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“Fuck you!” I flip her off.

There are too many of us now, with people joining from nearby umbrellas, someone's boyfriend, someone's cousin, and somehow Jude ends up beside me, shirtless and on my team.

Wonderful. Exactly what I need.

“You any good, Grumpy?”

He looks down at me. “Yep.”

I roll my eyes. “Of course you are.”

One corner of his mouth lifts. “You?”

“Used to be.”

“So no.”

I gasp. “Did you just trash-talk me?”

“Just stating facts.”

“Oh, you're going down, cowboy.”

“We're on the same team.”

“Still.”

He actually laughs, and for the next twenty minutes, I forget everything else. I just play and laugh.

Jude is annoyingly good, obviously. The man is six foot something with arms that could probably lift a horse, so every time he jumps near the net I'm basically useless.

“Leave some for the rest of us!” I yell after he blocks another shot.

“Get faster.”

“Asshole!”

He grins. Actually fucking grins.

Then someone sends the ball flying toward the back of our side, too far for anyone to get it.

Except apparently me.

I run.

“Nora!”

I dive for it, barely getting my hands under the ball before it hits the sand and sending it flying back over the net. For a second, everyone just watches. The other team scrambles, someone hits it badly and the ball lands.

Our side erupts.

“Yes!” I scream, pushing myself off the sand.

And then Jude is there.

His hands close around my waist and suddenly my feet aren't touching the ground. I squeal as he lifts me and spins me around.

“Fucking hell, Nora!”