Rewind It Back (Windy City, #5)(47)

“Happy birthday, Hal.”

“Thank you.” It’s hardly a whisper, so she clears her throat and nods towards the CD. “Should we go listen?”

“Only if you tell me why each one of these songs is important to you.”

That smile grows. “I always do.”

She stands first and I follow, tossing my blanket and jersey back through my window before crossing the roof to her room, closing her window after we’re both inside.

Hallie is already in the closet, pulling out the extra blankets and pillow we stash for my sleepovers.

“You’re staying over.” She says it as a statement before adding, “Right?”

It’s been months since I’ve been able to, thanks to the winter weather blocking my ability to sneak into her room, and I’m desperate for a good night of sleep.

“Is that okay?”

She shoots me a look, reminding me I don’t have to ask. I typically don’t ask. I usually just sneak over here and plant myself on the floor next to her bed on the nights I can’t sleep. Been doing it for years at this point.

I make myself comfortable on the ground with my makeshift bed as Hallie gets the mix CD ready in the boombox.

“What happens if it scratches?” I ask, remembering that was her initial concern with switching over.

She holds up three more copies, all signed with the H, the heart, and the number fifteen. “I made backups.”

I’m chuckling as she climbs into bed, lying on the side closest to me, but my laughter dies the instant the first song begins to play.

“You’re kidding me,” I state.

Now she’s the one laughing.

“Are they all going to be boy band songs?”

“I don’t want to ruin it for you. Just listen.”

I groan. “I’m disappointed in you, Hal. New rule for next year. No more boy bands.”

She’s laughing again before she explains why this song is important to her. As she does every year, she describes what was happening when she listened to them it made her want to rewind it back and relive that moment. That continues for the entire CD, and no, I don’t love the song choices, but I do love hearing about all the big, important moments she had this year.

We listen in the dark, somewhat lying next to each other—her on the bed and me on the floor—when the final song begins to play.

I recognize it instantly. It’s hard not to when I just heard it today. It’s the same song we listened to in my truck.

Hallie rolls over, lying on her stomach so she can look down at me. “This was a last-minute addition,” she admits quietly.

“And what happened that was so important when you heard it?”

I already know the answer, but I want to hear her say it.

She smiles down at me softly. “It was the first time I realized that you may feel the same way about me as I’ve always felt about you.”

It may be her birthday, but I swear, with that single sentence, she just made all my wishes come true.





Chapter 13


Rio


Out my living room window, I watch as Frank parks Hallie’s car on the street in front of the house next door. He manually locks the door, leaves her keys in her mailbox, and gets into the passenger side of another vehicle that followed him here.

I hold my hand up to him in a wave as they drive off.

Frank has been my mechanic since I moved to Chicago. Everyone should have a good mechanic on speed dial and Frank is the best. Not only because he’s honest and fair, but because when I called him early this Saturday morning, he was happy to tow Hallie’s car to his shop so he could take a look at it.

Yeah, she’ll probably be pissed that I handled it myself, but fuck it. She can be mad all she wants, but she needs a working car.

Hallie was never all that prideful about money. That’s a new development. When we were younger, we were both well aware there was going to be a pay disparity in our chosen careers. But I don’t think her new view of money is due to some martyr mentality. I truly believe if anyone else offered her help, she might accept it.

But that offer coming from me? It’s all anger.

Anger towards me, that her life has been harder than it was supposed to be, harder than I told her it would be. Anger that she’s working two jobs and brutal hours to make ends meet because I left and didn’t take her with me when I promised I would.

Last night, I drove for another hour before getting Hallie home, and once I finally made it to my bed, I didn’t sleep much. That’s not a new development by any means, but the hours spent lying awake were also spent coming to some harsh realities. I’ve only ever focused on my own anger towards her, never once stopping to think why she could have that same sentiment towards me.

I’m not sure if she’s home tonight. I’m not sure if she had a shift at the bar and if Wren drove her there. Most of me wanted to go next door and offer to give her a ride or hand her the keys to my truck if she wanted to drive herself, but there’s still a piece of me hoping to keep some semblance of distance from her, to not let us get too messy or intertwined.

That part of me also knows it’s playing a losing game.

Tired of thinking about the girl next door, I grab the remote off the coffee table, and as soon as I’m about to drop onto the couch for the rest of the night and binge-watch some TV, my doorbell rings. Which is weird because it’s a Saturday night, most of my teammates are going out again, and my other eight friends are having a date night at the three-star Michelin restaurant downtown that’s near impossible to get into without having a reservation booked a year out.