My Phony Valentine (Holidays with Hart, #1)
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Read between May 12 - May 13, 2024
1%
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“Poppy Hart, is that you?”
2%
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I do a slow turn and force myself to be nice. “Sure is, Margot.” Even her name in my mouth tastes like week-old milk. “It sure is!” she repeats back, as if she didn’t hear me at all. “Poppy Hart. You look—” she gives me a familiar once-over, as if searching her Rudeness Rolodex for the perfect insult—“healthy.” Margot Richards, everyone.
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I glance at the line. It’s moving as fast as a sloth on Benadryl.
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She places a hand over where a normal person’s heart would be, as if there wasn’t just a gaping black soul-sucking cavity there.
15%
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My arms are loaded with supplies. I’m a one-trip person. I’ll cut off circulation in my forearms before I make a second trip.
15%
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Dallas reaches out to take a tote, but I step back. “This is like Jenga. If you pull the wrong bag, it’s all going to come down.”
16%
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want to ask why he bought it, what he’s doing here, and can I move in and make this kitchen my own personal haven, but instead, I snake my hands through the loops of the tote bags, setting them on the counter.
21%
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It’s not the kind of smile that would alert the paparazzi, but it’s the kind of smile that a person could hold onto. The kind that could make, say, a man in a tough spot hope that things could turn around again. Like an anchor. A safe space to land. Did Gram really sense this seconds after meeting her?
24%
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People don’t always let us become who we are. They try to keep us in the box of who we were.
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“Right,” I say, spooning out two of the giant meatballs onto his plate, then ladling out sauce. “That’s true.” He looks down and nods as if I were a blackjack dealer and he’s saying hit me. I slowly add another meatball. He raises his eyebrows. I add another one. He nods. I shudder to think of this man’s caloric intake.
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But that means he's getting to know me. The real me. I don’t know how to feel about that. It’s risky, to say the least. Because while he is probably immune to my nonexistent charms, I am clearly not immune to his.
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That’s the danger of wanting to be loved—you start to see possibilities everywhere. Even where there are none.
41%
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I wait until she looks at me to give her a little nod that I hope communicates Well done. Her face softens and I feel her relax from all the way across the table, and I realize that she and I really are partners in this. Teammates. And something about that comforts me. Who knew a fake relationship could do that?
43%
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fantasy plaything,
46%
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Twice, I’ve fallen asleep on the phone with him, and when I wake up in the middle of the night, I find the call still connected, even though we’re both asleep.
46%
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Alicia pounces immediately, but Dallas ignores her directive to get out in public and asks if I want to come over to watch Downton Abbey with him and Gram. As dates go, it’s one of the best ones I’ve ever had. The key perk being that he instructs me to wear pajamas “or you won’t be let into the house.” I remind him that I have a key, and he reminds me that he’s stronger than me and can remove me from the premises if he wants to.
56%
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assume he’s the goalie, Krush, because he pulls Lisa into his arms and kisses her like he’s been underwater and she has all the oxygen.
57%
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I sense the absence of his hand on my back almost immediately. It’s as if I were a tea kettle about to whistle and someone took me off of the burner a moment too soon. But the burner was nice and warm and cozy, and I want to go back.
59%
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“You don’t have to worry about me either,” I say. She doesn’t look at me. “Someone has to.” The words reach inside of me and squeeze. Is this what it’s like to not be alone?
77%
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I can practically feel a tiny Raya appear on my shoulder in a poof. She’s sitting on a cloud, there to remind me not to fall for this guy. And then, there’s my mother on the opposite shoulder, sing-songing “Protect your heart” over and over in a voice that sounds like one of the Chipmunks. Why did I get two tiny naysayers and no one cheering me on? I close my eyes and Eloise pops in my head. She’s wearing the same red dress as the dancing lady emoji, doing the salsa like she doesn’t care who’s looking, and giving me two thumbs up. There. That’s better.