Page 161 of Rewind It Back

“You as well.”

He returns his attention to Rio. “Do you think I could talk to you for a moment in private?”

Rio looks down both ends of the hallway. “We can talk now. Anything you need to say, you can say in front of Hallie.”

Will keeps his voice quiet. “The reason I’m at the game tonight is because Boston’s general manager invited me to join them in their box.”

Rio’s brows lift in surprise. “Really?”

“Apparently, they’re not planning on re-signing Eriksson after this season.”

“No shit?”

“Who is Eriksson?” I ask naively.

“He’s one of Boston’s defensemen,” Rio explains. “And his salary is about the same as mine, which means...”

“They’re making room in their budget for you,” Will states.

I watch as the realization sinks in for Rio and this childlike smile graces his mouth.

“Of course, nothing is official,” Will continues. “And any discussion I have with their GM tonight is all hypothetical, but they’re making it clear that they want you.”

“I’ve always dreamed of playing for the Boston Bobcats.”

I squeeze Rio’s hand in mine. He was always a huge fan of our local team. His childhood room was covered in their memorabilia.

“I know. And we’re going to make it happen.” Will gives Rio’s shoulder a smack. “Good luck out there tonight. I’ll call you after and let you know what I find out. Hallie, I’m sure we’ll be seeing plenty of each other in the future. Have fun.”

He takes off with that, leaving the two of us alone.

“That’s exciting!”

There’s an edge of disbelief on Rio’s face. “I knew it was a possibility of happening, but their lack of cap space in the budget was always going to be an issue.”

“And now it’s not.”

“And now it’s not,” he repeats.

I swear I watch him go through every emotion. Excitement. Disbelief. Concern. Sadness when he looks at me and remembers I won’t be going with him right away. But then that all settles and he seems centered and content, and I’m hoping that the reminder I gave him in the car is repeating in his mind. That whether we’re living next door to each other or there’s a few hundred miles between us, we’re good.

We continue down the hall, approaching a door.

“All right,” he says, “this is where I leave you. Are you sure you’re okay?”

With a bit more confidence thanks to Rio’s little speech from earlier, I nod.

But before he opens the door, he turns to face me. “I know this is just another in-season game and there’s not much significance to it for anyone else, but it feels significantly more important now that you’re here. You should’ve been at my very first pro game, Hal. But seeing you in my jersey again?” He shakes his head in disbelief. “It feels nostalgic. Finding you in the crowd was always my favorite part of my high school games.”

I lightly laugh. “You never told me that.”

“Every week I looked forward to game day like it was Christmas morning because I viewed it as my chance to impress you. Today feels like that, but amped up to a million.”

Reaching up, I wrap my arms around his neck. “I don’t think I could be more impressed by you if I tried. And I just feel lucky that I got a chance to see it all happen.”

“That’s exactly how I feel about you renovating my house. Do you know how many times I watched you repaint your bedroom walls growing up?”

“Just be glad I’m not still in that lemon-yellow phase now that I’m working on your house.”

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