Rewind It Back (Windy City, #5)

by Liz Tomforde

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.

“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.”

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. I haven’t spoken Hallie’s name in six years, but she has been living rent free in my mind while I try to replicate what we had before everything went to shit.

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.”

Rio DeLuca can go ahead and fuck himself.

She once went through this phase where she painted each of her nails a different color, simply because she couldn’t choose one,

I take my time choosing a song from the track list because I know this is a moment I’ll want to remember, and whichever song I choose is going to be one I put on next year’s mixtape because I’ll want to rewind it back and play it on repeat for a long time to come.

“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.”

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.

“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.

“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.”

So, yeah. I haven’t said anything to her about how I feel, but she’s my favorite person. The person I enjoy spending time with the most, and I can’t ignore that it feels like the same thing my parents have.

I was ten years old when I got to choose my number for the first time, and I didn’t know what to choose, so I picked my favorite day. I thought I was so cool picking my birthday. Eighty-three. August third.

She smiles down at me softly. “It was the first time I realized that you may feel the same way about me as I’ve always felt about you.” It may be her birthday, but I swear, with that single sentence, she just made all my wishes come true.

“You drive me insane, you know that?” “Hmm,” he hums. “That makes two of us, love.”

“Nice game tonight, thirty-eight,”

“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.

Rio. Hallie. Don’t be needy. I have to get my job done. Needy is literally my number one personality trait.

I’ve never been known the way she knew me, and it’s becoming evident that hasn’t changed one bit.

“I’m not going to bite, Hal. Well, unless you ask me to.”

“But I’m not your person.” My throat burns while saying it, and the words taste like a lie as soon as they’re out of my mouth. “Yeah,” he chuckles without humor. “That’s what I spent the past six years trying to convince myself of too. But I’m tired of lying, Hallie. Aren’t you?”

“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.”

“I love that dress on you, baby.” “Thank you. It’s⁠—” “Take it off.”

“Take it off.”

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?

“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.”

“Holy fuck, love.”

I didn’t know what number to choose when I was a kid, so I picked the number of my favorite day, which was, of course, my birthday. August third. Eighty-three.” Realization finally dawns on me. I forgot that his old number was his birthdate. Which means his new number is… “When I got to training camp in Chicago, they asked me if I wanted to keep eighty-three, but I decided it was time to change it to my actual favorite day.” My birthday. March eighth. Thirty-eight. He’s been wearing my birthdate on his jersey for six years and I had no idea.

She looks up at me. “What happened while you were listening to this song?” I smile at her softly. “This is the song I was listening to when I signed my contract extension with the Chicago Raptors.”

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

“Playing for Chicago feels like I’m playing for my hometown because it is my home now. You’re my home. Being loved by you for the rest of my life is the only dream of mine that’s never wavered. There’s no doubt in my mind that I’m already exactly where I want to be.”

“Friends are the family you choose, and I’ve got to say, I’ve got the best family a guy could ask for.”

I feel so incredibly blessed that I get to go through life with these nine people. Besides Indy, we’re all a bunch of transplants from other places who found a home in the windy city…and with each other. I’ll speak for all ten of us when I say, there’s nowhere else we’d rather be.