Rewind It Back (Windy City, #5)

by Liz Tomforde

Instead, I stop him by asking, “What’s up with the ancient boombox?” He rears back playfully. “Watch yourself, Hart. I believe the term you’re looking for is classic.” I try not to let the smile tick up on my lips, but it finds its way there for a brief moment. “What’s up with the classic boombox?” He shrugs. “It still works. Why replace what’s not broken? And the guys can give me shit for it all they want, but I’m the only one on the team with good taste in music.” “You’re welcome for that.” 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. “Bullshit,” he says through his laughter. “You’re welcome for your taste in music.” “What kind of delusional state are you living in, DeLuca?” Those dimples sink into his cheeks, that glimpse of my old Rio coming back to life. “There was a solid year when you only listened to boy bands. And when we were together, you wouldn’t let me listen to anything else either.” “Exactly! It’s called taste. Look it up.” “You once told me the wrong band’s name when we were listening to a mixtape you made me because you genuinely didn’t know the difference between them. They all sounded the exact same.” I laugh and it feels nice. Light and nostalgic. “God, how do you remember that? That was forever ago.” “Hard to forget the years you had shit taste in music, Hal. It’s been burned into my memory and not in a good way.” His attention drifts back to the locker r...