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“I’m serious.” She sat up, brushing her hair back with a quick, frustrated swipe. “I mean, sure, this feels good right now”—his eyes simmered their agreement—“but what if we wreck everything? What if we do this, and it doesn’t work out, and we end up hating each other?”

A crease formed between his brows. “Then we just hate each other and move on. I don’t see the problem.”

Thankfully, there was no shortage of pillows. She grabbed one and smacked that stupid, smirking face.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“Great to see this friendship is just as important to you as it is to me.”

“What the hell does that even mean?”

“You just said you would be okay hating me, Skye. That you’d just… give up and leave.”

He caught the next pillow she lobbed at him, tossing it out of reach. “That’s not what I said.”

Taly gave him a long, blank look. “So, you really haven’t thought about this? You’re not at all worried about what might happen if we don’t work out?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“How is that possible?”

A shrug. “Because I love you.”

Her pulse skipped at the simple honesty of those words. “But what if that’s not enough? What if that goes away?”

“It won’t.”

“But what if it does?” Taly searched his eyes, trying to summon even a fraction of the certainty she saw staring back at her.

With a sigh, Skye sat up. She forced herself to look away. He was even more beautiful in motion, and no amount of sculptedmuscle or easy confidence was going to distract from what she already knew deep down.

Love was volatile, unpredictable, a force that remade everything it touched.

What if it remade them into strangers?

“Taly,” he said.

“Yes.”

“Are you going to look at me?”

“No.”

“Alright then.” Blankets rustled as he moved closer. “I hate to break it to you, but we already hate each other half the time. At least. And that wasbeforeI started strategizing ways to get you out of your clothes.”

He gave her a lazy grin—she couldn’t see it, but she could feel it aimed at the back of her head.

“Skye, I need you to take this seriously right now.”

“I am,” he said. “In the last day, I’ve considered walking your stubborn, well-toned ass back into the time loop at least a dozen times.”

She turned and punched his bicep. He went on.

“My point—No, shut up and listen,” he said when she opened her mouth. “My point is that even when I hate you, I still want you around.”

“That’s because you’re a masochist.”

“And you’re my favorite punishment.”