My Phony Valentine (Holidays with Hart, #1)

by Courtney Walsh

At that moment, Dallas grabs my hand and tugs me toward him. He takes my face in his hands and kisses me like his life depends on it.

He takes a breath. “And I can deal with that, if I have you to come home to.”

“I’m only thinking about what I’ll gain.” “Which is what?” “You,” he says simply. “You are all I want.”

And then, the music starts, and in .3 seconds I recognize the song. The opening lick of “Kiss You” by One Direction is forever burned into my brain, a core memory that still haunts me.

I squint up and see Dallas standing at the center of it. Next to him are Jericho, Kemp, Krush, and Junior. And as soon as the first verse starts, all five of them start to dance. Their moves are choreographed. They have parts. They shake their hips and lip sync along with the boy band like they’re going to be judged for their performance, and there’s a Stanley Cup on the line.

Dallas holds up a huge poster board sign with the words Let Me Kiss You, Poppy, at the Festival of Hearts handwritten in thick black marker.

“Because,” he says, “you fit.” I fit.