Rewind It Back (Windy City, #5)

by Liz Tomforde

There are a few tattoos, and I’d call all of them new because they’re new to me, but I couldn’t tell you what the others are. My attention is fixated on only one. “Hallie,” Rio says tentatively. “Say something.” I can’t. I’m speechless. Because how am I supposed to speak when my eyes are glued to what is essentially my last name, tattooed as a heart, inked over his actual heart? Hesitantly, I reach out, gently running my fingers over the black ink, following the curves and the dip until I stop to cover the overdrawn portion where it was supposed to stop, but never did. My heart. His heart, really, when I think about how many times he fixated on my signatures from the mixtapes and CDs I gave him. It’s my favorite part. “In case you’re still wondering if I ever forgot about you,” he says softly, “I got this three years ago. Three years after I saw you last.” “Why?” “I’m pretty sure you know the answer to that, Hal.” “Tell me anyway.” I can’t stop running my fingers over it, pausing at the same point where he used to stop. It’s an exact replica of my handwriting and everything, clearly taken from one of those tapes or CDs. “Because it’s always been us.” With his knuckle, he tilts my chin up so I look at him. “Even when I thought I didn’t want it to be, I knew it was us. I sat there getting this permanently inked onto my skin, trying to convince myself I was only getting it as a reminder that love existed when the whole fucking time, I knew it only existed with you.”