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Here’s to the 10 characters, 5 couples, 3 teams, 2 sets of siblings, and 1 amazing friend group that changed my life. This one is dedicated to you, the readers. Thank you for hanging out in Chicago with me.
“Oh, hey!” Wren smacks my arm. “How’d the date go?” And then there’s that. The reminder that I’ve been in Chicago for six years, and there’s a good chance my person isn’t here.
My heart flutters like it used to before I remember everything that happened. Because I may have loved Rio DeLuca once, but I don’t anymore.
“Hi.” She grins at me. “I’m Hallie Hart.” Luke groans. “You don’t have to tell everyone your first and last name.” She simply shrugs, completely unbothered. “I like it.”
“That one is my room. Luke got to choose first and he picked the bigger room.” I point to the window on my house that faces hers and shares a roof. “That one is my room.” “You can watch me paint my room from your room!”
im already in love with this concept
“Do you want to be friends?” Well, that was easy. Just last night I was praying for a new friend, and here she is. “Sure!”
“What are you listening to?” “I don’t know the name. I just picked a song to remember the moment.” Huh? She must realize how confused I am because she adds, “I pick a song when something cool or important happens so I can remember it. Then when I want to relive a moment, I rewind it back and start the song from the beginning.”
IM GIDDY
“Rio.” She swallows. “Hi.” Oh, it’s her all right because I’ll never forget the way my heart used to skip a beat when she’d say my name. It takes everything in me to keep my arms at my side instead of wrapping them around her shoulders and pulling her into my chest like I used to, just to make sure she’s real.
Chocolate hair, with shimmers of lighter brown painted throughout, cuts bluntly below her chin. She used to keep it long, but it suits her this way. Now, it shows off that stunning face of hers. Soft freckles dot along the bridge of her nose. Her eyes that I remember being bright and kind now watch me with unease. Her mouth that used to beam with a smile no matter the situation is now turned down in the opposite direction.
“When did you move to Chicago?” I ask as if I have every right to know the answer, and a part of me feels like I do. She knew I lived here. She should’ve warned me. Her chin tilts up defiantly. “April.” She’s been here for six months? “And you didn’t think you should tell me?” “And say what?” She exhales a laugh. “‘Hey, remember me? That girl you hate. Yeah, I moved to Chicago! Let’s get drinks!’ It’s been six years, Rio. You don’t own this city, and I don’t owe you a phone call. And besides, even if I did, I lost your number years ago.”
That thing I’ve been looking for since I moved to Chicago? That connection? That one person some search their entire lives to find? I had already found her when I was twelve years old. At least, I thought I had. I know what I’m looking for because I had it once, and now the only girl I’ve ever loved is moving into the house next to mine. Again.
“The guy you were with tonight.” I slowly shift back to face her. “Who was he?” The set in her jaw is evident even from here. “Not your job to worry about.” Nodding, I turn back to my house, hands casually tucked in my pockets as I continue to walk. With my back to her, I make sure my words are loud enough for her to hear them. “Lose him.”
Ladie and gentleman, RIO FUCKING DELUCA
I rarely felt embarrassed around Rio in the past, but that’s certainly changed between this interaction and the last. His glare hardens, and for a moment I wonder if it’s odd for him to despise me so much. Hatred was never a natural inclination for the lovable boy I grew up with.
He laughs, deep and full, and I feel it through every nerve in my body. It’s been a long time since I’ve heard that sound, and I missed it.
“Are you cold?” I quickly shake my head. I don’t want him to tell me to go back to my room. “No. I’m fine.” He unzips his hoodie, slipping his arms out. I catch sight of the friendship bracelet I made tied around his wrist. He was trying to make one for me too, but he had a hard time figuring out the knots and only got a couple of inches finished. He holds out his hoodie for me to take. “Aren’t you going to be cold?” I ask. “I play hockey. I’m used to the cold. I’m warm enough.”
She hesitates for a moment before asking, “Is there anything else that you’d like me to keep between us? If I do meet them, I mean.” My eyes search hers and I know exactly what she’s asking. “They know your name. I think they’ve all picked up on the fact that there’s history between us, but they don’t know the details. The way I see it, they don’t need to.” “You’re telling me you never once vented and talked shit about me?” she asks with a laugh. “No.” My tone is even. “Never once, Hal.”
