Page 14 of Matched with the Hollywood Heartthrob (Matched for Love #4)

MIA

A week has passed, and I haven’t heard from Jack. Or, maybe it’s better to say I haven’t reached out to him. Either way, the silence stretches between us like an uncomfortable gap I’m not sure I’m ready to cross.

I tell myself I’m still busy compiling a list of names, trying to come up with the perfect match for him, but that’s not true.

I’ve already compiled a list and sent it to Nova for confirmation.

We’ve already had the girls sign an NDA, and all that’s left is for Jack to learn about it.

Deep down, I know the real reason I haven’t gone to see him—haven’t checked in on him—is because I’m not ready to face him.

The weird reaction I had when he made me wear his shirt still haunts me.

The way my heart sped up, the way I felt strangely exposed, and how I couldn’t get the image of him looking at me out of my head.

I hated how his presence left me feeling unsettled, but I didn’t want to think about it.

I had to push it aside. Jack Calloway isn’t the kind of guy who should make someone like me feel this way.

I’m way too aware of the type of man that he is. I should be smarter. He’s literally here because he slept with a married woman!

And it’s not like I totally brought him over to my town and ignored him.

No. I see Brody around town a lot. He’s been getting acquainted with some of the locals, chatting with anyone who crosses his path, and I find myself liking him more and more.

There’s something easygoing about Brody.

He doesn’t make my heart speed up. He doesn’t make me lose my breath.

It’s easy to talk to him without feeling like I’m about to get tongue-tied.

He’s nothing like Jack.

As news spreads around Bardstown that a celebrity is in town, people are excited.

They want to know who Jack is, what he’s doing here, and why he’s staying in a small town like ours.

I’ve made sure to let anyone who comes into my shop for flowers know that they should keep their mouths shut.

No posting about him online, no gushing about the famous actor in town.

I’ve told them all the same thing—Jack is here to lay low, so let’s treat him like everyone else.

Don’t act like you know him. Don’t act like he’s anything special.

I’m doing this because I want to show him that no one here cares about who he is.

The minute he steps off that high pedestal, the better for everyone.

Bardstown isn’t Hollywood. He’s just another person here.

He’s not special, not to us. At least, that’s how I want him to feel.

But deep down, the part of me that’s honest with myself knows that I’m doing this mainly because I want to protect Jack’s privacy.

There are already too many rumors and news about him; he deserves quiet.

And then there’s my mother. She may not have known Jack prior, but the excitement in town has gotten to her, and now she wants to meet him. Imagine telling me to bring him over for dinner. Why would I even do that? What message would that send to him?

I’m wrapping a bouquet of daisies for a customer at the shop counter when Emma walks in. She’s wearing her usual warm smile and holding a sweet-smelling confectionery box.

“Emma, I love you.” I immediately drop my task and reach for the box. It’s almost evening, and I didn’t even have breakfast. It was rush hour today, and I’m just getting to breathe.

“You were hungry?”

“Yes.” I sink my teeth into a doughnut. “Haven’t had much time to myself today.”

“Why didn’t you call?” she asks. “I’d have brought food earlier. I’m on my way home and decided to drop by.”

“Way home? It’s a little early.”

A blush creeps up her cheeks as she sits, and I know she’s about to talk about Sam. “Sam said he had a surprise waiting,” she answers. “He said to be home by five, and it’s four-thirty.”

I roll my eyes. “You both act like children sometimes.”

“Oh, someone’s in a dirty mood,” she laughs. “Is this about Jack? How’s it going with him?”

The doughnut almost turns sour in my mouth. “Why do you think this is about him?”

“I’m just asking.” She shrugs casually.

I’ve been avoiding the subject of Jack for days now because I know Emma sees me more than I see myself. “He’s fine, I guess. I haven’t seen him since the day we flew in.”

Emma gasps, her hand flying to cover her mouth. “Mia!”

“Oh, you know. I’ve been busy,” I say casually, trying to play it cool. “Compiling a list of women who could be good matches for him. It’s taking longer than expected.”

Emma doesn’t buy it for a second. She raises an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “Mia, you’ve been avoiding him, haven’t you?”

I freeze. My instinct is to lie, but Emma knows me too well. She sees through the facade I’ve been trying to put up.

“Look,” I say, feigning indifference, “I’ve been busy. There’s a lot to think about. A lot to organize. Jack’s not my priority.”

“Well, he should be,” she answers. “You’re being paid a huge sum of money to do this. Think about the leukemia organization. This is for a good cause.”

Emma steps closer, her expression softening. “Mia,” she says quietly, “You’ve been avoiding him because you’re scared, haven’t you?”

I laugh, but it sounds a little too sharp. “Scared? Please. I’m not scared of Jack. I’m just… busy.”

Emma isn’t convinced. “You know, there’s this thing. A thin line between love and hate,” she says with a teasing smile. “And right now, I think you’re on the other side of that line.”

The words hang between us, and I can’t stop the way my pulse quickens. “Love? Are you kidding me?” I say, almost choking on the word. “No way. I can’t stand Jack, and the last thing I’m going to do is fall for someone like him.”

Emma just watches me, her gaze soft but knowing.

“Well, all I’m saying is, Mia, sometimes you have to stop running from what’s right in front of you.

You can’t keep pretending this isn’t something more.

You’ve never been this way with anyone. You always have a way of softening up even the most infuriating person in the universe. Why’s Jack different?”

I open my mouth to protest, but the words don’t come out. Instead, I sit there, my heart pounding, trying to make sense of what Emma’s suggesting. Falling for Jack? That’s absurd. It can’t happen. I won’t let it.

