She grabs the remote from my hand and toys with the play button but doesn’t press it yet. “What’s the Hallmark Channel? Wait. Is that the one with all the corny shows?”

“Seriously?”

“Yes?” It comes out as more of a question than an answer.

“How do you not know what the Hallmark Channel is?”

She shrugs. “I’ve never owned a TV, so sue me.”

“So you’ve never seen a Hallmark movie? Nothing?”

“Nope.”

“Dude,” I tell her, “You’re in for a treat. They’re corny, and awkward, and awesome.”

Her eyes light up with mirth before she motions to the screen. “Well, when you put it that way, let’s dive right in. Shall we?”

Pressing play, she settles back into the couch, and we lose ourselves in the movie. And just like I’d predicted, it’s corny, and awkward, and awesome.

When it ends a little while later, I turn down the sound and ask, “So…what do ya think?”

“Definitely corny,” she admits with a wry grin. “But super cute too.”

“Right?”

“I gotta be honest, though. I kinda like my sexy mafia boss more than good ol’ Henry in the movie.”

Clutching my chest, I pretend to be wounded. “Seriously? He’s so swoony, though.”

She laughs. “He is pretty swoony, but now that I’ve had a taste of the darker anti-hero, I think I’ve found my preference.”

Anti-hero. Mafia man. Bad guy with a heart of gold.

An image of Diece flutters through my mind and makes my chest tighten.

“I get that,” I concede in a quiet voice as I catch the end credits rolling down on the screen.

“And how ‘bout you?”

Chewing my lower lip, I admit, “I always wanted a Henry with a small town, a cute, fluffy dog, the whole shebang.”

I can feel her stare. Watching me. Studying me. Then she points out, “Yet, here you are.”

Tearing my gaze away from the show, I lift one shoulder and return her stare. “Here I am.”

“Have you found your preference?”

“What do you mean?” I hedge before tucking a few strands of hair behind my ear.

“You said that Hallmark guys were your jam, but you’re kinda, sorta dating a Romano now. Aren’t you?”

I bite my lip. “I don’t know if that’s what you’d call it.”

With a wave of her hand, she mutters, “Toe-may-toe, toe-mah-toe. My point is, you’re currently on a path that leads you to the exact opposite of your small town and fluffy dog. What do you think about that?”

“I don’t know,” I hedge. “Diece’s a good guy. I really care about him.”

“But he isn’t who you expected to end up with,” she concludes.