Page 23 of Rewind It Back

“Rio, I’m begging you.”

“Well, stop begging then, Hallie. It’s not going to work. There’s not a dollar amount in the world you can bribe me with to allow you to spend every day of the next six months in my house.”

Ouch.

I nod my head once. “Well, I guess it’s good that I don’t have a dollar to spare for that bribe, even if I wanted to.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“It means that I need this job, Rio. Idesperatelyneed this job. Do you really think I’d allow myself to come begging to you if I didn’t?”

His eyes once again search my face for the answer. “Why?”

I can’t give him the detailed explanation—that I need this salary to pay off my debt—because there’s not a chance in hell I’m going to explainwhyI’m in that kind of debt. And I know him. I know that will be his next question.

But it’s clear I need to give him something.

“I’ve got a shot at my dream job here.”

“Okay. How about you find a dream job in a different city then?”

I don’t let that response linger. “I’m interning for this big-time firm, and I could get hired on as a full-time designer at the end of it, but I need another project to showcase what I’ve got.”

“Find a different project then,” he says simply. “Preferably in a different city.”

“Can you get over that already? I’m here and I’m not going anywhere, so deal with it.”

His jaw hardens.

“As far as the project goes,” I continue, “it’s not that easy to find a new one. Not for an intern, at least. I got lucky with Wren’s house and even luckier when you accidentally asked for me.”

At that moment, a few of Rio’s coaches skate off the ice.

“Leaving for the airport in ten, DeLuca,” one of them says as they pass by us.

“Yes, sir.” He nods. “I’m on my way.”

The coaches all slip into the locker room.

Rio’s defenses seem to fall a bit once it’s truly only us again, like he’s tired of all of this. “I don’t want to hire you, Hal.”

As much as I want to, I don’t correct the nickname he used to call me by.

“I know.”

“I don’t want you in my house. I don’t want to have to see you every day.” He runs a hand through his hair, and I watch the way his fingers flex around his texture. “Fuck, Hallie, before Saturday, I thought I’d never see you again.”

The words come out with a painful edge, and I’d be lying if I said they didn’t slip past my armor and land a hit. Most of me never thought I’d see him again either.

“I know.”

Just when I think he may change his mind and tell me he’ll let me do the project, he grabs his boombox off the bench and exhales. “I have to go. We’re leaving on a road trip for the week.”

Every part of me wants to ask him if he’s already called the firm and requested my replacement or if he’s planning to call later. But he seems overwhelmed just from my being here, so I don’t.

Instead, I stop him by asking, “What’s up with the ancient boombox?”

He rears back playfully. “Watch yourself, Hart. I believe the term you’re looking for isclassic.”

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