“Well,” I finally say, breaking the silence, “I’m still going to help him find the perfect woman. That’s the plan. It’s what I’m here to do.”

Emma gives me a skeptical look, but she doesn’t press it. “When are you going to go see him?” she asks, not letting me off the hook. “You can’t avoid him forever, you know.”

I take a deep breath, biting my lip. “I’ll go this evening. After my trip to the hospital,” I say finally. “I’ll check in and see how he’s doing. It’s about time.”

Emma smirks, clearly pleased. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

I roll my eyes, but I’m grateful for her support.

As much as I want to pretend I don’t care about Jack Calloway, something inside me keeps pulling me back into this tangled web.

Maybe it’s curiosity. Maybe it’s something else entirely.

But I’m going to face him. Whether I’m ready or not.

There’s nothing to be wary of. I’m in control here. Not him. This is my turf.

Later that evening, I walk into the hospital with mixed feelings. I try to see the kids at least once a week, on weekends. I saw them a few days ago, and the only reason I’m here right now is because I’m stalling. But it doesn’t matter because the kids will be excited anyway.

The farther I walk down the halls, the easier it is to concentrate on the kids and forget everything else.

The leukemia foundation I started a few years ago is very close to my heart, even if it’s a constant reminder of what I used to suffer.

The walls here are familiar and comforting.

Something about these kids makes everything else fade into the background, their smiles and optimism pushing away my worries.

I make my way through the hospital corridors, greeting the nurses who know me well. When I step into the ward, the kids’ faces light up. Their energy is contagious. Even on their hardest days, they manage to smile, and I always feel like I’m the lucky one to be in their presence.

I approach the first bed, where a little girl named Sophie is sitting up, playing with a toy. Her wide blue eyes greet me, and she giggles when she sees me.

“Mia!” she calls, holding up her stuffed bear. “I got a new friend! Her name’s Sparkles. Can you guess what color her fur is?”

I smile, sitting down beside her bed. “I’m going to guess… pink?”

She shakes her head, grinning. “Nope! It’s rainbow-colored! Isn’t that cool?”

“Wow,” I laugh. “Sparkles must be the coolest bear in the whole world.”

Sophie nods earnestly, her tiny fingers holding the bear close. “She’s my magic bear. She makes me feel better when the doctors poke me. She doesn’t like the needles.”

I rub her hand gently. “I understand, Sophie. I don’t like needles either, but you’re so brave. You remind me of a superhero.”

Her eyes widen, and she beams. “Do you think I can be a superhero, too?”

“Absolutely,” I say with conviction. “You’ve got the power inside you to do anything you set your mind to.”

She grins and squeezes the bear, her little hands strong despite the odds. We chat for a while, and I share a laugh with her before moving on.

I walk down the row of beds, stopping to check on a few more kids, each with their own unique stories. One boy, Luke, is lying in his bed with a set of colorful markers in his hands. He’s busy drawing a picture of a dragon on a piece of paper.

“Hey there, Luke,” I say, sitting on the edge of his bed. “What’s your dragon’s name?”

He looks up, his face lighting up. “Oh! His name is Fuego! He’s got fire in his belly. That’s why he’s so fierce.”

I laugh. “He sounds amazing. Does Fuego have any friends?”

Luke nods, his expression serious. “Yeah, he’s got a sidekick named Cloudy. Cloudy is a big, fluffy dragon that can turn into a cloud and float everywhere.”

“That’s awesome!” I say. “What do you think they do together? Do they go on adventures?”

Luke’s eyes light up, and he starts talking animatedly about Fuego and Cloudy’s epic journey to find the Lost Island, where magical creatures live.

As he talks, his voice grows louder, and the room seems brighter.

I can’t help but admire his imagination.

He’s fighting a battle no child should have to face, but his spirit is unbreakable.

Before I leave the ward, I check in with the nurses and make sure everything is running smoothly.

As I walk out, I feel a sense of peace, knowing that, despite the weight these kids carry, their smiles and laughter fill the air like the strongest kind of medicine.

My heart also has a deep sense of satisfaction, knowing that I’m doing all I can for them.

I make my way to the car, my heart full but heavy. I think about how life has changed for them, how they’ve learned to fight when it seems like there’s no way out. I try to channel some of their strength as I drive to Jack’s cottage.

By the time I reach the house, my mind is back on my task, but the encounter with the kids lingers with me, reminding me of the bigger picture. Jack’s drama feels trivial in comparison.

I park the car and walk up to the front door, where I see Brody inside, absorbed in his laptop. I knock lightly, and he looks up, grinning.

“Hey Mia,” he greets. “I haven’t seen you here in like a week!”

I laugh. “I’ve been busy, but it’s not like I didn’t see you yesterday. Where’s Jack?”

“Somewhere in the backyard.”

“Okay. I’ll be right back.” I’m already stalking toward the back door.

The backyard door creaks open, and I step outside.

I freeze when I see him. There, in the warm evening light, Jack is shirtless, standing tall with a paintbrush in his hand, the canvas in front of him coming to life with each stroke.

His broad back is exposed, and I can’t help but pause for a moment, taking in the sight before me. He moves fluidly, absorbed in his art, and for a brief second, I forget why I came here. The scene feels intimate, as if I’m intruding on something personal.

I stand there, hidden from his view, taking in the way he works. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but something shifts in me. Jack is different here, like he’s shedding the layers of fame, the persona everyone expects, and showing a side of himself I didn’t know existed.

My thoughts are a jumble, but I can’t tear my eyes away. He looks beautiful, unforgettable. I tell myself I was right to have stayed away—because this scene may have changed me forever.