Page 77 of A Thousand Second Chances

Quinn nods, but her gaze continues to flick between us. “Noused toabout it if you ask me,” she says, earning a blush from me and a glare from Chris. She turns toward where a band is setting up in the corner of the dining room. “But suit yourselves. I hope our server comes soon. I’mstarving.”

And just like that, I’ve officially come out to someone other than Chris…for the duration of this loop, at least. My heart is racing, and my stomach roils, but the world didn’t come to an end. Maybe there’s hope for me yet.

By the time the band starts to play, we’ve all ordered a few drinks, and the mood has lightened considerably. Quinn’s a blast to be around like always, and as the night wears on, I scoot closer and closer to Chris until I somehow wind up with my head resting on his shoulder and our hands entwined in his lap. I glance away from the band at one point to find Quinn watching us with a smug expression. I raise a brow, but she only grins and looks away. I fight down the faint twinge of nerves that flicker in my chest and remain right where I am.

In that moment, there’s nowhere I’d rather be.

When Chris glances at me after a slower song ends, the unguarded emotion in his eyes steals my breath. I can’t remember ever being this content, and I think (hope) he feels the same.

I still love you. I never stopped.

I want to shout the words loud enough for everyone in the bar to hear. I want to lean in and capture his mouth with mine, claiming him. I want to seize everything I’d been too afraid to allow myself back in high school, even if only for this singular fleeting moment.

But I don’t.

The words die on my lips, and I settle for answering Chris’ smile with one of my own until he turns back to the band. The warmth within me fades, dulling, and I cling even more desperately to Chris’ hand beneath the table. As if that half-hidden touch could ever be enough.

It’s after eleven by the time we finally meander back to the Royal Lilac. The music follows us out. It’ll likely keep going right up until the time loop resets, but I don’t want to end this near-perfect day drunk in a bar. I sneak a glance at Chris. If I can’t muster the courage to admit how I feel in public, I can at least do my best to show him in private.

Despite the late hour, Oshkoff awaits us downstairs. We’ve never purposefully tested her commitment to chewing us out, and while she lays into us about shirking our responsibilities and squandering my father’s philanthropic gift, I wonder fleetingly if she’d still be waiting here for us when 1:15 AM rolls around and consigns her fury to oblivion.

That’d be sometruededication to discipline.

Thankfully, unlike most of the times Chris and I skip out on the day’s designated itinerary, we have a secret weapon tonight.

“I’m sorry, Professor Oshkoff,” Quinn bawls, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her back heaves with sobs. “This is all my fault. I w-wanted to do the right thing. They were only h-helping me like I asked.”

Oshkoff hesitates, some of her anger dissipating as her brow furrows. “Explain, Ms. Pearson.”

That gives Quinn the chink in Oshkoff’s armor she needs. She spins some crazy story of familial drama involving her ex-boyfriend and a wild animal attack, and before long, it’s Oshkoff who is comfortingQuinn.

“There, there, dear. It’ll be all right.”

Quinn nods, swiping at her eyes. “T-thank you, professor, for being s-so understanding. If it’s okay, I think I’m going to head to bed.”

“Of course. After the day you’ve had, you certainly deserve some rest.”

Oshkoff starts up the stairs with Quinn in tow, pausing to glance back at Chris and me. “I’m proud of you boys,” she says. Her gaze locks on me. “And I’m certain your father would be proud of you, too.”

Chris and I share a similar, incredulous look as Oshkoff and Quinn vanish upstairs. “What the hell just happened?” I whisper. “Was that some sort of witchcraft?”

Chris snorts a laugh. “That’s Quinn for you. She can’t talk her way out of everything, but she can come pretty damn close.”

I shake my head, staring after them. “Thank God she only uses her powers for good.”

Chris pats my back. “Yeah, you just keep telling yourself that.”

His hand lingers, sending little jolts of electricity tingling up my spine. The air between us becomes charged, and I meet his eyes, only to see doubt warring with his obvious arousal.

“So, my room or yours,” I say quickly, suddenly terrified he’s about to call it a night.

Chris’ breath catches, his eyes darkening as he shifts closer. I’m relieved to see that flicker of hesitation gone…for now, at least. “Yours,” he says, the warm exhalation caressing my cheek. “It’s closer.”

We stare at each other a moment longer, then rush toward the stairs, hand in hand. I’m almost at the mid-landing when I glimpse a figure from the corner of my eye and pull up short.

“There’s someone down there,” I hiss to Chris.

He pauses, glancing back. “Oh, yeah. That’s Ms. Lindman. She always stays up reading Saturday night. Remember?”