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.

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.

“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.”

“He’s never called me that before. I think he thought you were some random guy so he was pretending to mark his territory.” “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.”

“Wait. You’re just going to sit there while I work?” I nod. “Why?” She seems genuinely confused with those brows pinched together and her nose scrunched. And that makes two of us because only a couple of months ago I thought I’d never see her again, and now I don’t want to let her out of my sight. I shrug casually as if the answer were obvious. “I already told you, Hal. I missed you.”

“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.”

Even when we’re fighting, even when I think about all the shitty things from the past, being with her feels like…home.

“That boy is so in love with you,” Indy states. Spoken or unspoken, I feel the exact same way.

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