Page 108 of Rewind It Back

“Are you excited to go home?”

That question gives me pause, because for a moment, my first thought is that Iamhome. But then I realize she doesn’t mean this version of home, with her in my house.

“Yeah, I am. I love that city, and I get to see my mom.”

Hallie smiles weakly, and I can tell she’s trying her best to be excited for me to go home. But I also know the mention of my mom could bring down the mood, so I swiftly change the subject.

“I need to finish packing but do your thing. If you want, you could come upstairs and hang out with me when you’re done.”

She shakes her head. “I’m here to work.”

“Okay.” I tuck her hair behind her ear because I can’t keep my fucking hands off her, and even though Hallie says she’s here to work, she still leans into my touch. “Don’t leave without saying goodbye.”

Leaving her in the kitchen, I head for the stairs and I’m halfway up when I pause.

Because there’s music playing throughout my whole house.

Music that Hallie put on.

I feel the smile begin to lift on my lips because the first day Hallie came to work on my house, she said she didn’t do that anymore. But clearly, things have changed since then.

Chapter 24

Hallie

I know I shouldn’t want to spend time with him. I want to be petty. I want to hold a grudge the way I so easily did for the past six years. But the more time I spend with him, the more the armor cracks.

The highlights of my days revolve around him lately. Him popping into my work or leaving a coffee for me on my doorstep. Little moments that tell me he’s thinking of me.

But it’s not him thinking of me now, with me living right next door, that has me wary of jumping back into things. It’s how easily he forgot I existed in the years we were apart. How seemingly forgettable I was to him.

Especially when he never once left my mind.

But I should get his opinion on these backsplash options. It’s his house after all, and sure, we’re still weeks away from needing these types of decisions to be made, but why not get ahead of schedule? We can discuss as he packs for his trip. And if he decides quickly and I end up hanging out with him for a while longer, well, then it is what it is.

Taking two options with me, I head for the stairs.

His bedroom door is left open, so I slip inside, finding his partially packed suitcase on the bed. He’s not in here, though. Both of his closets are left open, including the one he blocked me from going into last time I was up here.

It’s like a beacon, calling me to it, so I take a step in that direction, only to stop myself before I can take a second look.

As much as I want to, I can’t do that.

Then I’m completely distracted when a distant and breathy “fuck” echoes from his attached bathroom, instantly stealing all my attention. I whip in that direction, wanting to hear it again, and wondering if that was real.

I don’t breathe. I don’t move. I don’t make a sound as I listen harder, trying to convince myself that my ears were deceiving me.

They weren’t. That’s confirmed by the sound of the shower water running and muffling a moan.

As my hand slaps across my mouth to keep myself from making a sound, my eyes go impossibly wide.

Is he...

“Yes,” he hisses. “Fuck.”

Holy shit, he is.

I gently set the tile samples on the bed, not wanting them to make any noise when I cautiously pad across the carpet, keeping light on my toes, to press my ear against the bathroom door.

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