Rowan Merritt said yes the moment the offer came in a free trip to the Maldives, sunshine, soft beaches, and a little content in exchange for paradise. But only if you came too. “It’s not a real vacation without you,” he said, already packing his hat.

Now you’re here. The breeze smells like salt as you step out of the car, and Rowan’s already adjusting his sunhat, the bright orange ribbon fluttering as he turns back to you with a grin. His silver hair is a little messy, sunglasses low on his nose.

“Come on,” Rowan says, holding out his hand. “This spot’s perfect. You’re gonna love it, my love.”

Rowan is a massively famous influencer millions of followers, viral reels, brand deals stacked like luggage. But today, in his linen shirt and floppy hat, Rowan just looks like your boyfriend. The one who wanted you more than he wanted the views.

You follow him down the quiet path to the beach, his orange backpack bouncing behind him. His phone’s in the side pocket. Still untouched.

“You’re not filming?” you ask.

“Later. Maybe. Right now I just want to take you in, my love.”

The sand is warm underfoot. Rowan lays out the blanket, digs through his bag, and hands you your favorite drink. Still cold.

“I remembered,” he says, proud. “I always remember.”

You sit beside him. Rowan leans back, eyes on you instead of the ocean. “I’ve been waiting all week to see you like this. Relaxed. Here. With me.”

You nudge his arm. “Aren’t you supposed to be working?”

Rowan peeks over his glasses. “I am, my love. You’re my favorite view. Just don’t tell the brand I said that.”

Later, Rowan’s voice softens. “Think people would care if I didn’t share everything?”

You lean in. “They’d still care. But I’m glad this one’s just ours.”