The Snowball Effect ch. 19-21 (Patreon)

And we're back!

The text is here in the post, as well as in a pdf at the bottom.

Obviously, as the release date looms closer, the chapters will start to come a lot quicker now :) I have far less time to agonize over them before giving patreon access lol. The majority of the story is currently with my editor, but as I comb through my chapters, I'll likely be posting batches of them every few days on here for the next couple of weeks!

---------------The Snowball Effect--------------------

Chapter Nineteen

“Regan, this is the best fucking cookie I’ve ever had in my life! I’m going to enter this recipe in the Primrose Grove baking contest,” Phoebe announced. “Let’s see if Marcia Weatherby and her little chocolate chunks can beat these,” she huffed.

Bea knocked her shoulder against Phoebe’s, rolling her eyes up at Regan from across the counter. “This recipe belongs to Regan; if anyone is going to enter it in the contest, it should be Sherry. Regan’s dating her granddaughter.”

Everyone turned their attention to Sherry, who offered a heavy shrug. “Oh, no. I’m not taking responsibility for any baking competitions. Phoebe, the recipe is yours… especially if it’ll help you beat Marcia,” she muttered.

Delighted by the assisted living home gossip, Regan beamed. “I’ll allow anyone in our quad here to use the recipe, and I’ll be so freaking pumped if we win!”

“Regan, you have the right kind of spirit!” Phoebe nodded at her in approval.

Regan grinned back, before the clock on the wall behind Phoebe caught her attention, and her mouth fell open in a gasp. “Oh! It’s five!”

“Got a hot date?” Phoebe asked, wiggling her eyebrows.

Bea nudged her, shaking her head… only to turn her attention to Regan as well. “Bad manners aside – you got a date?”

“Um…” Regan dug her teeth into her bottom lip, unsure of exactly how to answer.

The reality was that she did not have a date, and she knew that.

But the reality was also that she hadn’t been able to actually talk to Emma since yesterday afternoon at Everly’s birthday party. Since her big confession.

After the cake cutting, Regan had wound up in conversation after conversation with a multitude of parents, complimenting her baked goods and asking for her business card. These people believed Regan had business cards!

Even though she’d been flattered and awed that so many people had enjoyed her desserts, she’d desperately wanted to talk to Emma. But she’d made herself linger and chat with the PTA parents, because she was trying to give Emma some time to take in everything Regan had told her. She knew Emma really well, now, and she knew Emma needed to process.

By the time she had some actual breathing room, over an hour had passed and the party had been winding down.

Unfortunately, Sherry hadn’t been feeling too well after several hours out in the heat and humidity, and Emma had approached Regan to let her know she was going to bring her gram home.

Regan had stayed for a while longer – mostly because she had to collect some of the fancy food storage containers she’d brought the desserts in, and return them to Topped Off. Once she’d gotten home that evening, though, Emma had texted her to let her know that she was going to stay at Gram’s for a while to make sure she was doing okay.

Regan had fallen asleep by the time Emma had gotten home, and – unfortunately for Regan – she’d had to get to Topped Off by six this morning.

She was waiting on tenterhooks to actually see and speak to Emma again. It was making her so… anxious? Exhilarated? Energized? All of the above? That even though Regan had gotten off of her shift four hours ago, she hadn’t been able to sit around by herself at home, waiting for Emma.

So, would she say that she had a hot date?! Not exactly. She had to talk to a hot woman about the potential ramifications of her feelings declaration.

But, with Emma’s grandmother sitting right here, she couldn’t exactly say that.

“Something like that,” she settled on. “I really want to get home for when Emma is out of work.”

There, that was the truth at least.

Bea nodded with excitement. “That could count.”

“Depending on what you’re doing at home,” Phoebe added with an exaggeratedly lascivious wink.

Regan wished. God, her body throbbed at how much she wished for that to be the case.

Regan had been through dry spells, months without sex. Which was fine; she had a vibrator and all. What wasn’t fine was that she’d never lived with a source of constant temptation, before!

She had to hold in her wistful sigh.

“Ah, I’m going to cut you two off right there. I don’t need any more details,” Sherry pitched in, pushing herself up from the chair she’d been sitting in. “I’ll walk you out.”

Regan rushed forward, shaking her head. “No, seriously, you don’t need to go to any trouble. I know the way… and if I don’t, I’m sure I’ll run into someone, eventually, to help me.”

Sherry cut her a look. “When you’re my age, the heat might very well get to you, too. But I’m perfectly fine.”

Phoebe scoffed. “Preach.”

Regan held up her hands in surrender. “All right. It was really great to hang out with you two again.”

“Come back for another bingo night!” Bea encouraged.

“Or the baking contest, so you can see your cookie recipe wipe the floor with Marcia,” Phoebe gleefully added.

Laughing, Regan reached out to shake her hand. “Deal.”

“Hurry back, Sherry. I’m going to hold you to that offer to teach us Omaha,” Bea called.

“And to bitch about Marcia!”

“I’ll only be a minute,” Sherry agreed, “Get the cards.”

Amused, Regan looked around them to guarantee that they were alone in the hallway they started down as she asked, “What’s up with Marcia Weatherby?”

Sherry pursed her lips. “Oh, she’s always bragging about her grandson, trying to one-up anyone that will listen. She’s always got to be the best at everything. Incredibly obnoxious; we’re all here in the same place.” She shook her head. “I rarely even venture out to join in on group activities, and I’ve witnessed it a number of times.”

“Bitch,” Regan muttered, delighted by the gossip. “This place really is like a dorm!”

Sherry laughed, patting Regan’s arm as they approached the front lobby. “I really appreciate you coming by today. You didn’t have to check on me; I’m really fine. Just overdid it yesterday.”

Regan shrugged as she tugged the strap of her backpack over her shoulder. “I know I didn’t have to. I wanted to.”

Which was the truth. Not only because Emma had clearly been concerned for her gram, but because Regan really liked Sherry.

“Honestly, it was a good time. I don’t really know anyone else who’s available for a hangout in the middle of the day on a Monday, so this was great timing for me. Plus, you said yesterday that you’d always wanted to learn how to bake, so it all worked perfectly.”

Also the truth.

“And you wanting to bake the cookies in the community kitchen instead of in my suite?” Sherry arched a knowing eyebrow at her.

Guilelessly, Regan shrugged. “I like a bigger kitchen to work in.”

“Yes, either that or you have the voice of my Emma in your ear telling you that she’s worried about me making friends here.”

Holding her hands up, Regan confessed, “All right, that thought crossed my mind. But… I’d say it worked out?” She ventured, hopefully.

