Rewind It Back (Windy City, #5)(20)

At least, I thought I did.

I’m still so fucking confused on what I should do about the house, still in shock from seeing Hallie again, that I don’t have it in me to explain.

“I’m going to grab another bottle of wine for the table.” Standing from my seat, I take the empty bottle of red with me. “Anyone need anything from the kitchen?”

The group stays silent, and I can feel every pair of eyes on me as I leave the dining room to hide away in the kitchen. I toss the empty glass bottle in the recycling before bracing my hands on the counter in front of me to take a deep breath.

I’ve only known about Hallie being in Chicago for a week and already it feels like things are getting too muddled. I’ve kept our history a secret from my closest friends all this time, as if leaving everything between us in Boston and not speaking of her would help me pretend as if it never happened.

It didn’t do shit for me. I simply spent the last six years living in a delusional state of denial, telling myself I wasn’t hurt over it all, while subconsciously comparing everyone to our relationship because that’s what I was looking for.

“So, who is she?” Indy asks, reaching around me to grab a fresh bottle of wine off the counter.

Exhaling, I turn to face her, leaning back against the kitchen counter with my arms crossed over my chest. “She’s the designer assigned to my house project.”

Indy raises a single eyebrow as she uncorks the bottle. “You know what I’m asking, Rio.”

Stevie joins us in the kitchen. “Oh, don’t mind me, I’m . . .” She looks around for something to do, a reason she’d need to be in the kitchen right now. “Helping with the wine.”

“And I’m doing dishes,” Kennedy says, carrying a single plate to the sink. A single clean plate.

“I’ll be honest here. I’m being nosy.” Miller hops onto the kitchen counter, taking a seat. “Spill it. Who’s the girl?”

That pulls a laugh out of me.

There’s something about my friendships with women, especially these women, that I value in a way that’s different from my male friendships. Sometimes, with the guys, we tend to shoot the shit and laugh off the hard stuff too quickly. But when I need to discuss a tough topic, I tend to find that I get a more empathetic and understanding approach from the women in my life.

So, if there’s anyone I’d be willing to open up about Hallie with, it’s these four.

With half as many eyes on me as there were in the dining room, I finally admit, “We grew up together in Boston. She was the girl next door.”

Too many knowing smiles reflect back at me in the kitchen.

“We have . . . a sordid history and I unknowingly hired her to renovate the house. I didn’t know she was living here until last week, but once I realized it was her, I made it clear that someone else needed to be on the project.”

“That’s what happened outside of practice?” Stevie asks.

“She was there to ask me to reconsider. Said she was desperate to work on the house. Needed to show her boss what she could do so she could get hired full-time or something like that. I think she’s in an internship program but wants a permanent position.”

Kennedy’s smile turns sympathetic. “When was the last time you saw her?”

The images of those last days in Boston flood my mind. It was the worst time of my life, and I’ve tried my hardest over the last six years to block it out.

“Shortly after I had gotten drafted, before I moved here permanently.”

“What happened between you two?” Miller asks.

An odd surge of protectiveness coats my chest like a piece of armor. Though Hallie and I have a sordid history, it’s still our history, and everything in me wants to keep it that way. Regardless that I got hurt, I don’t want my friends to have that first impression of her. I don’t want anything to skew their opinion of her.

“I’d rather keep that between her and me.”

Every single one of the girls’ shoulders drop, heads tilting with big sad eyes as if they’re playing out some kind of rom-com version of a destined reconnection.

“You four can stop looking at me like that.”

Miller’s smile slips into a smirk. “Like what?”

“Like you think this is it. As if she were the one who got away, and this is our second chance. It’s not going to happen, so get that out of your minds. Trust me, too much bad happened between us in the past for there to be any good between us now.”

Indy is the one I’m most reluctant to look at, because when I finally do, I see the realization all over her face. Without me saying anything, she knows. Maybe not all the details of Hallie and me, but I can tell she knows I loved the girl and got my heart broken over it.

Then she does the most Indy thing possible and finds the positive.

“Honestly, who better to design your house?” she asks. “She knows you.”

She has no idea how accurate that statement is.

“Whatever happened between you two,” she continues, “and I don’t know the details, but is there really no part of you left that wants to help her? If she’s coming to you like this, she must really need the job, and I can’t imagine you being okay with not helping her.”

Fucking Indy.

My molars grind together, jaw ticking because once again, she doesn’t realize how true that statement is either.