Rewind It Back (Windy City, #5)(25)

“No. Not like that.”

There’s another long pause.

“Well, maybe that was the first time you were told, but I know for a fact it wasn’t the first time someone liked you.”

My eyes feel like they’re going to pop out of my head with how quickly they widen. Does he mean himself or someone else? My heart is thundering in my chest and if I were braver, I’d ask him what he means. But I’m not. I don’t ask for clarification and instead, decide to overthink that single sentence for the rest of my life.

The next song begins to play, and completely casually, like he didn’t just drop a potential bomb on me, he asks, “Why is the second song important to you?”





Chapter 8


Rio


“And you’re sure that’s all it is?” Hallie asks into the phone. “Because I can take work off if I need to. I can drive out there.”

She’s pacing, retracing her same three or four steps in the corner of the design firm’s conference room, phone held tightly to her ear.

We were starting our first design consultation when her phone rang, so I’m currently sitting at the conference table when she hesitantly checks over her shoulder to see if I’m eavesdropping.

Of fucking course I’m eavesdropping.

Every tense muscle in her shoulders and back screams that she’s distraught and something is wrong. And as if on instinct, my own body is bunched in anticipation, waiting to see what she needs, even though every fiber of my being would like to believe I don’t give a shit.

“Promise me, Luke,” she continues, turning back to face the wall. “You’ll call me if it gets any worse.” Her brother says something on the other line that causes her shoulders to drop an inch. “Thank you. Okay. Love you too. Bye.”

I wait for her to tell me what’s wrong, but she doesn’t explain. Instead, she ends the call and gives herself a moment to collect herself in the corner before returning to the table.

She’s got this phony grin on her lips as she opens her laptop, attempting to resume our meeting. “Sorry about that.”

“What’s wrong?”

She shakes her head, extending that forced smile across her mouth as if I, of all people, wouldn’t be able to tell it’s fake.

“Is everything okay with your brother?” I ask.

“Everything is fine.”

She won’t make eye contact with me.

“Hallie, something is clearly wrong.”

“Rio, please. We both know you don’t actually care if something is upsetting me.”

If only that were true. It’d make my life a whole lot easier if I could care less about this girl.

“Right?” Hallie’s attention finally meets mine, testing me to answer her.

But I can’t focus on the answer when she’s looking at me like that, her eyes big and curious and hazel.

So fucking hazel.

I almost forgot how pretty they are, how they lean more green than brown depending on the light. How they’d screw shut if we were watching a scary movie together. How they’d softly close when I’d kiss her mouth. How they’d turn dark, her pupils blowing out when I’d kiss the rest of her.

She’s staring right back at me, and when her lips slightly part, my attention drifts down to them instead.

Fuck, I missed those.

I still remember the first time we kissed.

I remember the last time too, and that memory snaps me out of the stupid little spell that naturally lives between us.

What the hell am I doing?

This is why, even all these years later, it’s a bad idea for me to be alone in the same room as Hallie Hart. The pull between us is still there and I hate that.

“Yeah.” I clear my throat. “If you’re done taking phone calls, maybe we can get back to our meeting.”

Those hazel eyes flash with hurt and I hate that almost as much as I want to hate her.

Too mean.

“How is um . . .” I rub my palm against the back of my neck. “How is Luke, by the way?”

She looks up at me with confusion, thanks to my mental whiplash, but her face quickly morphs into a scowl. Asking about her brother was clearly the wrong thing to say. I haven’t spoken to my old friend in as many years since I last spoke to his sister.

Hallie’s attention is back on her computer screen. “He’s fine.”

“Is he still in Boston?”

“South of Minneapolis, actually.”

“He moved back to Minnesota? I had no idea.”

Her jaw tics, as if she were grinding her molars together. “And how would you? It’s not like you’ve spoken to either of us since you left Boston, and Luke didn’t even do anything wrong for you to cut him out of your life like that.”

She’s right.

Luke didn’t do anything wrong, but I was young and hurt and took all my pain out on anyone in close proximity to the situation.

Luke was a good friend growing up. Sure, he was a dick to his sister when we were younger, but he grew out of that and became the quintessential protective older sibling. For the entirety of my teen years, Luke was practically my brother, but when I moved away, I deleted his contact from my phone simply to keep myself from giving in to the temptation of calling him to check on Hallie.