Matchmaker Mayhem
Chapter 121: The Speed Date Tower – 100 Matches in One Night

Chapter 121: The Speed Date Tower – 100 Matches in One Night

The towering event hall in central Tokyo had been transformed into a matchmaking labyrinth—a shimmering maze of silk-draped booths, glowing lanterns, and winding partitions that turned the space into something between a romance-themed escape room and a speed dating battlefield.

Ava stood at the heart of it all, blinking up at the twenty floors of open balconies above. Each balcony level, each booth, each table, was filled with singles from across Japan, ready for their shot at love. The challenge? Match one hundred compatible couples by the end of the night.

One hundred.

Ava exhaled slowly, her fingers gripping the edge of her clipboard. "This is insane."

Ryan, beside her in a sharp navy blazer and open-collared white shirt, glanced up at the chaos with a crooked smile. "It’s not that bad."

Ava shot him a look. "You say that because you’re not the one coordinating a hundred people and their emotional baggage in less than six hours."

He leaned in, lips brushing her temple. "You’re the best matchmaker in the business. You’ve got this."

Ava groaned. "You keep saying that, but I’m ninety percent sure my brain is already melting."

From across the room, Mei waved enthusiastically, holding a megaphone that looked far too dangerous in her hands. Harold was beside her, wearing an event badge that read: ’Logistics Manager / Chaos Containment Specialist.’

Ryan snorted. "At least we have the Dream Team."

Ava muttered, "More like the Scream Team."

"Welcome to the Matchmaker’s Speed Date Tower!" Mei’s voice rang through the hall with terrifying energy. "Our challenge tonight: each team must match 100 participants before midnight. Each pairing must pass the Compatibility Bell Test. If it rings, the match counts. If it doesn’t, you try again. Good luck, matchmakers! The countdown begins in three—two—one—GO!"

The lights dimmed. Dramatic music flared.

And chaos exploded.

People flooded the corridors, searching for their assigned booths. Attendants in themed uniforms carried water, snacks, and tissues like battlefield medics. Someone shouted about misprinted nametags. A woman dropped her folder, scattering profiles like confetti.

Ava was instantly swarmed.

"Excuse me, I think my match has the wrong form—"

"Can I swap seats with booth 17B? My ex is across from me."

"Do you know where the Compatibility Bell is?"

Ava held up her clipboard like a sword, commanding the crowd with practiced control. "Everyone, breathe. Let’s sort this one floor at a time!"

Ryan, watching with admiration and amusement, slipped behind the booth she was organizing and whispered, "This is weirdly hot."

"Not the time, Kim," Ava hissed, even as her lips twitched.

He winked. "Just saying."

An hour in, sweat beaded at her temple, but Ava was in the zone—checking notes, adjusting pairings, reading expressions and body language like a master strategist.

Booth 12B rang the bell.

Booth 8C rang.

Ava spun, pointing at a woman lingering near the entrance. "You—yes, you with the black dress. Go to 10A. I’ve got someone perfect for you."

Ryan brought her water like a devoted assistant, occasionally leaning in to murmur something encouraging—or wicked.

"You know, if you hit fifty matches before ten, I’ll reward you," he whispered against her ear.

Ava narrowed her eyes. "Bribery?"

He kissed her temple. "Incentives."

They reached the halfway mark by 9 PM. The air was thick with heat and laughter and emotional whiplash.

Julian, of course, was watching from a second-floor booth like a smug hawk. His assistants buzzed around him with tablets and predictive data sheets.

"Try booth 15C. Our algorithm shows a 91.3% compatibility," one said.

Julian sneered as the bell failed to ring.

Ryan, grinning, leaned over the edge and called up, "Maybe round it up to 100% with some charm, Ashcroft."

Julian shot him a death glare. "Go back to law school, Kim."

Ryan waved cheerfully.

As the clock ticked toward the final hour, Ava’s team had matched eighty-two couples.

Ava’s brain was buzzing, her heart racing. "Okay, okay—thirty-eight more. We can do this."

Mei appeared beside her, flinging an arm around Ava’s shoulders. "You’re a matchmaking goddess, darling."

Harold added, "I’ve been tracking bell rings. You’re leading by nine."

Ava blinked. "We’re winning?"

Ryan grinned. "Of course we are."

With renewed energy, Ava powered through the final hour—analyzing, pairing, guiding people into their booths like a maestro conducting a love symphony.

At 11:58 PM, the final bell rang.

One hundred matches.

Mei screamed. Harold cried. Someone threw confetti.

Ava stood at the center of the room, panting slightly, her hands on her hips.

Ryan came up behind her and wrapped her in his arms. "You did it."

Ava leaned back against his chest, exhausted but glowing. "We did it."

Ryan kissed her neck. "Best reward now?"

Ava sighed contentedly. "A bath, silence, and you."

He nuzzled her ear. "Coming right up."

