Rewind It Back (Windy City, #5)(74)

“Yes,” I hiss. “More. Please.”

The desperate, needy sound that works its way up my throat is mirrored with Rio’s own noises. And he’s hard. God, he’s so fucking hard right now. I can feel every inch of him.

It’s been so long, this should almost feel foreign, yet my body moves, remembering exactly what to do.

Hooking my leg over his, I urge him to do it again.

Rio pushes my knee up to the mattress, grinding himself over me, the sound of our building breaths mingling in the otherwise silent room. He moves from my mouth to my neck, working a warm path down my throat.

I run my hands through his hair, holding on to him as he kisses and nips.

“I missed you,” I admit in a breathy whisper, close to his ear.

He drops his head to my chest, pausing his movements before he cups my face and leans up to kiss me again. Slowly. Deeply. Desperately.

“Say it again,” he pleads.

My lips turn up in a smile against his. “I missed you.”

He hums at the admission while I find the hem of his shirt, slipping a hand underneath. My palm connects with the hard planes of his stomach, my fingers graze the hair on his chest as I push his shirt up. Because I want it off. I want it all off.

“Wait,” he breathes, chest moving rapidly against mine as he settles his hand on my wrist to stop me. “Wait, baby.”

His eyes flick up to mine, this pleading, desperate expression on his face.

“Do you think that . . . I mean, could you ever see yourself giving us another shot?” he asks. “Without your brother around to hide it from, without our families in the way. Would you ever want to try again with me?”

My heart is physically cracking at his sweet words, at the soft way he says them.

At the knowledge that I don’t have an answer that he’ll want.

“I don’t know how to answer that,” I tell him honestly.

“Try, Hal. Please. Just tell me what you’re thinking.”

Swallowing hard, I run my hand through his hair. “We both made mistakes. I know that, but you left when I needed you to stay.”

I watch as any hope fades from his expression.

“You broke my heart, Rio, and I know I broke yours.”

“I was young, Hallie. We were young. We were fucking kids who made mistakes. I was twenty-one years old and just watched my entire life fall apart and—” He closes his eyes, trying to regain his composure. “I took it out on you.”

“I know,” I soothe, running a hand down his face. “I know. I’m just trying to be honest with you. There’s still so much you don’t know, and—”

“Tell me then.”

I smile at him weakly. I’m not ready to trust him with that part of my life yet, and I don’t know if I ever will.

He exhales a defeated sigh before gently taking my wrist and pressing a light kiss there—his silent way of accepting the state of things.

I notice he doesn’t move from between my legs, doesn’t roll over back to his side of the bed, so I lift my hips, hoping to restart what he paused.

“Rio,” I whisper. “I might not be ready for that, but we could have this.”

He laughs sardonically to himself and closes his eyes as if it causes him physical pain to say what he’s about to say. “You know I don’t work that way. I can’t do one without the other.”

Meaning he can’t do sex without the commitment.

“Still?” And yes, that’s complete and utter shock in my voice because this man has been in the NHL for years and I kind of assumed he would’ve started having casual sex along the way.

And he probably has. But I don’t qualify, because he and I have never been casual.

He smiles at my surprise. “Yeah, Hal. Still.”

Leaning down, he kisses me once more. Slowly. Tenderly. All while cautiously climbing off me to lay at my side.

He brushes my hair away from my face. “Thank you for coming to see me.”

I want to complain, to whine about him stopping things, but I can’t. Not when he gave me his boundaries while also asking me to want him again. It’s not that I don’t want him. I just don’t want to get hurt.

“Goodnight, Rio.” I lean forward and kiss his lips one last time before I turn over, finding my way back to my side.

All too soon, there’s a heavy arm wrapping around my waist, hauling me towards him until my back hits his chest.

“Are you out of your mind? Just because I need you to be mine before I fuck you doesn’t mean I don’t want to cuddle.” He tucks one arm under me, allowing me to use his bicep as a pillow, while the other one curls around my middle, his hand slipped under my sweatshirt and his palm pressed against my skin. “But I call little spoon next time.”

Chuckling, I curl myself into him.

There’s an obnoxiously big smile on my face as I close my eyes and try to find sleep. But I’m too focused on his thumb drawing languid circles on my stomach and the way his breathing seems calm and steady behind me.

“I understand why you’re hesitant or uninterested,” he whispers. “I’m not going to push you to want me. But I am going to be here, waiting, if you ever decide you want to try again. I’m not going anywhere this time.”