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“No, thanks,” she says bluntly, her voice firm and not leaving room for negotiation. She doesn’t even look at her dad as she says it.

Ben seems taken aback for a second, and he looks like he has a lot to say about it, but before he does, I stop him with a smile.

“I’ll come by some other time, Ben. I promise.”

Ben nods, glancing at Mia. “Sure, sure, Jack. You take care.”

“And you too, sir.” I wave Mia off and pull out of the driveway. As I drive, I can’t help but wonder what’s really going on in her head. And, more importantly, what’s going on in mine?

I arrive home and curse my bad luck when I run into Brody lounging on the couch, his eyes glued to the TV. He looks up when he hears me, grinning like he knows something I don’t.

“That was a long date,” he says with a teasing smile. “Someone had a good time.”

I don’t even bother correcting him. The truth is, I spent more time with Mia than I did with Ashley, but it’s not something I’m willing to admit right now.

Instead, I just shrug it off and turn toward my room, not in the mood to entertain Brody’s comments. Brody chuckles, but I don’t look back. As I reach my room door, my hand hoveringover the handle, something stops me. I turn back to Brody, the question I’ve been dying to ask suddenly surfacing in my mind.

“Hey, Brody,” I say, my voice a little quieter than I mean for it to be. “Do you have any idea that Mia used to be sick?”

Brody looks up from the TV, his expression shifting just slightly as he processes the question. “Yeah, I know.”

My curiosity spikes, and I step closer to him, unable to mask the frustration of not having this piece of the puzzle earlier. “How do you know?”

He shrugs casually, leaning back into the couch. “That’s the only reason she accepted this matchmaking job,” he explains. “So Nova can fund her foundation, where she helps kids with leukemia and cancerous illnesses. After doing more research, I found out she actually had leukemia herself when she was younger. That’s the reason she’s so passionate about helping those kids.”

“How come no one told me?” The revelation hits me harder than I expect. Mia, the woman I can’t seem to stop thinking about, has been through something far more intense than I realized. She’s been fighting battles, internal and external, long before I ever came into her life.

“She was pretty clear that she didn’t want you to know. Or anyone, from what I can tell. Nova says she seems incredibly private about it.”

Because she hates the pity. I know that from what she was saying just before we kissed again.

The worst part is that I judged her. She was so adamant about not doing this job, so when I walked into Nova’s office to see herfinally agreeing to it, I shamed her for doing it for the big, fat invoice. She’s doing this not for financial benefits, but for kids like her —kids who need more than just sympathy; they need real help, real people who understand.

I saw those kids today. I played with them. I loved them. I’d love to go back there and even make some donations of my own. I feel a weight in my chest, like I’ve been carrying around a stupid, selfish mindset without realizing it. The anger I had toward her for making me go through this ridiculous matchmaking charade seems so small now. How could I have been so blind?

I run a hand through my hair as I return to my room, frustration bubbling up again. I’m mad at myself. I’m mad at the situation. And most of all, I’m mad at the way she’s been handling everything with so much grace while I’ve just been a total mess.

The guilt gnaws at me, but I can’t seem to escape the thoughts of her. Every moment I spent criticizing her, I can’t help but feel like I’ve wronged her.

I toss and turn in bed, the sheets tangled around my legs as I try to find some kind of rest. But it’s useless. Every time I close my eyes, all I can see is her—her passion for the foundation, her strength, the way she looked at me earlier today, the way she kissed me. With so much passion.

I realize I’ve been avoiding the truth, trying to convince myself I don’t care about her, when in reality, she’s been slipping under my skin for days. Maybe it’s more than just the attraction I’ve been fighting. Maybe I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.

And the worst part is, I’m not even sure what to do with all these feelings. I’m not even sure if I can fix the mess I’ve made with her.

The thought of it keeps me awake, and I finally give up on sleep altogether, tossing back the covers and sitting up in bed, staring out the window at the moonlit sky.

MIA

It’s the weekend, and Emma and I are in Riley’s hardware store, wandering through the aisles like we’re on some sort of domestic adventure. We’re in the small appliances section, standing between rows of dishwashers and microwaves, and all I can think about is Jack.

I pick up a box for a blender, stare at it for a second, and put it back, not really caring. Emma catches my eye, a smirk playing on her lips as she watches me.

“You’re not looking at those, are you?” she asks, raising an eyebrow. I can tell she’s already figured out what’s been on my mind.

I sigh, dropping the blender box and running my hands over my face. “Remind me why I’m here again,” I say jokingly, earning me a laugh.

“Don’t tell me you pulled me out of my house this early in the morning—when I should still be in bed with my husband—and you don’t remember what you came here to buy?”