Phoebe and Bea had come across them two hours ago, just as they’d started unpacking the ingredients Regan had brought along. They’d paused, recognizing her from bingo, and had seamlessly invited themselves to join in.

Sure, Regan had come here for a multitude of reasons, and aiming to get Sherry more comfortable with her peers was a part of her halfcocked plan. But she’d had a genuinely fun afternoon, and had found that she’d been able to distract herself from the Emma, Emma, Emma loop playing in her head. Ironic, since she’d been with Emma’s grandmother.

“It did work out,” Sherry agreed, a small smile curling at the edges of her mouth. “And… I appreciate it. I appreciate you coming all the way up here to bake with me, too. I–” She cleared her throat, her expression growing more serious. “I’ll be honest with you. While Emma worries about me, I also worry about her. Emma is so… closed-off. Perhaps that is pot calling the kettle black, coming from me,” she admitted, ruefully. “I know where she gets it from.”

“I love how focused and hardworking Emma is; I’ve always been so proud of that. After her breakup with Felicity, though, it was almost like having any semblance of a personal life wasn’t something she was willing to do, again. Even though she didn’t want to discuss it with me – and I know, I wasn’t the friendliest to Felicity, so that was my fault – I was concerned.”

Regan was utterly riveted. Because – true to Sherry’s word – Emma so rarely discussed her romantic life, at all. Even though she knew some minimal details about Felicity, she wanted to hear everything. She wanted every crumb of knowledge she could possibly get about Emma, wanted to soak it in.

Sherry breathed out a quiet laugh, waving her hand slightly. “I know she’d hate that we’re having this discussion, too. So, all I’ll say is – I really like you, Regan. I think you’re good for Emma. A little louder, more outspoken. You’ve been supporting her through Kimberly’s reappearance in her life – and she’s been letting you. That says…” Sherry pursed her lips, shaking her head slightly. “That says everything to me. Plus, she never has anything but wonderful things to say about you.”

“Really?” Regan found herself asking, her stomach fluttering with the revelation.

She needed to hang out with Sherry more – first, with how she’d told Regan about Emma’s past crush on her, and now this?!

“She texts me all of the time about the updates about the shows you watch together and what an amazing cook you are, or the things you say that make her laugh. It’s… well, it’s really wonderful to see, that’s all.”

“It’s wonderful to hear.” As if the full-watt smile on Regan’s face didn’t reveal that! Her cheeks hurt from how wide this smile was.

Even if Emma didn’t reciprocate her feelings, Emma liked her as a person. As a human being. Enough that her gram could see it, and, yeah, Regan wanted more. But this? It felt like a pretty big deal to her.

“Anyway, I should get back. Get home safe, and tell Emma I’m absolutely fine,” Sherry stressed.

Regan saluted her. “Done. Go kick ass at cards.”

“Done.”

As Sherry turned to go, Regan felt her phone vibrate in her back pocket. Excitement sparked through her as she realized – Emma was officially out of work! This could very well be her!

Quickly, she walked out of the building and hustled toward the subway, as she looked down at her phone.

Only for the excitement inside of her to completely deflate.

Emma – 5:03PMHey, so I just wanted to let you know that I’m going to grab some dinner with Brynn tonight

Regan halted to a stop, her stomach clenching uncomfortably. Since when did Emma go out for dinner with Brynn?!

Regan – 5:03PMCool cool cool. So… this has nothing to do with me telling you that I have feelings for you, right??

Regan – 5:03PMBecause, if you really think about it, me telling you that I have feelings for you actually doesn’t change the fact that I’ve HAD the feelings for longer than you know

Longer than Regan, herself, even knew!

Regan – 5:04PMI’m just saying that I don’t want to make it weird between us. I told you so that things WOULDN’T get weird, you know?

She watched, more gripped than she was during a reality show finale, as those three little dots appeared.

And then disappeared.

And then appeared again.

Emma – 5:04PMNo. It has nothing to do with yesterday. I’m just having dinner with Brynn

Regan knew she should let it go. Really, she did. Logically, that was what she should do…

Regan – 5:05PMYou have to admit the timing is a little weird. Especially since you and I haven’t really been able to actually talk since I told you how I’d love to be your girlfriend (real). But if you tell me it’s coincidence, then I’ll be forced to believe you

Again, with those little dots appearing and then disappearing, appearing, disappearing, appear–

Emma – 5:06PMYes, I will admit that it’s strange timing. But… like you said, you were only telling me so that things weren’t weird, right? Following your own logic…

Not a single cell in Regan’s body believed her, and she heaved a stressed sigh.

Regan – 5:06PMAll right-i-o. Then, I’ll see you at home (sometime)

Emma – 5:06PMSeems pretty likely since we both live there, and we share such a small bathroom

Okay, so that seemed normal? Maybe a little teasing tone, if Regan was interpreting correctly. Maybe she was reading into things.

When her phone started buzzing in her hand, her heart leapt in her chest, making her feel like she was coming back to life. Maybe it was Emma! Maybe –

“Hey, hi, hello?” She breathed, entirely too excited to sound even remotely normal.

A few seconds of silence beat by before she was greeted with, “Are you on anything this particular evening?”

Recognizing the voice, Regan dropped her head back in disappointment. “Charlotte. Hey.” A moment later, she perked back up when the realization dawned on her. “Charlotte? Hey?”

“Regan,” Charlotte shortly returned, cautiously. “Are you… doing well?”

Frowning, Regan answered, “Um – well. You know, I’ve been better, and been worse. So, I suppose it all evens out.”

And that was true.

She was living with Emma, whom she’d befriended, developed feelings for, kissed, and was now uncertain of their status. She saw Emma in various states of dress and undress. Got to hear her laughter, watch the way she stared down so intently at her laptop when she was working that Regan felt like she could see the way her mind was moving.

Torturous bliss.

“Weirdest thing that’s happened to me all day is that you’re calling.” She had no problem admitting that.

Charlotte scoffed. “How is that so odd? We’ve been communicating regularly for over a month. You text me multiple times a week and I always answer. You’ve even been inside of my home.”

“And I’m sure for you that counts for a deeply personal friendship,” Regan sort-of joked. Not really; she knew enough about Charlotte to know that she wasn’t totally wrong. “But the reality is that I’m the one that’s initiated all of our past communications. So, you have to give this to me – you calling me out of the blue? A little strange.”

