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But he doesn’t back off. He’s persistent, leaning in a little. “Come on, just a minute,” he pleads, his hand resting gently on my shoulder.

I shake my head, pulling away from him. “I’m done with this, Ryan. Don’t make this harder than it already is.”

He doesn’t understand that the only thing holding me together right now is a thread of control, and it’s very much close to snapping with how incessant he is. I’ve always wondered what would happen and how it would play out if Ryan returned to Bardstown or I saw him again. I know I’ve moved on, but sometimes, these thoughts pop up.

I still have love for him, but nothing like he’s looking for, and I think it has something to do with the celebrity in town. I don’t want this, but I don’t know how to stop it. I turn and walk back into the house, leaving him standing there. I don’t have the strength or emotional ability to return home alone tonight, so I steer down the hall toward my childhood bedroom.

I don’t even know what’s going on anymore, but I do know one thing: Jack Calloway is a mess, and somehow, I’m the one tangled up in it.

JACK

It’s been a few days since the cursed dinner at Mia’s family’s house, and I can’t stop thinking about her. I haven’t been able to think about anything else since that night. Mia. The way she sat at the table like she would rather be anywhere else. How she stiffly ate her food. How she deliberately avoided Ryan. It may seem like she’s not keen on him, but I can tell there’s something there. She’s putting so much effort into avoiding him, which means he’s still on her mind.

And then there’s Ryan. I’ve never hated someone on the spot. Okay, I’ve hated a few, but Ryan takes the top spot.

Every time I think about Ryan, I can feel my blood boiling. I saw the way he looked at her tonight. The way he stared into her soul. Like he’s trying to claim her again. It annoys me more than I can say. And the worst part? I don’t even know if Mia wants him back. Maybe she does, who knows?

For some reason, the thought of her with Ryan sets off a fury in me that I can’t explain. The fury increases when I realize I haveno business being furious. I mean, it’s Mia we’re talking about. I don’t care! I shouldn’t care!

And should I report her to Nova? Because I’ve been here for almost two weeks, and she’s only been here a handful of times. She’s starting to mix personal feelings with business, and I don’t like that at all.

My date with Denise is soon, and I still don’t have my itinerary. I know it’ll be at an art exhibition in the next town over, but I literally don’t know where it is or what to expect. How am I supposed to go on such a date?

I’m sitting there, mindlessly flipping through TV channels, when I hear the door open. I glance away from the screen, only to see Brody walk in, looking excited and carrying bags. His face is all lit up, and I wonder why, since he’s returning from grocery shopping. He’s probably got a girlfriend or something in town. I won’t be surprised.

“Guess what, man?” he says, dropping his bags onto the couch. His excitement is so obvious, it practically vibrates the air around him.

I raise an eyebrow. “What’s got you so worked up, Brody?”

“I had a fun time in town today,” he says. “I hung out a bit in Mia’s flower shop and then went to the park. Have you been there? It has a wonderful view,” he sighs. “Oh, and Mia has a message for you.”

I don’t know why, but the mention of Mia sends a strange pulse of tension through me. I sit up. “What?”

He hands me the envelope. “She says to give this to you. It’s everything you’ll need for your first date.”

I take the envelope from him, a slight hesitation in my movement. My gut tightens as I open it. Inside, I find a picture of Denise. She’s pretty. Blonde, blue eyes, soft smile. She looks sweet, but I don’t feel anything.

I push the photo to the side and pull out a folded sheet of paper. The address of the studio where the art exhibition will take place is written down, along with a few other minor details—Denise’s favorite flowers, what she likes to talk about, that sort of thing.

I read over the details. It’s everything I need, but something about the whole thing still feels off. It’s like I’m going through the motions, checking off boxes without actually being invested in any of it. The thought of being there with Denise feels distant—like I’m just pretending.

I glance over at Brody, who’s watching me carefully. I know he’s dying to ask about the date.

“Did she say anything else?” I ask, keeping my voice neutral.

Brody shrugs, clearly not reading my mood. “Nope. That was it. Just the details, and a picture to get you ready for the date.”

I rub my face, still trying to shake off the nagging frustration inside me. I look at the photo again. Denise is cute, I guess.

Brody grins at the picture. “She’s pretty.”

“She is. But I’m not sure I’m feeling it.”

Brody sighs, clearly sensing the change in my mood. “You’re not even giving her a chance. You might surprise yourself.”

“Maybe,” I mutter.

But as I keep staring at the picture of Denise, I can’t help but think about Mia. I’m supposed to be focusing on this date, onmoving on, but everything I do just keeps bringing me back to her.