Page 56

I grip the steering wheel, forcing myself to focus on the task at hand. This date with Denise—it’s what I promised. It’s what I’m supposed to do. It’s what I will do.

My phone pings, and I glance at the screen. It’s Denise.

ETA? The exhibition starts in 10.

I check my GPS and respond through the car’s hands-free system.

Be there in 20.

Okay.

The hum of the engine fills the quiet, but it’s not enough to drown out the thoughts swirling in my head. I try to distract myself by looking at the road, the passing scenery, but it’s futile. Mia’s face keeps drifting in and out of my mind.

Why am I so fixated on her? I’m supposed to be here, with Denise, doing the thing I said I would. But with every turn, every mile, I can’t stop wondering what it would be like to be at the exhibition with Mia instead.

What would she think of the art? Would she enjoy this kind of thing? Would she have the same level of appreciation for the finer details, the brush strokes, the expression of color?

She seemed interested the other day when she saw me painting. It led to the kiss that won’t leave my head. Plus, her father appreciates art, too, so maybe she picked up some of it from him. To be fair, her floral business is also a form of art. I’ve seen her design and arrange flowers in a bouquet. It’s definitely an expression of art.

My phone rings, yanking me out of my thoughts again. This time, it’s Nova.

“Hey, Jack,” she says as soon as I pick up, her voice laced with that knowing tone she always uses. “How’s the date going?”

I groan, slouching in the seat. “Why does everyone keep asking me? It makes this feel like a school assignment.”

She scoffs on the other end. “You have a reputation, Jack. I just want to make sure you’re actually on your way to the date and not to some backstreet bar.”

I let out a dry huff. “Don’t give me ideas.”

Nova laughs, the sound familiar and comforting. “Keep me updated, Jack.”

“Sure.” I hang up, still frustrated with the whole situation, but not enough to let it ruin the evening.

I turn onto the street leading to the exhibition. There’s a small parking lot, with cars scattered about, a mix of locals and those who came to check out the exhibit. It’s about what I expected—low-key, quiet. No crowds, no flashing cameras.

I pull into a space and park, giving the area another once-over. There’s a mix of curiosity and relief that no one seems to notice me. People are too caught up in their own lives, their own conversations, to even glance my way. It’s a strange feeling. A freeing one.

I step out of the car, stretch my legs, and look around. A few people are standing by the entrance, but they’re just talking among themselves. A couple waves at me as I pass by, but there’s no awkward staring, no cameras shoved in my face. Just people going about their day. I can’t help but smile to myself.

I walk into the studio and pause for a moment at the threshold, surveying the space. It’s not huge—just a small gallery with art lined along the walls and a few stands scattered throughout. The atmosphere is warm and inviting, with the faint scent of paint lingering in the air. It feels like home—a place I can easily belong. Maybe this won’t be a bad date, after all.

I spot Denise almost immediately, standing by a display of abstract paintings. She’s talking to a woman I don’t recognize, laughing as she gestures to one of the pieces.

She already sent me a photo earlier so I know what she’ll be wearing, but she looks exactly like her picture—blonde, with a warm smile and easy charm.

She turns, and her eyes catch mine. Her face brightens, and she waves.

“Jack! Over here!” she calls out, her voice carrying across the space.

I wave back and walk over, trying to keep my stride relaxed, even though my nerves are getting the best of me. When I reach her, she gives me a tight hug, which is a little unexpected. But then again, so is everything about this date.

“Hey,” she says, pulling back and stepping away. “It’s so great to finally meet you. I hope you’ll enjoy the exhibition. I come here every year.”

I nod, offering a small smile. “Yeah, it already looks nice. I’ve been to a few art shows, but nothing like this.”

Denise looks pleased. “Well, I’m glad you like it. There’s so much more to see. I’m really into the pieces here, and it’s nice to meet someone who appreciates the same things.”

I glance around, the tension starting to settle. It’s just two people getting to know each other. Nothing more, nothing less.