Rewind It Back (Windy City, #5)(77)

Hallie liked me when I was a scrawny teenager without an athletic bone in my body. She was always so good about building my confidence and never letting me worry that I might not be enough for her. So, I don’t question if she finds me attractive. Now, I feel like I get to show off in front of her.

I take my time toweling off, but I’m sure to put my shirt on before I get too close to the door. Yes, it’s been on my mind for a couple of weeks now that it’s probably time to start letting Hallie know just how much I haven’t forgotten about her in all these years, but that needs to be done slowly with baby steps.

“Sorry,” she says as soon as I open the door.

I try to bite back my smile. “For which part? Breaking and entering or for eye-fucking me in my own house?”

“Mostly the breaking and entering. Though, I do have a key and used the front door, so I’m not sure if that qualifies. And as far as the eye-fucking . . .” She tosses her head from side to side in contemplation. “I was the first girl to ever see you naked. I figured that gave me a free pass to see what you’re working with now.”

Chuckling, I round the kitchen island to meet her, finding different tile samples and cabinet hardware laid out, expanding over the counter.

“What’s all this?” I ask, my palm instinctively finding the small of her back.

“A few samples I wanted to see in the space now that the demo is all done on the first floor.”

This entire week, a construction crew has been here, ripping out carpet, pulling off baseboards, and jackhammering tile. It’s been loud and messy and I’m already eager for this renovation to be done.

But then another part of me isn’t. Because if Hallie decides she doesn’t see herself giving us another shot, I don’t know how much I’m going to get to see her once my house is done. Especially once she moves out of Wren’s place. Especially if I end up in Boston.

“I thought you’d already left for the airport,” she says.

My thumb draws languid circles on her lower back. “Our flight leaves in a couple of hours. Typically, we go right after the game, but not tonight.”

“Are you excited to go home?”

That question gives me pause, because for a moment, my first thought is that I am home. But then I realize she doesn’t mean this version of home, with her in my house.

“Yeah, I am. I love that city, and I get to see my mom.”

Hallie smiles weakly, and I can tell she’s trying her best to be excited for me to go home. But I also know the mention of my mom could bring down the mood, so I swiftly change the subject.

“I need to finish packing but do your thing. If you want, you could come upstairs and hang out with me when you’re done.”

She shakes her head. “I’m here to work.”

“Okay.” I tuck her hair behind her ear because I can’t keep my fucking hands off her, and even though Hallie says she’s here to work, she still leans into my touch. “Don’t leave without saying goodbye.”

Leaving her in the kitchen, I head for the stairs and I’m halfway up when I pause.

Because there’s music playing throughout my whole house.

Music that Hallie put on.

I feel the smile begin to lift on my lips because the first day Hallie came to work on my house, she said she didn’t do that anymore. But clearly, things have changed since then.





Chapter 24


Hallie


I know I shouldn’t want to spend time with him. I want to be petty. I want to hold a grudge the way I so easily did for the past six years. But the more time I spend with him, the more the armor cracks.

The highlights of my days revolve around him lately. Him popping into my work or leaving a coffee for me on my doorstep. Little moments that tell me he’s thinking of me.

But it’s not him thinking of me now, with me living right next door, that has me wary of jumping back into things. It’s how easily he forgot I existed in the years we were apart. How seemingly forgettable I was to him.

Especially when he never once left my mind.

But I should get his opinion on these backsplash options. It’s his house after all, and sure, we’re still weeks away from needing these types of decisions to be made, but why not get ahead of schedule? We can discuss as he packs for his trip. And if he decides quickly and I end up hanging out with him for a while longer, well, then it is what it is.

Taking two options with me, I head for the stairs.

His bedroom door is left open, so I slip inside, finding his partially packed suitcase on the bed. He’s not in here, though. Both of his closets are left open, including the one he blocked me from going into last time I was up here.

It’s like a beacon, calling me to it, so I take a step in that direction, only to stop myself before I can take a second look.

As much as I want to, I can’t do that.

Then I’m completely distracted when a distant and breathy “fuck” echoes from his attached bathroom, instantly stealing all my attention. I whip in that direction, wanting to hear it again, and wondering if that was real.

I don’t breathe. I don’t move. I don’t make a sound as I listen harder, trying to convince myself that my ears were deceiving me.

They weren’t. That’s confirmed by the sound of the shower water running and muffling a moan.