Page 14 of Match Made in the Maldives

“Yeah, man.” Cass stands by a table filled with fruits, cheeses, and other snacks and pops a shrimp into her mouth. She levels Aaron with a playful but challenging stare fueled by sibling rivalry. “Why do you care?”

“We’re here, all together, in this unreal place, and Lou’s doing what?”

“Relaxing,” I reply, annoyance surging in my voice.

“Alright.” My dad has a way of warning us with one word. He and my mom rest in loungers on the opposite side of the villa’s pool, snacking on a plate of food.

Aaron drops whatever bone he wants to pick with me, and I focus on work. Catching up on projects so that I can continue to be my own boss and not crawl back to the agency isn’t so bad. I’d love tonothave to make logo mock-ups right now, but I’ll takesitting by a rectangular infinity pool by the Indian Ocean over a crowded coffee shop in Wicker Park any day.

Working also distracts me from Finn. He spent the afternoon swimming, staring at the water beyond the villa, and resting on a lounger with a shirt over his face. Anytime I catch his eye, he looks elsewhere, so maybe I’m back to best-friend’s-pesky-sister status.

That doesn’t explain the kiss last night, though, which wasn’t one-sided. The vibration of him grunting with lust against my mouth sent me straight to bed with my hand between my legs. But between the two of us, I took our interaction to the next level by rubbing against his erection like a cat in heat. The reminder of his hardness makes me slick in my bikini bottoms.

Fucking Tanner getting in the way from half a world away.

As fun as it would be to turn up the heat on my Finn crush, I shouldn’t have a vacation fling with my brother’s best friend. My parents and siblings view him as part of the family, so who knows what they would make of me dating him, much less sleeping with him on our father’s cancerversary trip. And what if something became more serious between us? Finn would see the real me—the one who’s juggling heaps of projects at work and trying to hold her life together, the one who likes to spend Saturday night curled up on the couch, makeup-free and cuddling her cat. He’d tire of me, eventually.

Finn pushes himself up and out of the pool, water dripping from his mop of hair and down the mountains and valleys of his skin. I would pay to lick him dry. I grant myself three seconds to stare at the defined V-shape at his hips—okay, five—before looking back at my screen, which has gone dark from inactivity. Finn takes a lounger near me, leaving one empty chair between us.

You’re my best friend’s little sister. I just don’t know what came over me.

He seemed taken aback that we kissed—no doubt wondering how I could betray my not-boyfriend. I came dangerously close to confessing the ugly, shameful truth, but I’d rather Finn hold on to his false suspicion than know how my ex tossed me aside once he got bored with our relationship. So, I offered the quick and easy option to pretend it never happened.

But I enjoy kissing Finn. I should know, because I’ve been lucky enough to kiss him twice.

For him, all those years ago, it was probably just another night out drinking with some work buddies. Finn never mentioned the evening to me, not once. He must have forgotten it.

I never did, though.

“So who’s it gonna be?” Genevieve asked as our group huddled around a sticky table in the corner. She’s one of my best friends now, but at the time, I had only moved into the same apartment complex as her a few weeks earlier. She and a few other friends had dragged me out and bought me three shots of tequila already, determined to lift my spirits.

“This is ridiculous,” I muttered.

“What’s ridiculous is you crying over a guy on a Friday night. You’re too young and beautiful to not be sucking face this weekend. So pick.”

With a straw, I stabbed the ice in my drink as my eyes scanned the space. I skimmed over the obvious couples and double dates until I landed on a coed group taking up some sofas at the other end of the room. A man facing away from us got up, tall, lean, and confident as he strode to the bar and waved to the bartender. When I caught his profile, my pulse picked up.

Finn.

I jutted my chin his way without thinking. “Him.”

They gave me a hushed chorus of agreement. “Yes, girl,” and “So hot.”

We’d all had plenty to drink, so my friends who had met Finn before didn’t recognize him from behind. The dim bar lighting did me a favor in keeping his identity hidden too. If I had to play this game, at least I could have a partner I trusted.

In the past, I’d sometimes imagined what kissing Finn would be like, like when I saw him sweaty and worked up from a challenging soccer match. Other times, he would bring a girlfriend over for the holidays, and she’d fawn over him at the dinner table. The sight would send a shot of curiosity straight to my brain.

But Finn had always been off-limits in my mind. He tolerated me since I was his best friend’s sibling, but there was no possibility he’d find me attractive in a sexual or romantic way. Not to mention how dating him would throw off the balance of the family dynamics.

I wouldn’t pursue him, though. This wasn’t dating. This would be a kiss and just a kiss.

My roommate gave me a pat on the ass, and I stalked over to where Finn stood handing off some drinks to a coworker.

“Hey,” I said, steadying my wobbly feet with a hand on the sticky bar.

“Wow, hi Lou.”

“Don’t hug me.” My words blended together in a rush. “Act like we’re meeting for the first time.”

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