Matchmaker Mayhem
Chapter 119: The Love Lab – A Scientific Matchmaking Experiment

Chapter 119: The Love Lab – A Scientific Matchmaking Experiment

The venue for the day’s challenge couldn’t have been more different from the serene gardens and soft cherry blossoms of the previous events. The Matchmaker Summit organizers had gone full modern this time—glass walls, sleek white counters, digital monitors blinking like a sci-fi set. Every inch of the room gleamed like a tech company headquarters.

Ava narrowed her eyes as she stepped inside.

"This feels less like a dating challenge and more like a villain’s lair," she muttered.

Ryan, walking beside her in a tailored black button-down and his sleeves rolled up just enough to show off those forearms, whistled low. "Wow. This place screams we’re about to get ethically questionable."

They were greeted by a woman in a lab coat who introduced herself as Dr. Takahashi, the lead researcher of today’s "experiment."

"Today, we’ll explore the science of attraction," she explained with a rehearsed smile. "Pheromones, heart rate sync, scent-based chemistry—all measurable. All real."

Ryan leaned over and stage-whispered, "Bet she’s the type to microchip her date."

Ava elbowed him.

The challenge, as it turned out, was absurdly specific.

Each participant had to engage in a series of controlled tests—one-on-one scent compatibility trials, eye contact timing, skin conductivity readings, and even a blindfolded "emotional resonance" session.

Ava did her part like a pro, guiding her assigned couple through the maze of blinking devices and awkward intimacy exercises.

Ryan?

Ryan got roped into the sensory demo "just for calibration."

That’s when the trouble started.

Because during the pheromone trial—where participants were asked to smell a series of sealed, unlabeled scent cards and indicate which they found most "chemically appealing"—Ryan failed.

Spectacularly.

"None of these smell right," he said flatly, sniffing the last card and wrinkling his nose. "This one smells like regret."

Dr. Takahashi blinked. "Regret?"

"Or maybe stale cologne and poor decisions."

Ava tried not to laugh as Ryan held up the next sample. "This one? Divorce attorney’s office. Circa 2015."

Julian, of course, was watching from the corner, looking deeply unimpressed.

"Perhaps Mr. Kim’s receptors are damaged," he offered loudly.

Ryan gave him a sunny smile. "Or maybe I’m just chemically wired to only be into my fiancée."

A few chuckles rippled through the room.

Ava, flushed and flattered despite herself, raised an eyebrow. "Oh really?"

Ryan shrugged. "What can I say? I’ve been ruined for all other women."

"God help me," Ava muttered, trying not to smile.

Later That Night – The Suite, 34th Floor

The moment they stepped into the suite, Ava kicked off her heels with a dramatic groan and flopped back onto the bed.

"My brain hurts," she groaned. "I don’t want to hear the word ’pheromones’ ever again."

Ryan chuckled, loosening his shirt collar and walking over to stand at the edge of the bed. "You sure? I thought it was kind of fun."

Ava cracked one eye open. "You mocked their science, made Julian twitch, and flirted with me in front of an entire room of professionals. You were thriving."

Ryan leaned down, bracing his hands on either side of her hips. "I always thrive when you’re around."

Ava rolled her eyes, but her pulse quickened when his lips brushed over her cheek. "Don’t."

"Don’t what?" he murmured, trailing a kiss along her jawline.

"You know what."

"I do," he said, voice low. "But I like watching you try to resist."

Ava sat up abruptly and shoved him back a step—only to climb onto his lap a second later, straddling him where he now sat at the foot of the bed.

Ryan let out a soft laugh, hands finding her waist. "Oh. We’re doing this."

"I am chemically wired to you, remember?" Ava whispered, her lips brushing his. "That’s science."

Ryan growled softly, his mouth capturing hers in a kiss that was anything but clinical.

She kissed him like she needed to forget everything but this—his scent, his warmth, the way his fingers tightened on her hips like he couldn’t get enough.

Ryan stood, lifting her effortlessly as he carried her to the bathroom, where the lights were low, the steam already beginning to fog the mirrors.

"You want scent and chemistry?" he murmured. "Let’s give your pheromones something to remember."

Ava laughed—then gasped when the edge of the marble counter met her bare thighs and Ryan’s lips moved lower, trailing a searing path down her neck.

She made a mental note to thank Dr. Takahashi.

Eventually.

When she could speak again.

---

Perfect. Here’s an extended, richly detailed continuation of Chapter 19, following the steamy private moment—with Mei and Harold’s signature chaos crashing in at exactly the wrong time. We’ll keep the sensual tension lingering even as the comedy spirals.

Absolutely! Here’s the revised continuation, seamlessly blending the steamy scene from the previous night into the next morning, keeping the emotional intimacy, sensual tone, and setting in place—before Mei and Harold barge in with their usual chaos.

---

Chapter 19 (Continuation): A Very Good Morning

The night melted into steam and silk, into soft gasps and tangled limbs beneath moonlight filtering through the sheer curtains. Ava’s hands traced the familiar lines of Ryan’s body like a map she already knew by heart, while his mouth worshipped every inch of her with patient, relentless devotion. In the stillness of Tokyo’s quiet hours, their world had narrowed to this bed, this breath, this moment.