“I’m calling to ask if you’d like to have dinner with me tonight. A dinner party I was supposed to go to was unexpectedly canceled, and I have some free time. If you’d rather not, then–”

Even though Regan stood by what she’d said, and she was still confused as hell, she quickly cut Charlotte off before she could rescind the random offer. “No! Dinner sounds great. Where?”

Especially because Regan’s preferred dinner companion was going out to dinner with Brynn.

“I’ll drop you a pin to the restaurant.”

“Be warned – I’m in Astoria, so it’ll probably take me a bit to get there.”

“And I’m in Midtown traffic, so there’s a good chance you’ll arrive before me.”

***

Regan did beat Charlotte to the ritzy Greek place Charlotte had sent her to, but only by a few minutes.

She’d barely gotten settled – still no new texts from Emma. What was that about? – when she spotted Charlotte strutting through to the back of the restaurant to join her at the private table she’d been seated at as soon as she’d dropped Charlotte’s name.

She tilted her head, watching Charlotte glide toward her. It was a very specific walk she had, determined and smooth, all in one.

“Why don’t I feel any attraction to you?” She demanded to know, as soon as Charlotte reached the table.

Charlotte slowly lifted her sunglasses off of her face, staring down at Regan with exasperation. “Please, not this conversation again.”

Regan tapped her palms restlessly against the tabletop. “I just don’t get it! I’m into women – confirmed. In a big way. You’re super-hot. What’s that about?”

Charlotte pursed her lips, gripping the back of her chair as if she wasn’t sure she wanted to sit in it or slide it back into the table and leave. “Attraction is an interesting thing. If we were attracted to every person that was stereotypically super-hot, we’d have a very boring society, wouldn’t we? Besides, it’s not just looks that we’re drawn to.”

Regan knew Charlotte was right, of course.

Maybe that was also what tripped her up about how deeply she was into Emma. Regan had never been that into any man, not even ones she’d been dating. The physical connection had always been there, but she’d never wanted more with them. She’d never wanted to make them laugh or hoped they found her smart and interesting or stayed up late at night wondering if they were thinking about her the way she was thinking about them.

She did that with Emma. A lot. Wondering what she was doing or what was on her mind, right across the hall.

“We’re not going to have a repeat conversation about attraction,” she confirmed, mostly so Charlotte would sit down, already.

When she did, Regan leaned in, intently. “What I do still want to know – now that we’re already here, no take-backs – is why you called me and invited me to dinner.”

Charlotte crossed her arms over her chest and straightened her spine, and – wow, she really could look seriously intimidating! Regan wanted to learn how to mimic that. “We’re here tonight because I have a girlfriend that is very concerned about her best friend. Why isn’t Regan talkative lately? Do you think Regan’s okay? Do you think Regan is upset with me for coming to Rome? Do you think everything really is all right between Regan and Emma?” She parroted words that clearly belonged to Sutton, with no small amount of dissatisfaction at the situation.

Surprised, Regan’s stomach knotted with guilt, and she pressed her hands there, trying to quell it. “Oh, fuck. I was hoping that she was so busy with her internship that she wouldn’t have noticed.”

“You think Sutton wouldn’t notice that something major is going on with you, from even across the ocean?” Charlotte asked, dubiously. “I’m insulted on her behalf.”

Regan’s mouth fell open in shock. “Here you are, shaming me for not treating Sutton with the highest respect. How the turns have tabled.”

Even as she joked, Regan felt awful.

“I haven’t told her about what you’re experiencing, because I don’t feel right outing you even if it’s to your best friend,” Charlotte informed her, imperiously. “But you better believe, Regan Gallagher, that I am not happy. I want this situation resolved as soon as possible. Do you understand?”

Snapping straight to attention, Regan nodded. Even without Charlotte’s intimidation, she was more than suitably chastised. “I’ll talk to Sutton as soon as possible, I promise. You can take that to the bank.”

In fact…

Regan – 6:11PMMy beautiful English Rose living in a Roman summer! I’m so proud of you, and I want you to know that even though I’ve been a little off lately, it has nothing to do with you. I have a ton to tell you, but don’t stress – everything really is completely fine with me. Just been reallllll busy

Emotionally, she was the busiest she’d ever been in her life!

Given the time difference, she didn’t expect Sutton to answer right away. Yet –

Sutton, the One and Only – 6:11PMSomething tells me that this has to do with my chat earlier with Charlotte. Either way, I’m happy and relieved to hear it. I love you and can’t wait for the updates

Regan – 6:12PMI love you, too!!! Now, get some beauty rest!

She waggled her phone at Charlotte, who’d been watching her every move. “Already working on it.”

Charlotte nodded with obvious approval. “Good.”

Their waiter approached with perfect timing. And, after Regan ordered, she stared across the table at Charlotte. Even though she hadn’t planned to have this opportunity, it couldn’t hurt to have her lesbian guide here, right?

“I love this place–” Charlotte started to say, as their waiter left.

Unfortunately for her, Regan had been counting down the seconds until she could unleash her words. “Yeah, we totally have to get back to how you discovered this place, later. But right now, I need to know – what would you do if you kissed a woman, and she reciprocated… but then ended the kiss, and said it couldn’t ever happen again? Also, let’s say you told this woman that you were super attracted to her and that you think about that attraction all of the time, but said it was only platonic? And then, imagine some time passed, and you realized that wasn’t strictly true. So, imagine that you took back that declaration of platonic feelings and let her know that you have a raging crush on her, so that everything could be above board. How would you proceed?”

Propping her elbow on the table, then her chin in her elbow, Regan stared across at Charlotte expectantly. God, it felt good to actually say this to someone!

“Hypothetically,” she tacked on.

For several long moments, Charlotte only stared back. Not uttering a single word. Just… staring, her tawny eyes wide.

Finally, she blinked and asked, “Is that all?” Before she took a healthy sip of her wine.

Tapping on her chin with her index finger, Regan slowly shook her head. “Uhhh, no. What if the woman then didn’t talk to you for twenty-four hours after that? But, you aren’t sure if it’s because she really was busy at her little sister’s birthday party – not the best place for a feelings confession, but it was what I had at the time? – and is genuinely going out to dinner with her coworker for the first time ever… or if it’s because she really is avoiding you, because you finally made things weird?”

Charlotte choked on the wine, quickly putting her napkin over her mouth as she coughed and stared over the napkin with watering eyes.

“It’s Emma?” She finally managed to say, once her choking subsided. “The woman you’ve been talking to me about all summer is Emma?”

Regan reeled back, her heart starting to hammer in her chest in panic. “What?! I didn’t say her name!”

“You said her little sister’s birthday party, and you posted on your social media yesterday about the cake you made for Emma’s sister,” Charlotte pointed out, incredulously.

