Rewind It Back (Windy City, #5)(70)

I whip my head in her direction. “Hallie. That’s not funny.”

She shrugs and I can see the smile she’s trying to hold back through the elevator’s reflection.

My mouth is still gaping when we get off on our floor.

I follow her to her room, leaning against the wall as she uses her key card to open the door so she can change into something more comfortable.

“Do I need to remind you about that kiss we shared the last time we saw each other?”

She laughs. “I’m not sixteen anymore, Rio. Just because we kissed doesn’t make me yours.”

I lift a brow. “Is that a challenge?”

“You can take that however you’d like.” She’s got this teasing smile on her lips as she slips into her room, closes the door, and leaves me alone in the hallway.





Chapter 20


Rio


“You’re telling me this still works?” Hallie runs her hand over my boombox sitting on the dresser in my hotel room.

“Like a charm.”

“How old is it?”

I don’t say anything, waiting for her to put the pieces together.

“No way!” Her head whips in my direction. “Don’t tell me this is the same one you got when you were like fifteen.”

“The one and only.”

“Wow.” She joins me on the couch. “And you didn’t want to upgrade at some point?”

New ones don’t play cassette tapes or even CDs anymore.

But I don’t tell her that.

“Why fix what’s not broken?” is what I say instead.

Hallie relaxes back on the couch with me, crossing her legs under her and opening her laptop. “So, these are the two layouts I’ve been playing with. We can fully scrap both concepts, combine them, anything you want.”

I lean into her to get a better look at her computer, with my legs kicked up on the coffee table in front of us. The same coffee table that’s covered in our now empty dinner plates.

We both changed, me into a pair of sweatpants and a tee, and her into leggings and my team-issued hoodie that she stole, before ordering the entire room service menu. Mostly because Hallie couldn’t decide what she wanted to eat, and I just wanted her to have a good time with me, so I panic-ordered the whole menu.

Whatever. It was delicious.

Hallie brings the first three-dimensional concept up on her computer and I feel my entire expression shift as I take it in.

“That’s my house?” I ask in disbelief.

“It could be. If you like it.”

I lean in closer to the computer, subsequently leaning more into her. “Like it? I love it. How the hell is that the same house I have now?”

She uses the mouse to give me a tour, taking me through each room.

“These don’t need to be the final color concepts or anything. Just an idea of what I thought would look good together. This option has a few partial walls added whereas the other one is more of an open concept feel. But adding walls also means adding to the cost, which if you’re going to sell might not be the best choice.”

Of course, I knew she was good at her job. I saw Wren’s house, but watching it happen firsthand, seeing her take nothing and turn it into this? She’s so talented. So impressive, and I could not be prouder of her. Watching her paint her own childhood room a thousand times to, this? How does she not just spend every day talking about how creatively gifted she is?

“Hallie,” I breathe out, taking in the images on the computer. “Your brain is so fucking cool. How did you think of this?”

I watch as she tries to bite back her proud smile before she pulls up the second concept she’s created.

I can’t distinctly pull out what’s different about this one, only that it is. In the same way as the first option, there’s color covering every square inch, the choices feel intentional, and I can’t imagine someone coming over and not feeling welcomed. Which is the main thing I’d want from this house, whether I keep or sell it.

“Do you have a preference?” she asks. “Between the two.”

She looks over at me and that’s when I realize how close we’re sitting. We’re leaning into one another, our shoulders overlapping with hers resting on top of mine. And our lips, our lips are only a breath from touching with her turned back to look at me like this.

When she realizes, Hallie doesn’t move away, which feels like a win.

Fuck. I want to kiss her again.

“What would you choose?” I ask and damn, my voice sounds raspy as hell.

“Well, it’s up to you. If cost isn’t an issue, the big difference is the open concept or the intentional rooms. One isn’t necessarily better than the other. It’s a matter of preference.”

“And if this were your house, what would you choose?”

Her eyes bounce to my lips before she readjusts, sitting up to create a bit of distance between us. “It’s not my house.”

There’s this tone to her voice that’s final and decisive.

I don’t listen to it.

I slide my hand over her thigh because I miss having her close already. “Pretend it is. I need your opinion.”

She exhales, and it sounds heavy and tired and wary to imagine anything about my home being hers. “I like the idea of adding a few walls. Open concept is popular right now, but I don’t think it’s the right choice for everyone.”