Page 28 of Match Made in the Maldives

“Did he message you again?”

“Only once. The meaning ofno contactmay have seeped into his skull.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

I shrug. “I hate how he reappears anytime life’s going well. Like he has some kind of sixth sense.”

“Total dickhead. You should tell Dr. R he reached out.”

About three years ago, I’d been in a tough spot emotionally. I was trying to hang on to whatever shreds of a family I had after my dad died—not that he’d been around much, but my mom was broken up about his passing. Spending more time with her equaled more time around Blake. Not to mention that Lou started going out with Tanner, which only exacerbated my insecurities of never feeling good enough for anything.

Aaron could tell something was off, so he recommended I see Dr. Rowland, a therapist from the mental health facility attached to his hospital. She keeps communication open in case I encounter something unexpected or difficult, which includes surprise texts from my estranged brother.

After the drills, Aaron and I find a shady spot on a metal bench. We’re both wiped out after over an hour of running and shooting balls back and forth. When I tell him that I’m still uncertain about my next career move, he counters by listing off all the terrible things about California, including the earthquakes and traffic. He’s only joking, and I know if I go with this San Jose gig, he’d support me. I can’t ignore the growing weight around this decision, though.

Especially now with whatever’s going on with Luna.

I shift the conversation to Aaron’s life. He tells me a bit about things with him and Mel—how her side of the family reacted to their choice to remain child-free, and how they’re considering a stint with Doctors Without Borders.

“Look at you.” I nudge him with my shoulder. “Taking your skills abroad.”

“Yeah. Got nothing tying us down. Dad’s in remission now, and as long as he stays that way, we can take a year and spend it somewhere else.”

“Great idea.”

“It’s all Mel. She makes everything better. Life without her…” He shakes his head. “Don’t want it.” He takes a lengthy sip from his water bottle. “What about you? Seeing anybody?”

“Eh.”

“Youminx.”

“I said, ‘eh,’ and that convinces you I’m seeing someone?” A breeze would do wonders right about now because my cheeks heat to a billion degrees.

“I can tell you’re not telling me something. I’m good like that.”

“There’s nobody.”

“Bullshit.”

No one cared about my moods in my own household growing up, so Aaron and the Moores took on that responsibility. My best friend has known me for over two decades, and he’s infuriatinglyskilled at sensing when something’s up. But I can’t exactly say,Yeah, so I fingerfucked your sister before dinner last night and the only thing I’ve been able to think about all day is adoring every inch of her insane body with my tongue and having her come on my face, can I?

“So aside from you outright lying to me, you lying liar-face,” he goes on, “why aren’t they here with you?”

My lips twist as I hold back a smile. “It’s new.”

“How new?”

“Very,” I say, knowing that responding with the truth,sixteen hours, will greatly narrow down the list of candidates.

“Tell me about them.”

My stomach turns. Fuck, I don’t like this one bit. I hate lying to my friend and hiding parts of me from him. Lou and I agreed to keep what we’re doing discreet, and that’s the right choice as we start seeing each other. But this right here,thisis why I allowed myself to remain content watching Lou from the sidelines.

Because this is shitty.

I don’t want to lie to him, so I do my best not to. I tell him the truth and hope he’ll forgive me for this lie by omission. “She’s amazing and funny,” I say. “Makes me feel like I’ve never felt before. She’s special, determined, and downright gorgeous. She’s on my mind, always.”

He whistles. “What’s her name?”

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