Rewind It Back (Windy City, #5)(26)

Yes, Luke was important to me, but that relationship didn’t hold a candle to the importance his sister would hold in my life.

Hallie turns her wrist over, checking the time on her watch, before shifting her attention back to her laptop. “Let’s just focus on the meeting,” she says. “It’s getting late.”

It’s only four o’clock.

“Somewhere more important to be?” I ask.

She doesn’t answer me. Instead, she concentrates on filling out a client profile form on her computer without having to check with me for any of the answers. My full name, age, birthday.

Regardless of my attempts to keep our connection at a distance, there’s this weird warmth in my chest that I haven’t felt in a long time. I’ve been on so many first dates, been asked so many fucking times what my favorite color is, that this feels nice. Being known, even if it is just the basics, feels nice.

But it can’t feel nice with her, so instead, when I catch her checking the time again, I push.

“Do you have other plans or something? I may be mistaken, but weren’t you the one begging me for this job?”

“Yes.” It comes out with a bite. “But our meeting was set for two o’clock, not four. I have another . . . commitment I need to be at by five.”

The image of that fucking guy pops into my head. Him sitting next to her at my game. I’m not one to be violent off the ice, but everything in me was wishing the glass that was separating us would’ve magically disappeared, so I could’ve reached out and grabbed him by the goddamn neck.

Okay, that’s dramatic as fuck, but I didn’t expect the blind possessiveness I’d feel after not only seeing Hallie again but seeing her with someone else. Someone who wasn’t me.

“A date?” I can’t help but ask.

She’s working away at the computer, filling out information she already knows. “Not exactly your concern, now, is it?”

So that’s a yes.

I was only late to our meeting because I got stuck at work. They gave me extra film to watch before our game tomorrow night against Dallas, and then I needed more time in the training room to work on my right calf because it’s been uncharacteristically tight lately. The medical staff wouldn’t let me leave until I got treatment. I didn’t mean to be late. In fact, I called the design firm and apologized for running behind, but now I’m wishing I took even more time getting over here. I wish I had an excuse to keep her here even longer.

Leaning back in the chair, I lace my fingers, resting my hands on my stomach. “We should make sure this meeting is as thorough as possible.”

“Really? That’s how this is going to go?”

“This is my home, after all, Hallie. My safe space. My respite from the outside world. It’s going to take time and deserves your full attention.”

She rolls her eyes. “You can give it a rest, Rio. I get it. You’re going to make sure I’m late.”

I’m going to make sure she doesn’t go at all.

In the chair next to me, Hallie crosses one leg over the other before pulling out her phone to type a text, presumably to whoever he is, letting him know she’s not coming.

It doesn’t feel natural to be a dick, especially to her, so the guilt settles in quickly. Part of me wants to tell her never mind, she should go, but most of me would rather stomach the guilt than having to live with the knowledge she’s on a date with someone else.

It was one thing when she didn’t live here. I got pretty good at lying to myself, tricking myself into believing she didn’t exist and therefore not having to think about her dating. But it’s entirely different having to witness it with my own two eyes.

So, I allow her to finish the text to let whatever his name is know she’s not coming.

She’s in all black today. Black jeans, ripped apart at the knees. Black boots with a heel that does insane things to her legs and ass. A black satin shirt, unbuttoned at the top, allowing the layers of silver and gold necklaces to tease as they fall and disappear behind it.

Fucking beautiful.

She always has been though.

But beyond that, I remember my other favorite things about her. She’s strong yet caring. Determined yet kind. There was a time when my absolute favorite thing in the world was to simply be with her. If I would allow myself to admit it, I missed Hallie Hart.

As she texts, I watch as she slips her short dark hair behind one of her ears, giving me a perfect view of her face and neck. The soft angle of her jaw. The cute slope of her nose. Her full brows and light freckles.

“I love your hair like this.”

Fuck me. Did I say that out loud?

That’s confirmed when her attention whips in my direction, those dark brows furrowed, once again confused.

That makes two of us.

If only she could see inside my brain, she’d realize it’s a fucking mess right now. The back and forth, not knowing how to treat her, unable to find a safe middle ground. We haven’t spent time together since everything turned to shit, and clearly, I have no idea how to act around her now.

“What did you just say?” she asks.

“Your haircut. It looks good on you. Shows you off. When did you cut it?”

A warmth creeps up her cheeks, allowing them to turn a shade of pink, and I visibly watch as the wall she’s built up drops a bit along with her tense shoulders. “About six years ago. I’ve kept it short since.”