Rewind It Back (Windy City, #5)(53)

“Thank you,” I say genuinely. “I didn’t know what I was going to do, so thank you.”

He looks up at me, his eyes and smile equally soft. “Anything for you, Hal.”

I nod towards the kids. “So, how’d you end up watching four kids on a Saturday night?”

He explains who belongs to who from his friend group and how their moms are the same women I met at his house. He tells me about the reservation they had tonight and how their regular babysitter fell through.

“They didn’t invite you to join?” I ask.

“They did. They always do. They’re good about including me, but there are certain times, regardless of how much they involve me in their plans, that it’s obvious I’m the odd one out.”

“Do they give you a hard time about that?”

“No,” he quickly answers with a shake of his head. “No, of course not. It’s a me thing. Sometimes I just get tired of being the single friend. I don’t need to join them on their romantic date night.”

A spark of interest ignites, though I shouldn’t care that he just admitted to me that he was single.

“So . . .” I attempt to keep my tone uninterested, disengaged, casual. “Have you been dating at all?”

And apparently, I’m a masochist because I’m asking him to hurt me by telling me all about the women who came after me.

Rio looks at me out of the corner of his eye as he starts the microwave, lifting a brow and silently calling out my interest. Or maybe he’s asking if I’m positive I want to know the answer. But I can’t exactly back down now without seeming sad and pathetic, the girl he moved on from who hasn’t been able to do the same.

“Innocent question.” I hold my hands up. “We’re friends now, remember? Friends ask those kinds of questions.”

He turns, fully facing me with his arms crossed over his chest, and it’s then I realize how close we’re standing. His knee bumps mine when he shifts his weight, his sock-covered toes slide against the arch of my foot.

“I’ve gone on dates, but I’m not dating anyone in particular,” he explains. “I’ve gone on lots of dates, actually. But nothing long-term. Nothing serious since—”

Me.

Neither of us has to finish his sentence to know that’s what he was about to say.

There’s a heavy beat of silence that sits between us at the realization.

“Hallie, I’m not going to lie to you. I’ve spent most of the last six years trying to prove to myself that it exists. Love or soulmates or whatever it is that I used to believe in. But after watching everything go down between my parents and then”—he looks at me—“what happened with us . . .”

His green eyes search my face, hoping to make me understand. Sure, he may have been on a mission to prove to himself all these years that real love exists, but I’ve been doing the opposite. I haven’t dated. I haven’t even looked, and yes, most of that is due to being busy taking care of my dad, but there’s also a part of me that knew I wouldn’t be able to replicate what we had, so what would be the point in even trying?

“Sorry.” He shakes his head, trying to shake us out of this moment. “I’m not trying to make this heavy.”

“It was real,” I quickly admit. “For me at least. It was real. That’s how I know it exists.”

I watch as the words settle into him. “Yeah,” he breathes. “It was real for me too, Hal.”

We don’t break eye contact, and there are no more spoken words, only the unspoken ones.

He finally clears his throat. “And what about you? What have the last six years looked like for you?”

Well, I sure as hell am not going to admit that I haven’t dated anyone in all these years. Not after his confession.

“Busy,” I say simply.

We both know that’s not what he’s asking, so he takes the more direct route. “Are you seeing anyone right now? What about that guy from my game?”

The microwave beeps, and it feels like the perfect out of this conversation. I remove the bag of popcorn and empty it into a large bowl.

“Hallie?”

“Did you hear that?” I ask. “I think the kids need something.”

I’m halfway out of the kitchen when he says, “I thought this is what friends do? Ask these kinds of questions.”

I don’t slow down.

“Hallie Hart!” he calls at my back.

“Shh.” I hold a finger up to my lips. “There’s a movie on.”

“You’re going to give me high blood pressure, woman. How long are going to make me dwell on that question before you finally give me the answer?”

I shrug, letting him stew over it. If Rio were thinking clearly, he’d realize I don’t have enough time in my schedule to be seeing anyone, but I like how flustered he gets at the prospect that I could be.

I sit in the only empty space left on the couch between Navy and her sleeping brother before giving Taylor the bowl of popcorn. She holds it in her lap as the other two absentmindedly dip their hands in, all three of them keeping their eyes glued to the television.

A moment later, Navy reaches over and takes my hand, holding it with one of hers.

I chuckle to myself, remembering how Indy hugged me immediately when we met. Rio was right. Navy really is her mother’s daughter.