Page 86 of Rewind It Back

Hallie

It’s after midnight when I slip out the back door of the bar to find Rio leaning against his truck, hands slipped in his suit pants pockets, one leg crossed over the other, and waiting for me.

He looked sinfully delicious when I found him at the bar, wearing that deep maroon suit and white button-down shirt, freshly showered straight from the rink. He looks even more edible now since removing the jacket and rolling his shirt sleeves to reveal those stupidly cut forearms. He’s also added a dark gray beanie pulled down over his ears since coming outside. He’s been waiting for me out here since I told him I was going to get tipped out and head home for the night.

He was quite the distraction, sitting there at the corner of the bar, drinking glass after glass of water and watching me work. I felt his eyes on me the whole time. Felt myself glow under the attention, regardless that technically, I’m not supposed to want it.

When the bar slowed down for one of us to get cut for the night, I volunteered, knowing I was too distracted to be much help anyway and that Rio wasn’t going to leave untilIdid.

I didn’t tell him I was working tonight, didn’t tell him I didn’t bring my car downtown, but he seems pretty satisfied with himself that he figured that all out on his own, wearing that boyish grin on his lips that I missed and leaning against his truck.

He’s making it awfully difficult to remember why I didn’t kiss him the other night.

“Any chance you need a ride home?” he asks.

“As a matter of fact, I do.”

His smile turns proud.

Together, we round the hood of his car. Rio opens the passenger side door for me and right there, sitting on the seat, is a folded blanket and a small pillow.

I spin on my heel to face him, and I don’t think it’s simply the chilly Chicago air that’s making his olive-toned skin flushed.

“In case you wanted to get some sleep again.”

Once again, I don’t have words.

He rubs the back of his neck, that same nervous tic he’s always had. “I can throw it in the back.”

I’m really, really trying to remember why I didn’t kiss him the other night. Something about heartbreak and working together and friendship. Things that seem wholly unimportant to me now.

I only realize I didn’t respond when Rio makes a move to clear the seat off, but I’m quick to reach out and cover his hand with my own, stopping him.

“Please don’t.” My voice is soft. “Thank you.”

This is thoughtful in a way that’s overwhelming. Thoughtful in a way that’s almost uncomfortable because it’s been so long that someone’s thought of me and my needs that I’m out of practice with being looked after.

I have this strange urge to cry because it feels so foreign, yet at the same time, simple, having someone else look out for you. To care about the things that you might need, including an extra twenty minutes of sleep.

All other words are stuck in my throat and the silence is thick before Rio offers me a placating smile, slowly pulling his hand out from under mine. He rounds the truck to his side, but I watch him close his eyes momentarily, like he’s trying to swallow back a bit of embarrassment while simultaneously hoping to disappear.

Rio would have had to put these in here before leaving for his game, before he knew he would be driving me home. It’s exactly what the boy I was in love with would’ve done.

He turns on his truck as I work my hardest to swallow down the emotions. I unfold the blanket, draping it over my legs before tucking it under my thighs, really making a show of it so he can see I’m grateful that he thought of me because I’m having a hard time with the words. Angling my body towards him slightly, I wedge the pillow under my head on the side of the seat that’s closest to the middle, making myself comfortable.

That satisfied smile lifts on his lips again, his dimples sinking into his cheeks, and I don’t think I’ve seen anything more lovely.

Rio pulls out of the parking lot, and I don’t waste time, reaching for the truck’s screen display and finding his music app. Because for the first time in God knows how many years, this is a moment I want to remember. I want to listen to music and allow it to give me hope. I want to associate a song with a memory.

“What are we listening to?” I ask.

That prideful smile turns soft, maybe even sentimental. “Whatever you want, Hal. I’m good with anything.”

I pick something random, and we drive for the next twenty minutes without saying a word, just listening to music together.

Exactly like we used to.

All too soon, we near our exit on the expressway, and Rio merges to the right lane, getting ready to take it.

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