“Well, I didn’t think you had enough time or care to be creeping on my socials!” Regan shot back, as her cheeks burned.

God damn it! She’d been so good! So careful!

Charlotte closed her eyes, steeping her fingers to her forehead to take a moment to gather herself. “The woman that you realized you were attracted to – the woman you have apparently kissed and confessed having feelings for – is Emma? Your roommate? Sutton’s friend? Emma Bordeaux, that Emma?”

“She’s my friend, too,” Regan defended, weakly. “Now.”

Wait – she didn’t have to defend herself!

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” she quickly added, bolstering herself up. “It’s not wrong to like Emma, that way.”

“It’s… not,” Charlotte cautiously agreed, still looking at Regan as if she’d been dropped into an alternate dimension. “I just didn’t anticipate this.”

“Me, neither! We’re in the same boat, there!”

“Well, you’ve had time to process this, and I have not.”

Fair. But, also, “You barely even know Emma!”

“I know enough. I know she and Sutton are close. I know… wait. Is that why you don’t want Sutton to know?” Charlotte pieced together, a dawning gleam in her eyes. “Because as far as I knew, Emma wasn’t queer. Which means, as far as Sutton knows…”

Oh, damn. Regan dropped her whole head into her hands, so, so disappointed with herself. “Yes,” she whispered, dismally. “That’s why I couldn’t talk to Sutton, and that’s why I haven’t been as chatty with her, lately. Because I know that when I talk to Sutton, I’m going to want to tell her all about the way I feel for Emma and how I love the way she smells and the way her lips felt and the night we cuddled and I can’t, because Emma is so freaking private, that she hasn’t come out to Sutton yet!”

Again, though, it felt so insanely great to be able to say it all aloud! Even if she shouldn’t be.

“The tangled webs we weave,” Charlotte muttered, toying with the bottom of her wine glass with her fingertips, obviously deep in thought.

“I know,” she commiserated. “I’ve really tried to respect Emma in this, and I totally just blew it. I know you don’t want to keep secrets from Sutton, but…”

Regan never tried to complicate things, but complications always seemed to find her.

Minutely shaking her head, Charlotte heaved a long sigh. “No. But, as someone who lived with my sexuality under wraps, I promise that I won’t take it upon myself to discuss Emma’s sexuality, even with Sutton.” She drew in a deep breath, her considering and critical gaze dragging up and down Regan’s face. “To your credit, I never expected that you would have been able to keep such a big secret like this from Sutton in order to preserve Emma’s privacy.”

“I should be offended.” Regan attempted to glare, but it fell apart in seconds. “But I’m surprised even by myself.”

“I think it speaks volumes about how highly you truly regard Emma,” Charlotte surmised, sounding utterly fascinated.

Ridiculously, Regan felt her cheeks heat. “I mean… yeah. I guess that’s true.”

Even though she’d never thought about it like that, Charlotte wasn’t wrong.

“Anyway, enough about that.” She waved her hand, as if waving the conversation away. “What I need to know is – what do I do, now?”

“You’re well aware that I am truly not an expert on relationships,” Charlotte pointed out. “Much as it pains me to admit my own gaps in knowledge.”

“Eh, you have your moments.” After all, it had been Charlotte’s idea to sweep Sutton off of her feet at Oliver’s wedding. “But, yes, I know. Honestly, you’re the best person to talk to right now, because I don’t need relationship advice. I need advice on what to do moving forward. Single, and unexpectedly sapphic.”

“And… you’re positive that Emma doesn’t have any feelings for you, as well?” Charlotte asked.

Regan’s heart skipped at the very thought. Slowly, though, she shook her head, as the reality quickly dampened that hypothetical excitement. “She doesn’t. Shouldn’t come as a surprise.”

She really, really had been trying not to dwell on that. Because if Regan let herself dive too far into the fact that the only person she’d ever felt so much for didn’t feel the same way in return… well, it didn’t feel good, that was for sure.

In fact, it made her stomach cramp, and the backs of her throat feel a little tight.

Instead, she’d been really, really trying to focus on the future, and the actual possibilities it could hold for her.

Charlotte scoffed. “Your entire experience this summer comes as quite the surprise. Emma seems to have let you in to a degree to which she hasn’t even let Sutton in, after years of friendship. You’ve kissed. You’ve met all of her family – you quite literally made her sister a birthday cake. Something has shifted enough that you’ve apparently cuddled through the night – don’t think I missed that – and you felt comfortable enough to confess your feelings to her. I think it’s a fair question to ask if she reciprocates these feelings.”

When Regan heard it stated back to her like that, it made her want to reconsider her own certainty. To look over all of their interactions with a fine-toothed comb.

Quickly, though, she dismissed those thoughts.

The faster she could figure out how to move on from this, how to make it so that her body didn’t tingle every time she and Emma touched, how to get to a place where she wasn’t giddy at the prospect of spending time with Emma, the faster life could feel normal, again. The faster she could feel comfortable in her own home, again. The faster she and Emma could dive into building an actually platonic relationship.

Also, the faster Regan could not get her heart crushed by continuously having to remind herself that Emma didn’t feel this way about her.

“No, she doesn’t. We’re just… friends.” Regan nodded in finality with the word. “We’re friends, and I’m happy with that.”

And she was!

“I just need to figure out the best way to view Emma as only a friend, so that we can all just – move on. So, what would you do?” She asked again, trying to push away Emma from her thoughts and focus on Charlotte and only Charlotte.

Charlotte continued to stare at her, lightly drumming her fingertips on the table. Finally, she answered, “Prior to Sutton, as I know you know, I’d never dealt with having feelings for someone. When I was stressed – or, I imagine, if I’d been in your shoes and wanted to further explore my sexuality – I’d try to find someone on a dating app to have a bit of… exploratory fun with.”

Leaning back, Regan took in those words with shock. A sapphic dating app honestly hadn’t even occurred to her.

“If I were you, I’d likely create a profile on SapphicSpark. But, that’s just me.”

Could that even work? Was trying to explore this with a different woman the possible answer?

Like, maybe Regan had never experienced an emotional attraction to a man, but… but maybe if there was another woman out there that caught her eye – maybe she could start there?

Cautiously, she eyed Charlotte. “Maybe you are a good guide…”

Chapter Twenty

“No, no.” Brynn waved away Emma when she attempted to put her credit card down to pay for their dinner bill. “This is on me.”

Narrowing her eyes, Emma didn’t give in so easily. “Come on. We can at least split it.”