“I’m sorry about today. I…I have no idea how to be around you anymore, Hallie.” He rubs that same hand against the back of his neck. “I know I made things weird, asking about Luke. The thing with the heart. I’ve only ever been one way with you, and now I’m having to constantly remind myself that we aren’t those people anymore.”
“But you hate me, remember?” His attention immediately meets mine, glare hard. “I don’t hate you. Hurt, yes. But I could never hate you, Hallie.”
Something strange happens in my stomach at that. Good God, are those butterflies? No, no they’re not because there’s no way I could feel any sort of excitement around this man again. I’m simply mistaken because it’s been so long since I’ve felt butterflies. Six years to be exact.
To an outsider, this might seem odd, him having a coffee bar when he doesn’t drink caffeine or having dairy milk in his fridge when he’s lactose intolerant. But the thing is, Rio has always been good to his friends, has always had this innate way of loving and taking care of those important to him. One of his best characteristics is making those around him comfortable and welcomed, so a fully stocked coffee station for friends who are visiting makes perfect sense to me.
He clears his throat, crossing through the kitchen and holding the mug out to me. “Almond milk, if I remember correctly.” I take it from him, grateful for the swift attempt of moving forward. “Perfect. Thank you.” I don’t tell him that I don’t like almond milk. I only ordered it when we were younger because I knew he’d ask for a sip of my latte since he couldn’t handle the amount of caffeine if he ordered his own, and I didn’t want the dairy to bother him.
“Don’t let him call you that,” I say quietly. “He doesn’t fucking know you.” She lifts a brow. “And you think you still do?” “Yeah, Hal. I still know you. And you still know me. Better than anyone.” I watch her throat move through a swallow. “He’s never called me that before. I think he thought you were some random guy so he was pretending to mark his territory.” “Yeah, well you’re not his, so tell him to keep his hands to himself too.” Her eyes drop to my mouth. “I’m not yours either.” We’ll see.
I wet my lips, leaning in awfully close. “You sure look good in my shirt for not being mine.” “Get fucked, DeLuca.” I smile as I open the door. “Would love to. You just let me know when and where, Hart.”
I take note of the song that’s playing and keep on driving.
As I step off the ice, I find her standing with a huddle of her friends but looking at me, wearing a big smile and my away jersey over one of my stolen hoodies. I think it’s my favorite part of game days, knowing she’ll be waiting for me afterward. Hallie has yet to miss one of my high school games, home or away. And sure, I see her plenty with our families being so close and her living next door, but there’s something different about game days. I view them as a chance to impress her.
Unsurprisingly, when Hallie got to high school this year, she was instantly well-liked. Yes, she’s the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen and equal parts confident and outgoing. But more than anything, she’s kind. To everyone. Popular or unpopular, she will become your friend if you let her. So yeah, plenty of other guys at school have their eye on her, which makes the times Hallie has her eye on me all that more satisfying.
I’ve gotten teased by my teammates for turning down other girls. I’ve had my sexuality questioned because I’m sixteen and haven’t dated. But frankly, Hallie Hart is all I see.
A few months after Hallie got that boombox for her thirteenth birthday, I asked for the same for mine, simply so I could listen to her yearly mixtapes in my room. And now, they play on repeat in the truck. Because yes, I have a huge freaking crush on the girl and want to know about all the songs that represent important moments in her life.
“You’re a good friend to her, Rio.” “Yeah.” “And to Luke.” “Mm-hmm.” “But have you told him that you’re in love with his sister?” That earns my attention. “Ma!” “What?” she asks behind a fit of laughter. “Well, it’s true.”
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
...more
Kai stops at the door, turning back. “Max, you’re the oldest. You’re in charge. Keep an eye on Uncle Rio for us.” Max giggles at his dad from the couch, while I secretly throw Kai the middle finger.
“And back home, is there anyone there?” A tick of a smile begins to lift on her mouth, but she brings her water bottle up to her lips to hide it. “There is!” “No. No, it’s not like that. I’m just looking forward to getting back home. Cruz got traded to our local NBA team this year, but so did his childhood best friend. So, yeah, I’m looking forward to going home.” Wren doesn’t make eye contact with me as she says it, but I still see that little sparkle when she brings up Cruz’s friend.
“Well, you might not want to hear this, but I’ve always liked Rio and I’m glad you two found your way back to each other, even if it is just as friends.”
