Page 157 of Rewind It Back

“I’m assuming you want something colorful and pretty that fits your vibe.”

She shakes her head no. “White walls. Boring. Like a big plain box, so when we get there, I can start renovating it to be ours. I’ll paint every wall exactly how we want them, and I can add all the finishes we decide on together. It’ll be my very first design project, and I’ll make it into our dream home.”

I’m having a hard time holding back my smile as I listen. “Is this house in the city or in the suburbs?”

“It depends on where we end up, I suppose. But ideally, we’d live a short drive from downtown so you can get to work, but in a family area that’s a bit quieter. Like the neighborhood we grew up in back home.”

I make a mental note of those items because if there’s one thing I’m going to do, it’s make sure this girl gets everything she wants in life.

“But what do you want?” she asks.

“You,” I answer quickly. “I just want you.”

“But you already have me.”

“Then I’m happy.”

“I’m happy too.”

“Happy birthday, baby.” I sigh. “My favorite day of the year.”

Chuckling, she leans her cheek back on my chest as we continue to lie together, listening to her playlist.

“Tell me more about our dream house, Hallie.”

And she does, while I lie there with a ridiculous smile on my face, listening as she goes into detail and paints a picture of the life we’re about to have.

Chapter 36

Hallie

I clock in on one of the computers before saying hello to my coworkers at the bar. It’s happy hour and there’s a Raptors game later tonight. With their arena only a few blocks away and still a couple of hours before the puck drop, this place is packed.

And regardless that I will probably make good money tonight, I have no desire to be here.

This is my last shift of the week, and I made such good tips from the previous nights that I was tempted to try to get this shift covered. I’m not entirely sure why I didn’t, other than I’ve never given up a shift before.

You could say I officially have senioritis from this job. My internship at the design firm will be over in a couple of months and with how smoothly Rio’s home project is going and the way my social media content has been blowing up the last few weeks, thanks to some of Chicago’s biggest names continually sharing it, a full-time position at Tyler Braden Interiors feels inevitable.

Tyler has said as much.

I can finally see the light at the end of the tunnel with a higher salary and more free time, but I wish that time was already here. I’m enjoying my personal life far too much these days to bury myself in work.

Carson, or Ken as Rio still refers to him, pushes through the swinging side door that connects the back of the bar to the storage room. He stops short when he sees me standing at the computer. “I thought you were off tonight?”

I furrow my brow. “I thoughtyouwere off tonight.”

“Shit,” I hear from behind me. “I was trying to get here before he did.”

Turning, I find Rio pushing himself through the crowd to get to the bar. Which isn’t all that difficult for him because people are staring at him in disbelief, shocked that one of their favorite players is here. It’s the same way they look at him almost every night he shows up to wait for my shift to be over.

He’s in his game-day suit and looks sinfully hot.

“Hey.” There’s plenty of surprise in my tone because he should be on his way to the arena right now. “What are you doing here? I thought I wasn’t going to see you again before you left.”

He leaves straight for the airport tonight from his game, which is why we said our goodbyes this morning when he dropped me off at work.

“What do you think about coming to my game tonight?” he asks. “We’re playing against Boston, and I could use my good luck charm.”

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