Page 20 of Matched with the Hollywood Heartthrob (Matched for Love #4)

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.

“Come on.” Denise shocks me again by entwining our hands. “Let’s take a look around.”

I tell myself to focus, to be in the moment. It’s what I need.

“So…” Denise strikes up a conversation as we slowly browse the paintings on the wall. “Mia tells me you’re a painter…”

“Not really. I’m an actor.”

Denise glances at me. “Really?”

I smile. “She didn’t tell you that, huh?”

“No.” She frowns. “What sort of work do you do?”

Seems like when I told Mia I wanted an ordinary girl, she took it literally. Denise doesn’t even know Jack Calloway, the actor. I like that.

“I’m sorry,” she says softly, taking my hesitation the wrong way. “We’re a small town, and I don’t watch movies or use social media apps. I mostly paint, or you’ll find me working in the orphanage in town.”

She seems like a wonderful person, but I fight back a yawn. As the day wears on, I find myself further removed from the date. Denise is nice, but she doesn’t hold my interest, and it’s getting increasingly harder to pretend.

Almost three hours later, just before we go out to grab lunch from one of the food stands outside, Denise stops by another painting. It’s a beautiful representation of a Koi fish.

As Denise explains why it’s one of the most beautiful paintings she’s ever seen, I think to myself how this would make a great gift for Mia. At this moment, I can’t take it anymore.

“Denise.” I cut her short. “I’m so sorry, my head is banging.”

“Oh.” She blinks repeatedly and then smiles. “We have a medic outside. I can?—”

“No,” I answer hastily. Too hastily. “I really should go. I probably just need a nap.”

Hurt flashes in her eyes, and I feel a truckload of guilt, but it’s nothing compared to the relief that flows when she nods and says, “Okay.”

“Thanks. This was wonderful, I promise. Thanks for showing me around.” Before she can respond, I hightail it out of there.

As I step outside and head to my car, I try not to think about the awkwardness of the night. I tried to enjoy myself, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t stop thinking about her—about Mia.

I drive toward town, the thought of stopping by Mia’s flower shop popping into my head. I want to see her. I want to talk to her. At this point, we need a conversation. It’s time she stops running.

I Google the directions to Mia’s flower shop and in a few more minutes, I’m parking my car in front of the large store. It’s a beautiful space, and it shows exactly how successful Mia is. I park and walk to the door, taking in the ambiance around me.

To my left, a bakery with a hand-painted sign fills the air with the smell of fresh cinnamon rolls and croissants.

The scent makes my stomach growl. On the right, a small souvenir shop with colorful trinkets sits at the corner, its door creaking softly as people come and go.

I take in the beauty around me, telling myself to come out more.

There’s a lot to explore in this small town.

When I reach the shop, I hesitate for a moment, my hand on the door handle. I feel like I’m walking into unknown territory. What if she’s upset to see me? What if she asks me to leave? What if she insists that she’s not ready for a conversation?

Before I can talk myself into leaving, I open the door anyway. The bell jingles as I step inside, and I’m greeted by the comforting, familiar scent of fresh flowers.

And then, I see her.

She’s seated in the back, with Ryan across from her. I can’t tell her facial expression because she has her back to me, but judging from the little smile on Ryan’s face, they’re having a little cozy moment.

What exactly is this? Fury bubbles inside of me.

Ryan sees me first, and his answering smile causes Mia to turn her head and catch sight of me. She rushes to her feet, eyes wide.

“Jack? What are you doing here?” she asks.

I force myself to take a step forward, my voice coming out more strained than I intend. “I just came to update you on the date. You know, the one you planned.”

Mia’s eyes flicker, but she doesn’t say anything right away. Instead, she glances at Ryan, who’s still got that stupid grin on his face. I can feel the annoyance rising in my chest.

“Uh, well, I’ll leave you to it,” I mutter, already starting to back away, my hands shoved deep in my pockets.

I turn and leave the shop, not waiting for Mia to say anything else. What could she say that’ll explain the moment? There’s no point. I swallow my disappointment and slam my car door shut before driving off.