laughing, gleeful, but her face suddenly went serious, contemplative. There wasn’t time to ponder it because the fall was underway. “Dive!” he called, and she did, bringing her arms together and tucking her head. She dragged him along with her as she moved through space, and as he fell back into the water, he started laughing again.

She popped up, the laughing, jubilant version of her pushing her hair out of her eyes. She flung her arms into the air in victory and started splashing toward him. She had one hand up, so he thought she was coming in for a high-five. He lifted a hand to meet hers, but she didn’t seem to see it, just kept coming until she was there, winding her arms around his neck and pressing her chest against his, pressing her breasts against him.