Page 63 of A Thousand Second Chances

My heartbeat quickens, though whether in a good or bad way, I’m not sure. Fuck, it’s my turn to say something. The silence is stretching too long now, going from uncomfortable to downright painful.

But what are you supposed to do when your ex-boyfriend asks you out in the middle of an unending time loop?

My first instinct is to flee—bolt from the cafe, run up the stairs, and barricade myself in my room until this cycle resets with a brand-new day. A do-over. Except, of course, that won’t work—not where Chris is concerned. He’ll be swept along with me, and we’ll be right back here again tomorrow.

Chris’ hands slowly unclench from his cup. His eyes finally flick to mine, and he smiles. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You asked for crazy, out-of-the-box ideas, and I obliged. Forget about it. I was only kidding.”

Except he wasn’t. I may not be the best at reading people, but evenIcan tell he’s lying. And it occurs to me in a sudden flash of understanding that this is like that winter break all over again. The instant I’d started to feel overwhelmed, I’d shut down and pulled away. Chris put himself out there, and I’d just slammed the door in his face as surely as if I’d actually bolted upstairs.

But what else am Isupposedto do? I don’t want to hurt him again by rejecting him, but how would entertaining his insane idea lead to anything but the same outcome? I’d let him down once before—what’s to say I wouldn’t do it all over again? Not to mention the crippling anxiety that churns through me whenever I even consider coming out. When I set out to repair our damaged friendship, this wasnotthe outcome I’d had in mind.

Chris monitors my mini meltdown, probably waiting for me to accept his flimsy excuse and laugh it off with him. To pretend it had all been some big joke so we could go back to what we’d been doing all this time. The temptation to do just that is almost irresistible.

But…what exactlyhavewe been doing?

I think of the hours and hours we’ve spent together these past few weeks—all the little ways this infinite Saturday has changed even while staying the same and growing more familiar.I remember that day at the adventure park, how scared I’d been to mess up or injure myself—and how thrilled, howliberatedI’d felt getting down off that zipline and watching Chris hurtle toward me with a wide grin.

We’ve had our arguments, sure, our rough patches, especially there at the beginning. But there have been quiet moments too, like yesterday at Quinn’s car. The moments where I dared to lower my guard enough to let him in…and found him eager to do the same.

It’s painfully clear now that we hadn’t been ready to make a real relationship work before. Oh, we’d tried, but when push came to shove, the bonds between us had proved too fragile to survive. But here? Now? Separated from the demands of the real world and safe in our little pocket of time, could we do better? Bemore?

Suddenly, terrifyingly, I realize I want Chris to convince me.

I clear my throat, going for nonchalance despite my pounding heart. “A date? Interesting approach. Care to explain your reasoning?”

Chris studies me, his lips parting in evident surprise. Blushing slightly, he says, “Well, I keep coming back to the same question:why us?Out of everyone who could’ve ended up trapped in this thing, what’s so special about two college guys on a school trip? And the only thing I can come up with to set us apart is our past, um,connection.”

He lowers his voice at the end, and I realize with a start that he’s trying to be discreet for my sake. I’d been so busy obsessing over how to respond, the thought of other people overhearing hadn’t even crossed my mind. I glance around now and see no one paying any attention to us. Well, except for Owen, who keeps throwing me death glares from behind the counter, but he’s too far away to overhear.

And while I’m certain the feeling won’t last, for now a surge of optimism washes away my usual trepidation. This is all pretend anyway, right? A—a practice run. The idea manages to be both freeing and nauseating simultaneously.

I focus back on Chris, who’s still waiting for my reply. He’s trying to act casual about it, but I can feel the tension radiating off him. I choose my words carefully. “I dunno. That seems like a bit of a stretch. Besides, why would the universe care about our…connection?”

“Who knows? But I mean, the originalGroundhog Daywas a romance, right? The guy repeated the same day over and over until he nailed it.”

“Like Quinn pointed out that first loop, I’m pretty sure it was more about him learning not to be an ass. Besides, that was amovie. I don’t think the same rules apply here.”

He waves a hand. “We can’t say for surewhatrules apply at this point. Our history is the only thing I can think of that makes us unique.”

A slightly manic laugh bubbles out of me. “So, what, the universe is playing matchmaker? Like it’s cosmic fate or destiny or something that we end up together?”

Chris’ blush deepens as he plays with the lid of his cup, twisting it around and around with his long fingers. “When you put it like that, it sounds a little ridiculous.”

I hesitate, torn between fighting for or against his crazy suggestion. Turbulent thoughts leave my head spinning. What exactly is Chris proposing here, anyway? Is this only about leaving no stone unturned in our quest to escape? Or is he genuinely interested in getting back together? And what happens if his plan works and the time loop ends? Where does that leave us once we’re back in the real world? Where does that leaveme?

Chris studies me for a long moment, and I wonder how much of my internal freakout is visible on my face. Finally, he huffs and crosses his arms, averting his eyes. “Never mind. It was a dumb idea anyway.”

He starts to rise. Despite my conflicted emotions, panic grips me at the thought of letting him walk away, so I say the first thing that pops into my head. “All right. I’ll do it.”

Chris pauses. Blinks. He stays frozen in place, half-risen, as he scrutinizes me. “You sure? We don’t have to.”

I resist the urge to roll my eyes at our abrupt role reversal. “Yes, I’m sure.” He’s still watching me, waiting for an explanation. I’m not about to confess the true depth of my inner turmoil, so I hedge and say, “You’re right. Every idea is worth trying. And it’s not like we don’t have the time.”

The joke’s feeble, but Chris offers a sympathetic chuckle and sinks back into his seat. I exhale a long, slow breath and try not to think too hard about why I was so desperate to stop him from giving up when it probably would have been for the best.

“All right, then.” He fixes me with a more genuine smile that warms my cheeks. “Sounds like a plan.”

I glance down, playing with the wrapper from my muffin. “So, about that…whatisthe plan? Should we talk about options or—”