Rewind It Back (Windy City, #5)

by Liz Tomforde

Part of me thinks I should stop trying. I’ve looked nonstop for years, ever since I moved to Chicago, and I’m starting to believe the real thing doesn’t exist anymore.

My wish is the same as it’s been all year. It’s the same thing I wish for every time I pluck a dandelion from some grass, see a falling star in the sky, or notice when it’s 11:11 on the clock.