As the ballroom emptied and the lights dimmed, the winning matchmaker duo walked out hand-in-hand, ready to take their victory—and each other—back to the suite.

Tokyo wasn’t done with them yet.

But for tonight?

They had won the battle of the bells.

---

The Speed Date Tower was finally over.

Ava barely remembered how she made it to the elevator, her limbs heavy with exhaustion, her brain fogged by the sheer chaos of the event. One hundred matches in a single night. Her voice was hoarse from smiling, guiding, solving last-minute conflicts, redirecting guests, and pretending like everything was going smoothly even when it absolutely wasn’t.

But she did it.

And now, she was ready to collapse.

When the elevator doors slid open at the top-floor suite, Ava stepped inside on autopilot. The scent of cherry blossom bath salts hit her first—sweet, calming, floral. The soft sound of instrumental jazz floated from somewhere deeper in the room, and the lights had been dimmed to a warm, golden glow.

She blinked slowly. "What...?"

Ryan appeared from the bathroom, shirtless, towel slung casually over his shoulder, like some smug domestic fantasy come to life.

"Welcome back, Miss Matchmaker," he said, his voice low and smooth. "Your recovery spa awaits."

Ava groaned, dropping her clutch onto the nearest chair. "If you’re about to suggest yoga or meditation, I swear to god—"

"Nope," Ryan said, walking up behind her. "I’m suggesting this instead."

He gently peeled her jacket from her shoulders, letting it fall onto the back of the couch, and guided her toward the bathroom. Steam curled out from the cracked doorway, and inside, the oversized soaking tub was already filled—bubbles rising to the surface, candles flickering along the tiled edge. A tray sat across the tub with strawberries, a glass of champagne, and a fluffy towel embroidered with the hotel’s logo.

Ava turned to him, blinking. "You did all this?"

Ryan stepped closer, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek. "You saved Tokyo tonight. Let me save you for the next hour."

Her throat tightened, and for once, she had no quip ready.

He helped her out of her dress, slow and patient, letting each movement speak for itself. When she stepped into the bath, the warmth wrapped around her like a second skin. She let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding, sinking deeper into the water.

Ryan knelt beside the tub, trailing his fingers lazily over her arm. "You okay?"

Ava opened one eye. "Better now."

"Good," he said, voice dipping. "Because I’m not done."

When the water cooled, he helped her out, wrapping her in a thick towel before lifting her effortlessly into his arms. She let her head rest against his shoulder as he carried her to the bed, where soft sheets and even softer hands awaited.

Ryan massaged her shoulders first, kneading out every knot with practiced strokes. His fingers trailed down her spine, coaxing out every bit of tension until Ava was pliant beneath his touch, her breath soft and slow.

And then?

The towel slipped.

Ryan kissed the back of her neck, a slow, reverent drag of lips against her skin. "Still feel like collapsing?"

Ava turned just enough to meet his gaze, her eyes darker now, slower. "Maybe. But only under you."

Ryan’s smile was pure heat.

He climbed onto the bed, settling above her with careful, aching slowness, as if savoring the gravity between them. His weight pressed into the mattress, warm and solid, grounding her. Ava lay back against the cool silk sheets, her skin still flushed from the bath, her breath catching as he hovered over her—his gaze sweeping across her body like a reverent vow.

His mouth found hers—unhurried, hungry—like a man starving for something only she could give. The kiss was deep, drawn-out, a lazy exploration of lips and tongue that made Ava melt into the bed, made her toes curl, made her forget everything except the shape of his mouth on hers. His hand slid along the curve of her waist, fingers spreading wide as if he wanted to memorize every inch of her.

A soft gasp escaped her lips when his palm skimmed beneath the towel, mapping the path of her hipbone, drawing slow, teasing lines against her thigh. Ryan’s other hand braced beside her head, holding his weight as he dipped lower, trailing hot kisses down her jaw, her throat, the space just beneath her collarbone that always made her shiver.

The scent of warm skin and the faint trace of cherry blossoms from her bath clung to the air. The city glowed behind them, forgotten, as his mouth returned to hers with renewed purpose—tasting, claiming, promising.

Ava arched beneath him, her hands threading into his damp hair, tugging him closer, desperate for more. Ryan groaned low in his chest, and the sound was like fire under her skin.

When his hips pressed flush to hers, slow and deliberate, Ava’s breath hitched sharply, and her fingers dug into his back. She could feel every inch of him—heat and want and restraint slipping thread by thread.

The moment pulsed between them.

And Ryan?

He kissed her again, deeper this time, until there was no more space, no more thought—only the rush of skin against skin, breath shared, and the exquisite build of something that felt like falling and flying at the same time.

Later, with the city lights glinting off the windows and Ryan curled around her, Ava exhaled, the adrenaline of the night finally releasing.

She had survived Tokyo’s most chaotic challenge yet.

But here?

In this moment?

She was exactly where she wanted to be.

Wrapped in him.