Page 44 of Rewind It Back

But he can’t, so I indulge in checking him out without the consequences of getting caught.

I understand that technically he’s the same man I’ve always known, but so much of him has changed. I thought he was the cutest boy I’d ever met back when he was shorter, had acne, wore braces, and didn’t have a natural athletic bone in his body. But now?Good God.If I allowed myself to look at him in that way again and wasn’t jaded from the past six years, I’d be in trouble.

After one final glance, I turn off the porch light and it’s only then Rio finally walks back home.

Chapter 10

Hallie

I hold my hand up to knock on Rio’s front door, but instead, decide to let it drop to my side.

Theoretically, I knew it might be strange working on his house, but I didn’t give myself the opportunity to really let it sink in just how uncomfortable this could be. I didn’t give this first walk-through a second thought until the anxiety kept me up for most of the night, tossing and turning in my bed.

We’ve seen each other a couple of times in passing this week. He was mowing his lawn one morning when I left for work and was then grabbing his mail around the time I made it home from my shift at the bar. I didn’t want to question why he might be getting his mail at two in the morning, so I let myself chalk it up to poor sleep.

There haven’t been any more words exchanged. Only small acknowledgments that the other exists—a casual wave or tip of the chin. Because we’refriends.

I could laugh at the thought.

We’re not friends. We’re just trying not to kill each other. And personally, I’m trying not to rip off his clothes.

The clock on my phone switches to three p.m., so I, once again, raise my hand to knock, but before I can, the front door swings open.

Rio is standing there, beanie pulled down over his ears, joggers cinching at his ankles, right above his bare feet. But that’s not what has my mouth hanging open. It’s the fully unbuttoned flannel cuffed around his elbows that he’s wearing without another shirt underneath.

Like a hot lumberjack.

There’s enough dark hair on his chest to remind me that we really were young the last time we saw each other, and when my eyes trail down to his abdomen, I find myself questioning what happened to all the junk food we consumed when we were kids. Trailing further south, that dark hair starts again, just under his belly button, creating a visual path to a part of him I’ve thought about far too often over the years.

“Hallie.”

My attention pulls up to meet his. “What?”

“I asked if you were going to put your hand down.”

Yeah. I’m standing here like an idiot with my hand still held up, ready to knock on the door and gawking at the guy like I’ve never seen a shirtless man before. Like I’ve never seen a shirtlesshimbefore.

He’s your client.

I quickly wrap my airborne hand around the books I have held tightly to my chest.

“That was creepy,” I say, turning it back on him. “I was about to knock on the door.”

He gestures to the doorbell camera, crossing his arms and leaning a shoulder against the doorframe. “Not as creepy as it was for me to watch you standing and staring at my door for multiple minutes. Figured I’d come check to see if you were coming to our meeting.”

“Well...” I stumble. “Are you sureyou’reready for this meeting? Do you want to, I don’t know, put a shirt on?”

His playful smirk lifts way too fast. “Nothing you haven’t seen before, Hart.”

“Please stop talking.”

“You were the one looking.”

I straighten my spine. “Can we get to work now,friend?”

That knowing smile grows. “Sure. Come on in,friend.”

As he pushes off the door, letting me past him, his flannel shirt opens, allowing me to catch a peek of black ink sprawling over part of the left side of his chest and ribs.

---