Rewind It Back (Windy City, #5)(123)

Ryan shakes his head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Indy tries to discreetly wipe her cheeks again.

Rio sighs when he spots her. “Ind.”

She offers him a placating smile. “Just going to miss you is all.”

“We’ll chat later, okay?”

She nods to agree.

There’s still a heaviness lingering over the room.

“So, uh . . .” Isaiah begins again. “Are we having a party at your house or what?”

Kennedy shakes her head at him. “One-track mind, I swear.”

“Hell yeah, we’re having a party. I was hoping the house would be ready for Hallie’s birthday, so we could celebrate both, but a couple of the projects got delayed. We’ll get something planned in April or May for the house.”

Indy’s sadness begins to shift when she sits up excitedly. “Wait. Hallie, when is your birthday?”

“Next Saturday.”

“What? We have to do something! Next Sunday’s dinner has to be a birthday dinner.”

“I’ll make a cake!” Miller chimes in.

Rio squeezes my thigh again and I don’t do a great job of hiding my smile. It feels really nice to make new friends again.

“Wait, when do we get home?” Zee asks him.

“We’ll get back late Saturday night. Coach wants to stay an extra night to see his family in Montréal. I already tried to convince him to let us fly home Friday after the game instead, but he’s not into it.”

“Sunday dinner will be fun,” I interrupt. I don’t need him to feel bad about something he can’t change. And honestly, whenever we do celebrate, I know it’ll be the best birthday I’ve had in a long time. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Speaking of March birthdays.” Miller sits up in her seat. “Did you all get the invite to Max’s party?”

“How the hell is he going to be five already?” Kennedy asks rhetorically.

Kai shakes his head. “I can’t talk about it.”

“The baseball theme is so cute,” Stevie says with a sweet smile.

Ryan chuckles. “Was that his idea?”

“Oh yeah. He’s obsessed with baseball right now.” Miller pulls out her phone and holds up a picture for all of us to see. “He’s starting T-ball, and we just picked up his very first uniform.”

Right there on her phone screen is little Max, a big smile on his face, wearing his brand-new uniform with number twenty-one on it.

“He’s wearing his dad’s number.” Zee grins. “Did he choose that himself?”

“I seriously cannot talk about this.” Kai takes off his glasses, pressing his thumb and forefinger against his closed eyes.

Miller laughs but runs her hand over her husband’s back.

Isaiah smiles. “We asked him what number he wanted to wear, and he said he wanted his dad’s number. It was fucking adorable.”

“I fucking love that kid.” Kai sighs. “But I have no idea how he’s old enough to play already. Where did the time go? It feels like yesterday Miller was bringing him to the field to take his very first steps.”

Miller smiles softly at him, giving his shoulder a squeeze.

“How’d you pick your jersey number in the first place?” Indy asks. “Does twenty-one mean something?”

“Oh, fuck me,” Rio mutters under his breath for only me to hear.

“Great question, Indy!” I drape my arm over Rio’s shoulder, excited for this conversation.

“Not exactly,” Kai says. “I was twelve years old and didn’t know what number to pick, so I flipped the numbers of my age because that’s how my twelve-year-old brain worked.”

Isaiah chuckles. “And I’m two years younger, so I picked the number that was two less than his. Nineteen.”

Rio is completely silent next to me, and I know he’s hoping for this conversation to die, but I refuse to let it. “Ryan, how about you?”

“I don’t have a good reason. I was, what? Five or six years old when I first joined a team.” He looks to his sister for confirmation. “And I was sick the day they picked numbers, so they handed me a jersey with number five on it when I came back. I haven’t changed it since.”

“How consistent of you, baby.” Indy laughs, dropping her head to his shoulder. “Zee?”

“Mine is simple. Number one was taken at the time and I figured that number eleven was even better because it’s number one twice.”

There’s a small laugh among the group because from what I’ve gotten to know of Zanders, that thought process tracks.

Everyone turns their attention to Rio, but he doesn’t answer.

“Rio?” Stevie pushes. “What about you?”

He hesitates for a long moment, not looking in my direction. I’m just sitting here with a smug smile on my face and my arm draped over his shoulder, ecstatic that I’m finally going to get the answer to the question I’ve been curious about for months.

“Well,” he begins slowly. “I was always number eighty-three growing up.”

“So, you flipped the numbers?” Miller guesses.

“Not exactly. I didn’t know what number to choose when I was a kid, so I picked the number of my favorite day, which was, of course, my birthday. August third. Eighty-three.”