“Ariel!” Taylor supplies as she and Max join the other two on the couch. “Absolutely not, Tay.” Rio’s brows are pinched. “Spoiler alert, but she gives up her voice because she thought some random dude was hot. We’re strong independent women here. The only princess movies we’re going to watch are the ones where they realize they don’t need a man.”
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.
Hallie sighs but tries to cover it by saying, “I have something for you.” She grabs the CD case that’s resting on her lap. “Year sixteen.” “I do love getting presents on your birthday.”
“Nice game tonight, thirty-eight,” she says as she sets the glass on a coaster in front of me before nodding to the TV in the corner playing our local sports network. “You looked good out there.”
38 AS IN HER BIRTHDAY MARCH 8TH?!?!?!
“Wait. You’re just going to sit there while I work?” I nod. “Why?” She seems genuinely confused with those brows pinched together and her nose scrunched. And that makes two of us because only a couple of months ago I thought I’d never see her again, and now I don’t want to let her out of my sight. I shrug casually as if the answer were obvious. “I already told you, Hal. I missed you.”
“Do you remember this song?” Rio asks when an old TLC song starts playing through the speakers. “Of course I remember this song. I specifically remember us listening to it in my bedroom one night and telling you it was playing the first time some boy told me he liked me.” “Kevin Gross,” Rio mumbles under his breath. “I hated that guy, by the way.” “Why?” I burst a laugh. “He was a nice kid. Incredibly strange, but nice.” “He got to tell you he liked you before I could. That song should have been dedicated to me.”
His attention moves back to my mouth, once again asking the question, “You single, Hal?” I finally give him the long-awaited answer, nodding to tell him yes. “Good.” He takes a slow predatorial step towards me, tone sharp and leaving no room for question. “Because we aren’t fucking friends.” With that declaration, he grips the side of my neck and slams his mouth onto mine.
“You single, Hal?” I finally give him the long-awaited answer, nodding to tell him yes. “Good.” He takes a slow predatorial step towards me, tone sharp and leaving no room for question. “Because we aren’t fucking friends.”
In all the times we’ve kissed before, he’s never kissed me like this. Like it’s the first time he’s come up for air in years. It’s frantic. It’s full of longing. But he has no idea how much I’ve longed for this. How I spent most of the past six years wanting exactly this. Wanting him.
Essentially, what this project is, is the opportunity to design the house I’ve always dreamed of us sharing. Only now, that home I’m designing isn’t ours. It’s his. Which is a hell of a reality check, if I do say so myself.
Hi. I need to chat with you about a few work-related things. Do you have time? Rio We’re about to land. I’ll call you as soon as we do. That’s okay. We can text. Okay. How’s your day going? Also, I want to kiss you again.
“Hallie,” he says, stopping me before I can make it out the door. “When I first started to try to break into this industry, I didn’t have more than ten dollars to my name. I spent my nights delivering pizza just so I could pay my rent because that’s how badly I wanted all of this.” He sweeps his arms out, as if to say this office, this view, this brand. “You shouldn’t be embarrassed to let people know how hard you’re willing to work to get what you want.”
“Am I taking the floor?” There’s an edge of humor in his tone, but knowing him, if I told him yes, he’d happily create a makeshift bed on the floor. “I’m pretty sure you stopped taking the floor when you were about seventeen.”
“Since when do you sleep in a shirt?” I say in retort. “Well, I didn’t think we were having that kind of sleepover.” “We’re not.” “And that’s why I’m still dressed, love. There’s not a world in which I get in a bed with you, even partially clothed, and all we do is sleep.”
“Most of what got me through the past six years was the belief that you were terrible, and I was better off without you. It’s been quite terrifying to realize…well, to remember, that you aren’t terrible at all.”
drop my hand flush to his neck and feel him swallow against my palm. “Do you remember earlier when you asked why I wanted you to come here?” I nod. “I didn’t give you the entire answer then. But if I were to give you the whole truth, I’d tell you that even though I may have gone six years without seeing you, the thought of going two weeks now feels impossible. And no, I don’t have the answer for why that is, but I want a chance to figure it out.”
“You don’t think you’ll forget about me?” He bursts a laugh. “You truly have no idea how ingrained you are in here, huh?” He taps his chest. “You’re basically living rent free, Hallie Hart.”