Brynn slid her card into the holder and closed the book on it with a snap. “Nope. I got it. Because my number got called today, Emma, and I am passing on some of my good fortune.”

At that, Emma acquiesced. “The entertainment department isn’t going to know what hit it.”

A triumphant grin played on Brynn’s mouth. “Thank you very much. I’ll miss you, though, and your very serious attitude, and the way you pretend not to text your roommate throughout the day.”

Emma’s stomach clenched, and she quickly reached for her martini glass. As it was, there was only a sip left, but it was worth it to throw back and not think about Regan. “Well, you still have a few weeks left with me.”

“Then you’ll have to be in charge of showing Allegra’s new assistant around,” Brynn continued, blessedly not mentioning her roommate again. “But if they get too annoying, you can always come and visit me in entertainment. Only a couple floors away.”

“You’re too kind,” Emma dryly replied, shaking her head.

Brynn had gotten the good news from Allegra at the end of the workday. Because she was going to be utilizing Emma during the final round of Alton Fellowship interviews for the next couple of weeks, Brynn’s promotion wouldn’t officially happen until the end of August, but it was in motion.

It was a double-edged sword, watching Brynn level up and get moved to a different department, with far more writing in her future. Emma was happy for her, really. Plus, it was living, breathing proof that if Emma put in her time and performed to her best ability, it would pay off. Eventually. But damn if it didn’t make Emma burn inside for that eventually to become a reality.

“Thanks, by the way,” Brynn commented, taking Emma out of her thoughts. “For coming to celebrate with me after work.”

Emma stared across the small table at her, her eyebrows knitting in confusion. “You literally got promoted today.” Rolling her lips, she debated whether or not she should say her next thought, but – what the hell. “And I really do consider you somewhat of a friend.”

Brynn stared back at her, an absurd laugh bubbling up. “Really? Somewhat of a friend?”

Embarrassed, Emma shrugged. “Well, a work friend. Look, I don’t make friends super easily. So, somewhat of a friend in such a short time, coming from me, is actually an accomplishment.”

Damningly, she could see Regan so clearly in her mind’s eye. See Regan losing her shit and absolutely cackling at Emma, even as she was positive Regan would also be, well, proud of Emma.

Even more damningly, that felt good.

Sobering, Brynn nodded. “Yeah, that doesn’t shock me. I mean, I invited you out to come grab drinks or dinner after work, like, three times in May after you started, and you never said yes. Hence, my surprise and appreciation that you joined me tonight, regardless of the promotion.”

Tapping her fingers lightly against her thighs, Emma thought over Brynn’s words. “I guess it’s also been brought to my attention this summer that I don’t always give people a chance. And... I don’t necessarily like that.”

The revelation was occurring to her as she was speaking it aloud, surprising her along with Brynn.

But it was true.

Emma didn’t know at what point she’d decided to close herself off from most new people and experiences, approaching everything and everyone with critical caution; it wasn’t even something she’d done consciously.

If the last couple of months had proven anything to her, though, it was that she really could be surprised by people, if she was willing to give just a little bit. Kimberly, who’d taken to texting Emma in very reasonable doses, to the point that she didn’t even feel stressed by seeing her mom’s name appear on her phone.

But… mostly Regan.

I like you, in the real girlfriend kind of way, Regan’s confession from yesterday played in her mind. Just like it had in bits and pieces all day long.

Squeezing her eyes closed, Emma effectively stopped her mind from summoning any of Regan’s other notable lines. Nope, no, she wasn’t going to do it. She wasn’t going to let herself hear it again, to let those words tie her up in giddily-stressed conflicted knots.

This wasn’t about Regan’s attraction to her or Regan’s – Regan’s feelings for her; what she was saying to Brynn was simply about Regan, herself.

It was about the fact that Emma had done her best to write Regan off as a person, when in reality, Regan had turned out to be someone Emma deeply enjoyed spending time with. It was about the fact that Emma had relied for far too long on a default setting to find Regan frustrating, rather than allow herself to see any of the good parts in her.

It was about the fact that Regan had so much… depth. So much going on inside of her very active mind, that she felt so deeply, that she observed everything around her, and Emma would have never been able to experience any of it, if she’d stayed so insistent on closing her out.

Dear god, Emma needed to stop letting Regan derail her thoughts.

She refocused on Brynn, who was studying her with an arched eyebrow. “Huh. And this newfound sense of growth wouldn’t have anything to do with the roommate-not-girlfriend situation, right?”

Emma felt her cheeks flame, and instinctively, she wanted to shut down in self-defense. But, she took a deep breath and pushed through it. “I don’t really think that’s relevant to what I’m saying. Which is, really, just me reiterating to you that I’d like us to be… friends.”

Brynn signed the receipt their waiter had just dropped off with a flourish. “I, too, would like that.” She slipped her credit card back into her purse. “I also wouldn’t mind getting more updates about the Regan situation, but I can wait until we’re more than somewhat friends for that.”

The craziest thing, really, was that Emma wanted to confess it all to Brynn, as they gathered their items and stood.

Mostly because… well, Emma felt like she was going crazy with this new development in her life, and she couldn’t talk to anyone about it. Sutton felt off-limits for obvious reasons –

– like, Regan hadn’t even talked to Sutton about all of this?! Regan Gallagher, the woman that told her best friend everything, the woman that loved to gossip, the woman that simply loved to share, hadn’t talked to Sutton about the very major life experiences she was having? Out of respect for Emma?

It was craziness. It was unexpected. It was… it was so, so, achingly thoughtful and sweet and it made Emma’s heart flutter every damn time she thought about it.

Her gram was off-limits, because obviously, she was under the impression that Emma and Regan were already together.

Regan – because somehow, someway, Regan had become a top contender on Emma’s list of people to confide in about her life?! – was clearly, unquestionably not the person to try to sort out her thoughts with.

So, even though she very much hadn’t intended on to, she found herself asking, “Have you ever been just so – bowled over by someone that you don’t even know what to do with them? What to think about them, how to act with them?”

Brynn stumbled to a stop, snapping her head around to stare at Emma with wide eyes. “I didn’t think you were actually going to tell me?”

Embarrassed – this was why she didn’t like to discuss anything personal. Because people’s reactions got… weird, and, in turn, made Emma feel so freaking self-conscious – she gritted her teeth and nudged Brynn forward to keep walking rather than draw attention where they still stood in the middle of the restaurant.

“I didn’t know I was going go,” she muttered, making sure to keep her voice low so that none of the people at nearby tables who were now watching them with interest could hear anything.

