1)

The yacht was ridiculous. Ridiculously massive. Ridiculously expensive. Ridiculously Max.

Carlos stood at the dock, staring at the glossy white monstrosity rocking gently on the water. His arms were crossed, and his brow was furrowed in that way that made Max’s heart race—a mix of what the hell are you up to and I’m already fond of you, idiot.

Max grinned, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Surprise.”

Carlos slowly turned toward him. “Max... what is this?”

“It’s a yacht.” Max’s grin widened. He bounced a little on his heels, too pleased with himself to stand still. “You said—remember, that one time in Monaco, after the gala? You said yachts were cool. So... I got us one. For tonight. Just us.”