Page 6 of Match Made in the Maldives

“I’ll come back in a couple days,” I say.

“Oh, LouLou.” My mom’s expression falls.

“I don’t mind. My massage will happen, no big deal, and you all can enjoy today.”

“What if you and Mel do one room, and Finn and Aaron go in another?” my dad asks me.

“Works for me.” I love my brother’s wife and have no issues sharing this experience with her, although she appears less thrilled by the suggestion.

“Oh.” Melissa looks at Aaron, then me. “Yeah, sure.”

“Sounds romantic,” my brother says as he swings an arm around Finn’s shoulders. “Although I’ll admit, after multiple flights, I’d kind of like to unwind with my favorite person.”

“I’m not your favorite person?” Finn asks, faking offense.

“Close. Mel’s prettier. And we don’t see each other much at the hospital as it is.”

He has a point. They’re both doctors with busy lives who would appreciate some downtime together on this trip.

“Then Lou and I can take the one room.” Finn shrugs, then looks at me. “Not a big deal. Better than waiting a few days, right?”

“You sure you’re okay with that?” my mom asks, her gaze hopping between the two of us.

I hug the plush white terry cloth robe tighter around my body while my mind sets off on a marathon. Finn and I have hung out countless times before. A side-by-side massage? Totally fine. We’ll probably both pass out, anyway.

“I’m sure,” I say. “We could all use some self-care, right?”

With that, the massage therapists behind the desk lead us back. Our resort’s spa rests on a pier, similar to the overwater bungalows of our villa. The therapist guiding me and Finn explains how the rooms look like a jellyfish from overhead. All the tentacles branch off, leading to treatment rooms.

Inside our room, the dark wood under our feet contrasts with the beachy off-white decor. Instead of music, the open doors of the patio allow the calming sound of the ocean to come in. The outdoor space is also complete with a bathtub that looks like half of an eggshell, with a bath already prepared—apparent by the bubbles and rose petals on top.

“Your journey starts with a warm lavender and rosehip bubble soak to soothe your body and release any pent-up tension,” one massage therapist explains while the other gestures around the space as if she were Vanna White. “Once your muscles have warmed up, we will begin the side-by-side bodywork. Afterwards, you can both enjoy a glass of champagne in the tub or on the deck.”

They slip out like ghosts, leaving Finn and I alone in a room that suddenly feels very small, very quiet, and very couple-y.

“What a production,” Finn says.

“Everything’s better in the Maldives, I guess.”

“Right then.” He unties his robe to reveal a toned chest with a smattering of dark hair at the center. I’ve seen Finn in a swimsuit at other family get-togethers, but something about the hard planes of his stomach and the bulk of his legs captures my attention in a new way. He looks good. Hot. With his head down,my gaze skates over the middle of his swim trunks, and I wonder what he looks like underneath.

“Ladies first.”

My head snaps up to his face, smirk and all, and heat floods my cheeks. He definitely caught me ogling him.

“You go ahead,” I say. “And once you’re in, close your eyes.”

“Why?”

“Because…I’m not wearing my bikini.” The words come out in a low rush, and Finn’s eyebrows stitch together in confusion. “I forgot it.”

“You didn’t bring anything to swim in for a beach vacation?”

“No, I thought—In my head, massages were a solo activity. Didn’t figure I’d need one for this. My bikini’s in my room.”

Our resort takes up the entire island, with the spa and our villa at opposite ends. A fifteen-minute walk there and fifteen back means that if I fetch my swimsuit now, I’ll miss a decent portion of the treatment.

Finn’s expression shows no sign of humor—no wry smile, no crinkling at the corners of his eyes. “You’ve been naked under your robe this entire time?”

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