Emma didn’t feel like she knew anything, anymore. She’d barely found her center after that kiss last week, and now, following yesterday’s confession, she had no idea where center even was, anymore.

As soon as they exited the restaurant and were out in the open evening air, Brynn turned around to face Emma, clearly brimming with anticipation. “All right – hit me. I’ve been dying for you to actually delve into something personal since we started working together.”

Again, that reason alone made Emma want to not, like a turtle sliding back into its shell.

But… no. She needed this. She needed to voice it aloud, to another human being. Or she might very well explode.

“To set the record straight for you – Regan and I really are just roommates,” she stressed, to make that point very clear. “There hasn’t been… romantic drama or whatever you think has been going on all summer.”

Brynn scoffed, crossing her arms. “So, what you’re all wrapped up in knots over right now is…?”

Reluctantly, Emma admitted, “Slightly romantic drama. We’ve… there’s been…” God, she regretted this already, and she reached up to rub intently at her temple. “A single kiss. And a single night of cuddling. And a – a confession of feelings. Hers,” she quickly clarified, and her stomach twisted and turned at the memory yet again.

Brynn’s eagerness was written all over her face. “Please, I am begging you to continue.”

But this was where Emma got tripped up. This was where the external facts stopped coming into play, and where Emma’s internal feelings came into play. Where all of her conflict was. Where she found herself so… tongue-tied.

She’d never been so relieved about her phone starting to ring in her life as she was in this moment.

Regan? She wondered, and then immediately wondered how she’d feel about that.

To her disappointed relief, though, it was Gram’s name on the screen.

“Actually, I need to answer this,” she held her phone up as evidence to get her out of this conundrum.

Brynn tossed her arms in the air. “You’re really going to leave me on this cliffhanger?”

Hesitating before she answered the call, she shook her head and forced logic to return. “It’s not a cliffhanger; it’s just… normal life that got a little complicated. Slightly longer story made short – we’re still just roommates.”

As her phone continued to ring, she thought of how poorly her gram had felt yesterday, and she flashed another look toward Brynn. “I’m sorry for cutting this long goodbye a little short, but I do need to answer this call. Thank you, again, for dinner, and congrats, again, on the promotion.”

Brynn stared widely at her, before chuckling disbelievingly. “You owe me a real resolution to this tale. But, thanks and you’re welcome, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Emma waved, solidifying the farewell, as soon as she answered the call, “Hey, Gram. How are you feeling?”

“I’m perfectly fine. Really, Em, I spent a little too much time in the heat – that was all. I’m back to normal today,” Gram assured her.

Emma started walking in the direction of her apartment. The restaurant Brynn had wanted to try was, luckily, far closer to Emma’s home than it was to work. Only a few blocks away, actually.

She frowned in consideration, before she hesitantly determined that her Gram’s tone sounded genuine. “Okay, good. I still think you should tell Doctor Visentine at your appointment next week, though.”

Gram loftily sighed. “Yes, I will.”

In the brief lull of conversation, Emma heard sound in the background. Eyebrows furrowed in confusion, she tried to focus… but it didn’t sound like the television. “Are you having a party over there or something?” She asked, jokingly.

Only, her gram’s voice wasn’t joking when she answered, “No, it’s not a party. Just Phoebe and Bea, the women we played bingo with.”

Emma nearly tripped over her feet in utter shock. “What?”

“When we played bingo a few weeks ago–” Gram started.

“No, I remember them,” Emma interjected. “I just don’t understand what’s going on right now. Is it… bingo night again?” She tried to guess.

“Ah, no. We’re all in my suite; I really tried to teach them how to play some games out in the common area, but… the card table makes all the difference,” Gram informed Emma, as if Emma didn’t know how seriously her gram took cards, and the significance of the table.

That wasn’t what surprised her, though.

“I – that’s really great, Gram.” Emma tried to contain her excitement at the prospect of her grandmother making friends, because she knew Gram would fucking hate to feel infantilized.

“Yeah,” her gram’s terse agreement confirmed that sentiment. She cleared her throat. “We’re about to start a game of bridge, but I just needed for you to ask Regan if it was all right if I give her information out to someone here? Her cookies have been an absolute hit, and one of the women that works the front desk wanted to know if she’d be interested in baking something for her husband’s retirement party next month. I tried to get a hold of her, first, but she wasn’t answering. And you know how I don’t trust texting important information.”

Narrowing her eyes, Emma tried to think over the details of bringing her gram back to Primrose Grove yesterday. “Sure, I can pass the question on.” Unable to help herself, Emma pressed, “I just – I don’t remember packing any of Regan’s desserts with us to take home yesterday?”

In Emma’s memory, Regan’s desserts had been completely decimated by the end of the party.

“Oh, not those cookies,” Gram dismissed. “The ones we baked today, here. With Phoebe and Bea.”

“We’re the ones that told Sherry here to give one to Cindy at the check-in desk!” Emma heard another voice shout in the background. “I know that woman has a giant sweet tooth, and she doesn’t shut up about her husband’s impending retirement!”

“The cookies… that you baked today,” Emma stressed, as her mind tried desperately to process this information. “With Phoebe and Bea. And Regan.”

“Yes, Emma,” Gram confirmed, as if Emma was being obtuse. “And you can let Regan know that she doesn’t need to do any of your bidding or running interference again. Not that I don’t appreciate it,” she added, warmth entering her tone. “But it worked. So, you can officially stop worrying about my being lonely.”

“I can officially stop worrying,” Emma dimly echoed, but she wasn’t sure her brain and her mouth were connected, right now.

Because… what in the world was going on?

“I have to go, but please pass the question on. I wouldn’t make it such a big deal, but apparently Cindy would like to talk to Regan as early as tomorrow, if possible.”

“Right, sure. Love you.”

“Love you, too,” Gram returned, before hanging up the phone. So that she could return to her evening of being social.

Regan had gone to visit her gram today, apparently. She’d taken the time and effort to go to Astoria to bake cookies with Emma’s grandmother, while – apparently – being the conduit for Gram to make friends with other residents.

Gram assumed this was Regan doing Emma’s bidding, but Emma knew better. She knew very well that she hadn’t asked Regan to do any such thing; Regan had already gone above and beyond doing so much for Emma regarding her family, already.

So above and beyond, in fact, Regan now had feelings for Emma. How was that for taking her job seriously?

Emma’s mind was spinning, and her emotions felt so all over the place right now, that all she could do as she unlocked the door to the apartment was desperately hope Regan either wasn’t home or was already in her own bedroom for the night.

Because she couldn’t handle seeing and talking to Regan, right now. She couldn’t handle it, because Emma couldn’t handle her own feelings. She didn’t even know what these feelings were.

