“Faster,” he urged. “Form doesn’t matter. Just keep your fingers closed and get your arms moving as fast as you can, like a propeller.”

She sped up and laughed harder.

“Good. Now turn the whole thing ninety degrees and kick really hard, too.” He laid his hand lightly on her upper back, not pressing down but indicating that he wanted her to tilt her body into the water. “Don’t think, just go! Go!”

She went.

And sank.

But at least she didn’t panic when it happened.

He was at her side before she fully righted herself. “Okay, again.”

She tried again to the same end.

“Again.”

“What’s that saying about how insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results?”

“Humor me,” he said.

She sighed and started her propellers again, and…

She was swimming! Extremely inelegantly and tossing up a ton of water as she did so, but still! She was moving her body through the water, her brain crackling with a mixture of concentration and excitement.

“Yes!” he shouted. “Keep going!”

She went about ten feet before she was so exhausted that she had to stop.

But on second thought, maybe it wasn’t exhaustion that had her breathless so much as exhilaration.

Which Sawyer seemed to share, judging by the way he was whooping and pumping his fist.

“I did it!” she exclaimed.

“You sure as hell did!” He started splashing over to her. He held his arms out, and without thinking she stepped into them. She realized at the last second that he had actually been holding up his palms in a double high-five gesture. She tried to stop her forward momentum, but it was too late.

He adjusted, and his arms came around her as if a hug had been his plan all along. He even lifted her off her feet and twirled her around like they were a couple in a movie. And oh, once again: those arms. Strong and sure and dangerous.

And there was his beard, rubbing against her cheek. It was as soft as it looked. She didn’t have experience with beards. Her exes had been clean shaven. She had always thought beards would be coarse to the touch. Scratchy. But she could deep condition the hair on her head every day for the rest of her life and never get it as soft as Sawyer’s beard.

Things started to get awkward. There was no call for them to be standing in the lake hugging, and they both seemed to realize it at the same time. She pulled away from his embrace, intending to free herself, but he was holding on more tightly than she’d realized and he stumbled forward as she started to tip back. He grabbed her, resulting in a tighter embrace than they’d started with.

“Ha!” She fake laughed. It sounded fake. Ugh.