Page 58 of Rewind It Back

“Okay.”

“You didn’t text me back.”

“You didn’t give me anything to text back to. Hey?” she asks, mimicking my text. “You’re better than that, Rio.” Hallie nods towards the entrance of the door, the tension diffused. “I have to get back to work.”

She walks past me, but before she can get to the door, I reach across her body, grabbing the handle and keeping it closed. Keeping us alone outside.

She slowly lifts her gaze to look at me, our faces mere inches from one another.

“Don’t let him call you that,” I say quietly. “He doesn’t fucking know you.”

She lifts a brow. “And you think you still do?”

“Yeah, Hal. I still know you. And you still know me. Better than anyone.”

I watch her throat move through a swallow. “He’s never called me that before. I think he thought you were some random guy so he was pretending to mark his territory.”

“Yeah, well you’re not his, so tell him to keep his hands to himself too.”

Her eyes drop to my mouth. “I’m not yours either.”

We’ll see.

It’s the first thought that runs through my head, when I’m so used to that anger towards her being the inclination.

I wet my lips, leaning in awfully close. “You sure look good in my shirt for not being mine.”

“Get fucked, DeLuca.”

I smile as I open the door. “Would love to. You just let me know when and where, Hart.”

She enters the loud bar, throwing a middle finger over her shoulder for me to see.

But all it does is make my smile grow because Hallie can pretend to be unaffected by me, by us, by our history, but she’s still wearing my shirt when she gets back to work and looks damn good in it.

The last of my teammates left in rideshares by the time the bar closed. I hung out with them inside, drinking water and making sure there was a generous tip attached to our bill until we got kicked out.

I didn’t bother Hallie the rest of the night but I sure as fuck kept my eye on her.

And just as she always has been, she was personable and kind, even when people turned into drunken assholes. Behind the bar, she would listen intently when someone decided she was the one they wanted to spill every detail of their lives to. She was nonstop on her feet, pouring drinks, and cleaning up broken glass.

And that wasaftera whole day working at the design firm and my house.

Once we all got kicked out for closing time, I pulled my truck into the same lot, behind her car, and waited.

Ken Doll walks out with her, laughing at something she says, and as much as I hate that her smile isn’t directed at me, the guy is kind of massive and I don’t hate the idea of knowing he walks her out each night.

Surprisingly, the grin on her face doesn’t fade when she spots me getting out of my truck. Her expression doesn’t waver, as if she knew I’d be waiting for her after her shift.

But when he spots me, Ken takes off towards his car after giving Hallie a quick wave.

And she’s still wearing my shirt.

“I want to hate that guy,” I tell her, meeting her at her car, but keeping my eye on his retreating back. “Do you work with him every night?”

“Most nights. If I’m not working with him, I’m working with his boyfriend.”

That earns my attention and when I whip in her direction, she’s got this shit-eating grin on her face.

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