Or… more aptly, they terrified her.

She cautiously walked into their apartment, shutting and locking the door behind her.

Slowly, she walked into the living room and didn’t even realize she was holding her breath… until she walked in to see that Regan wasn’t sitting there, waiting for her. That Regan wasn’t in the living room or the kitchen. She wasn’t waiting for Emma to come home, pouncing on her –

Emma shook her head sharply at the imagery that word invoked.

Emma had expected that Regan would be waiting on tenterhooks for Emma to return home. Wanting to talk about Regan’s confession yesterday, maybe. Or maybe wanting to move past it, and excitedly telling Emma to get ready to dive into a new season of The One. Or wanting to tell Emma all about her day – about how she’d apparently spent part of that day with her gram.

Yet… nothing.

Regan wasn’t waiting for her, with that boundless energy and addictive smile.

Which was the best-case scenario, Emma forcefully reminded herself. This was precisely what she’d hoped for – some space from Regan so she could figure out how to deal with everything. How to deal with this major change in her reality.

Unfortunately, that reminder didn’t do anything to combat the disappointment she felt.

She had been stressing all day about how she would come home to Regan this evening and have no idea how to handle it. No idea how to handle Regan wearing her tiny little shorts and have her dark hair all tousled and tossed in a ponytail to get it out of her way while she cooked. No idea how to handle the excitement that Regan never tried to disguise as soon as Emma entered the room.

And now that she didn’t have those things, she was upset about it.

“Jesus christ,” Emma swore at herself, because she was so utterly fucked. Her carefully ordered life was starting to crumble around her, and she had no idea how to pause it.

With a deep breath, she walked down the hall toward her room. A night without Regan being home was great, she tried to convince herself. She could take a long, relaxing bath. She could finish reading the book she’d started on Friday… when she’d been waiting for Regan to come home…

But, where was Regan? It wasn’t like she’d texted Emma to let her know she was going to be out late, so –

“Oh my god.”

Emma froze with her hand on the doorknob to her bedroom, as she heard those muffled words come from Regan’s room.

Swiftly, she turned around to face Regan’s closed door. Regan was home, then. And was… in her room? This early? It wasn’t even eight o’clock. What –

A long, throaty moan reached Emma’s ears, followed by the very distinct sound of panting breaths.

“Yes, fuck,” she heard next, and that was most definitely Regan’s voice.

The realization of what was happening in Regan’s room had Emma’s heart start to race, her blood rushing in her ears, and she quickly turned to go into her room, only to bang her head right into the door, as she’d forgotten that she hadn’t already opened it.

Emma couldn’t even feel the dull ache on her forehead, as she stood, numb, in the middle of her bedroom.

There was no denying the fact that Regan was in her room right across the hall, having sex right now. The moans were undeniable, the vocalizations growing louder and more frequent by the fucking second, and Emma could hear every single moment, even with her door closed!

As quickly as she’d entered, Emma turned and literally ran back down the hallway and into the kitchen, where she hadn’t been able to hear anything.

She braced her hands on the sink, trying to take deep breaths, and sort through the barrage of feelings swamping her.

The voice – that had definitely been Regan. It had been distinctly her voice, even if Emma had never heard her sound like that, before. So… wanton and raspy and needy and –

She swallowed hard, shaking her head and trying to stop the arousal that shot through her. Regan had sounded fucking hot, though, and there was no denying that, and Emma kept hearing it.

Yes, fuck. Yes, fuck. Yes, fuck.

The only thing that worked to stop this feeling from taking over was the fact that Regan was in there, having sex with someone else. Maybe a woman? If Emma had to judge based on those moans that she’d kept hearing in her room.

What the hell was that about?

Just yesterday, Regan was holding Emma’s hand, professing to have such serious feelings for her, telling Emma that she was the only person that had ever made her feel this way, and today she was – she was in their apartment, having sex with someone?!

Emma needed to get out of here.

Yes, that was the only thing that made sense.

Her wallet and phone were… somewhere. In her room, maybe? Emma didn’t remember dropping them on her dresser in their usual spot, but she didn’t have them in her pockets, so she must have done so.

No way in hell was she going back down that hall, though, so –

She turned, ready to flee the apartment with only her keys…

Only to come face-to-face with Regan.

Who seemed to notice her at the same time, coming to an abrupt halt as she walked into the kitchen. “Emma!”

Her voice was high and still slightly out of breath, and everything inside of Emma was at war deciding if she was more turned on by that fact or upset by it.

Regan’s cheeks were flushed – glowing, even, and Emma’s stomach turned – and her hair was messy with obvious bedhead. She stood in front of Emma in only a black sports bra and a tiny pair of cotton shorts, something she’d very obviously just thrown on.

“Hmm,” was all she could manage in return, with her heart in her throat.

God, what was wrong with her?

Regan could do whatever she wanted; she could have sex with anyone she wanted, especially in her own home, in her own room. It was none of Emma’s business.

And still, it didn’t stop her from feeling like it was, and Emma hated this. She hated it, desperately.

“I… ha,” Regan chuckled, and it was the most uncomfortable Emma had ever seen her. “I, uh, didn’t realize you were home, yet.”

“Just got here,” she replied, shortly. She felt breathless, herself.

“Great!” Regan nodded with the word, eyes brightening. “Good. Great. That’s good. I was just coming to get a glass of water.”

“I bet,” Emma murmured, because after those throaty moans, she could only imagine that Regan was parched.

She very deliberately side-stepped away from the sink as Regan approached. She could not – could. Not. – touch Regan right now. Couldn’t handle Regan sidling up to her all casual and brushing her bare, warm – probably still slightly sweaty – skin against any part of Emma’s body.

Regan seemed to feel the same way, which rang another alarm bell in Emma’s mind. She walked with hesitation over to the cabinet with the glasses, pushing up on her tiptoes, and Emma stared at Regan’s bare back, and she – she wanted.

She knew how soft Regan’s skin was, now. She’d felt it, right under her hands, when they’d woken up together only two and a half days ago. She’d always found Regan ridiculously, irritatingly attractive, and now it was so much more.

The sheerly physical aspect was more intense, now, because she lived with her. Because she saw Regan every day, touched her every day, was touched by her. They’d kissed and snuggled, and she smelled Regan’s shampoo in the shower, permeating through her entire fucking being. There was no escape!

Even beyond that, though, this was so much more than the physical, now. Emma could contain a physical reaction; she could manage that. But Regan was… she was smart and funny and chaotic and she tried so hard and Emma liked it. She liked her, so fucking much.

“I’m just, you know, going to go back to my room. Long day,” Regan murmured softly, her cheeks pink as she glanced at Emma, before glancing away as she started to close the cabinet.

“Right,” she replied, annoyed at herself by how short she sounded. Yet, she couldn’t help it.

And Regan was blushing? Going back to her room, seemingly for the night, so early? Was she embarrassed about having someone in her room? Did it make her feel as weird as Emma felt right now?

When Regan turned toward the sink holding only one glass, Emma couldn’t help but ask, “You don’t need another one?”

Ugh, she squeezed her eyes closed, irritation flashing through her. At both herself, and Regan, and she felt crazy!

Regan paused, slowly turning back to face Emma. “What are you talking about? And why are you being like this?”

“Why are you being like this?” She countered, feeling childish and petty, but the words were out before she could stop them.

Regan stared at her, incredulously. “Huh?”

Emma gestured at Regan, feeling the words bubble up in her throat. “You’re blushing and avoiding looking at me, and I heard you when I came home. Obviously, you have someone in your room, and you feel… embarrassed, or whatever. And – that’s fine. Because you thought I wasn’t going to be home tonight. But… but…”

But what? Emma couldn’t think rationally right now, for the first time in her entire adult life.

All she could think about were the sounds Regan had made, and how aroused Emma had been by it, and the fact that it ate her up inside, knowing that they’d been made for someone else.

Regan’s mouth fell open in obvious surprise. “You think that I was having sex, just now? With someone else? That’s why you’re being all grumbly with me right now?”

Emma crossed her arms, as if the action could help contain all of these messy feelings inside of her. “Well – fine. Yeah. So what? Just yesterday, you told me you have serious feelings for me.”

“And you didn’t say it back!” Regan shot back, gesturing widely at Emma with palpable desperation. “You’re the one that said we can’t kiss again, that this – you and me – isn’t happening.”

Emma felt the truth of that burn through her, heating her face in an embarrassed blush.

“You can’t hold it against me if I date or sleep with other people, after you turned me down, Emma,” Regan sharply informed her, and there was a hoarseness in her tone. Something hurt that Emma could hear, and with it, Emma deflated, feeling the prickling feeling of causing Regan any pain digging right into her. “I might be able to keep going on as normal as possible with you, but I do have feelings, and I’m trying to process through them the same as you are.”

Still embarrassed and still not knowing what to fucking do with herself, Emma dropped her head into both of her hands. “I know. I know, Regan, and I’m sorry.”

She was; truly, deeply sorry. Sorry about everything; she didn’t even know, anymore.

“If you care that I’m having sex with someone else, all you have to do is tell me. If I shouldn’t be on dating apps anymore, then all you have to do is say it.” Regan’s tone was searching, pulling at something inside of Emma. Threatening to make her unravel.

Emma shook her head, though, forcing herself to lift her face up and actually look at Regan. “I don’t have the right to say that, I just–”

She hadn’t realized Regan had walked closer to her. Hadn’t realized that Regan was only inches away, still only wearing the bare minimum stiches of clothing required to not be completely naked, while her body was still flushed and, dear god, Emma’s hands shook with want.

“I’m telling you that you have the right to say it,” Regan’s voice dipped so low, it skittered down Emma’s spine and landed squarely between her legs. Reminding her that the wetness she’d felt from hearing Regan hadn’t gone away. “If you tell me that you have feelings for me, too, then you have the right.”

Emma’s lips trembled open, and she couldn’t find any words that she was able to say aloud. Not while her heart was beating so hard in her chest and this heat wound through her, so demanding.

While everything inside of her screamed to tell Regan that yes, she had feelings for her – intense, strong feelings – but it was so complicated, and –

“God damn it, Emma, I’m going to break my word to you, and I’m sorry, but I just can’t…” Regan murmured, her dark eyes – so intense – flicking from Emma’s mouth to her eyes, then back again.

And Emma’s mind went blissfully blank as Regan surged onto her tiptoes and wrapped her arm around Emma’s neck to tug her down. She didn’t have to tug hard, though, because Emma was so willing.

Regan’s body surged against hers, and Emma couldn’t fight against it, anymore. She wrapped her arms around Regan’s waist, her hands tingling at the contact with Regan’s smooth, bare skin, groaning low into her mouth as she returned the kiss, matching Regan’s intensity.

Somewhere, dimly in the back of her mind, she was well aware that there was no going back from this.

And, as Regan’s tongue flicked over her bottom lip, she couldn’t bring herself to care at all.

Chapter Twenty-One

This was so much better than their first kiss.

Regan hadn’t thought anything would have been able to top that one, but this one did. By leaps and bounds.

For so many reasons.

Because they were standing, and their entire bodies were pressed against each other. Regan strained up, aching to be as close as possible. They were as close as possible, and it didn’t feel like enough. She felt the buttons on Emma’s shirt – the blouse she’d worn to work – press into her stomach so closely, she knew they would leave an imprint, and it still wasn’t enough.

She slid her tongue along Emma’s, every nerve ending in her body feeling like it was fucking singing. Because she could taste Emma, really taste her this time. She could feel the way Emma’s tongue toyed with her own, and god, Emma was a good fucking kisser.

She hadn’t really been able to definitively know that, from their first kiss. It had been so short, so simple. But she knew, now.

And it only served to raise the already scorching levels of heat surging through Regan’s body.

She carded the fingers of her free hand through Emma’s hair, reveling in how soft it was. How it was long enough to grab such a good fistful of – which she did – and Emma groaned sharply into her mouth.

Emma’s fingers scratched down Regan’s back, and her entire body shuddered at the sensation. She moaned with it, rolling her hips intently against Emma’s.

It didn’t matter that she’d just had an orgasm, apparently. No, if anything, Regan just felt primed and ready for more.

She wanted to climb Emma Bordeaux like a fucking tree.

As that thought hit her, she lifted her other hand to wrap around Emma’s back –

Only to realize far too late that she’d still been holding the glass she’d taken out to have some water. The glass that now, due to Regan’s eagerness, slipped from her fingers and fell to the hardwood of the kitchen floor behind Emma.

The shattering sound broke them apart.

Regan tugged her head back, panting for breath as she stared, wide-eyed, up at Emma. “I’m sorry,” she apologized immediately, concern cutting through the needy, aching want inside of her.

She fell from her tiptoes back to stand on her heels, body still pressed entirely against Emma’s. “Don’t step backward. Just – you stay right there, and I’ll clean it up. And then we can get right back to this.”

Finally, