Rewind It Back (Windy City, #5)

by Liz Tomforde

She used to steal all my thoughts. She used to occupy my entire existence. I almost forgot what that felt like. I’ve spent six years subconsciously comparing every date to her. Comparing their laugh to hers. Their kindness to hers. Their confidence to hers. Their taste in music to hers.

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.”

“Well, maybe that was the first time you were told, but I know for a fact it wasn’t the first time someone liked you.”

“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.”

Lmao

I want to kiss her. God, do I want to kiss her. I’ve never wanted anything more, but what if I’m bad at it? What if I fuck up and hit her teeth or something? What if I ruin

First relationships are so funny

her first kiss? She’d never be able to get a do-over.

“Good.” He takes a slow predatorial step towards me, tone sharp and leaving no room for question. “Because we aren’t fucking friends.”

“I don’t know. Because I always used to, I guess, and I’ve been feeling more like myself again lately.” She looks up at me. “For the first time in a long time.”

I slip my hand into hers again, letting our fingers lace. “Yeah. I completely get what you mean.”

Awe

“Well, I know that technically, these are your best memories, but they’re mine too. Meeting on that roof, listening to music. Getting the opportunity to fall in love with you is my best memory, and all I can do is hope that one day you’ll let me do it again.”

“Yes, but they’re not Miller’s hot dad’s tattoos.”

Lol

My birthday. March eighth. Thirty-eight. He’s been wearing my birthdate on his jersey for six years and I had no idea. He slowly turns over his shoulder to look at me. I lean my chin on my arm that’s resting on him, a painfully big smile on my mouth. “So, you like really like me, huh?” I tease quietly for only him to hear.

So cute. I think I am going to vomit.

“Rio, playing for Boston is your childhood dream.” I shake my head. “You’re my childhood dream.”