By the time dawn crept into the suite, casting golden light across the rumpled sheets, Ava was draped across Ryan’s chest, one leg tangled with his, her hair a wild halo over his skin.

Ryan’s fingers brushed along her spine in lazy, rhythmic strokes, a silent lullaby that kept her right on the edge of sleep.

"You’re staring again," she murmured against his collarbone.

Ryan’s voice was gravelly with sleep and satisfaction. "I have every reason to."

Ava stretched like a cat, muscles sore in all the best ways. "We really didn’t leave anything to the imagination last night."

He grinned, brushing a kiss against her forehead. "You started it."

"You flipped me over."

"You rode me like I was your favorite roller coaster."

Ava huffed, cheeks warm. "Shut up."

Ryan rolled her beneath him again, his weight delicious, his smirk lethal. "Can’t. I’m too busy thinking about round three."

She opened her mouth to protest—but then his hips pressed into hers, slow and deliberate, and the protest turned into a soft gasp.

"You’re insatiable," she muttered, dragging her nails down his back.

He kissed her jaw. "Only for you."

Their lips met again—slow, unhurried, like the sun had nowhere else to be. The kisses were softer this time, sleepy but no less intense. Ryan’s hands slid beneath the sheets, rediscovering familiar territory with practiced ease.

Ava curled into him, half laughing, half breathless. "This isn’t how normal people start their mornings."

Ryan chuckled against her neck. "That’s because normal people don’t wake up with you in their bed."

She rolled her eyes—but then his mouth moved lower and she forgot whatever witty comeback she’d been forming.

Outside, the city stirred.

Inside, Ava was too wrapped up in Ryan to care.

---

The steam curled around them like a veil, soft and golden in the early morning light as Ava clung to Ryan, her back pressed against the warm tiles of the shower. His hands were everywhere—strong, sure, reverent—and every brush of his mouth felt like a promise, one she’d stopped pretending to resist the moment he whispered her name like a prayer.

"Ava..." Ryan’s voice was low, hoarse, rough with want. "You drive me crazy."

She gasped, nails skimming down his slick chest, her lips curving with a dangerous smile. "Then maybe we’re even."

He groaned, pressing a kiss to her neck, then her shoulder, then lower, until Ava arched against him with a soft sound that sent a shiver down his spine.

Everything outside this moment had vanished—no matchmakers, no Julian, no AI algorithms. Just them.

Just heat and hands and kisses.

And then—

BANG BANG BANG.

"AVA! RYAN!" Mei’s voice came loud and chipper from inside their suite. "Breakfast has arrived, and I found the most divine kimono rental service for wedding fittings—"

Ava froze. Ryan froze.

Ava’s mouth dropped open in horror. "Did she just—"

"—and I brought pastries!" came Harold’s voice, a little too cheerful for someone who’d just broken into their grandchild’s hotel room.

Ryan let out a strangled noise. "Tell me this is a fever dream."

Ava smacked a hand against her forehead. "They have a key. Of course they have a key."

More knocking. "Are you two still asleep? You must see these calligraphy samples!"

Ava groaned. "I swear to god, if she picked out invitation fonts again—"

Ryan quickly shut off the water, grabbing towels. "We are never safe."

Ava swore under her breath as Ryan wrapped her in one towel and himself in another, just in time for Mei’s voice to float—closer—through the suite.

"I had the concierge send up extra tea and miso soup! It’s very restorative after, well... physical exertion."

Ryan choked. "Did she just—"

"She knows," Ava hissed, turning bright red.

Harold knocked again. "We’ll just wait by the sitting room!"

"Do not let her touch the minibar," Ava hissed.

Ryan sighed, dropping his forehead to her shoulder. "This is our punishment, isn’t it?"

"For what?"

"For ever thinking we could have five minutes alone."

Ava scowled. "If they’re planning a wedding, I’m planning an escape route."

Ryan leaned in, whispering against her ear, "Or... we could make them wait and finish what we started."

Ava narrowed her eyes. "You’re insane."

He smirked. "And you love me."

A beat of silence.

Then Ava stepped out of the shower, grabbing his hand and dragging him with her.

"Ten more minutes," she growled. "Then I’ll let Mei explain why she thought crashing our morning quickie was appropriate hospitality."

Ryan grinned, already tugging her back toward the bed. "God, I love you."

---

By the time they emerged, hair damp and faces flushed (though Ava swore it was from the humidity), Mei was already pouring tea like a benevolent queen.

"Did you two sleep well?" she asked innocently, her eyes far too knowing.

Ava sat down, snatching a pastry and glaring. "You are banned from entering any hotel room without an engraved invitation."

Mei beamed. "Oh! Funny you mention that. I’ve drafted some!"

Harold raised his cup. "We used red wax seals this time."

Ryan whispered to Ava, "Next time, we elope."

Ava took a long sip of tea and muttered, "Or fake our deaths."

But even with chaos clattering in their wake, Ava couldn’t hide the warmth bubbling beneath her ribcage. Because Ryan, ridiculous and wonderful, still had his hand resting on her thigh beneath the table.

And he didn’t let go.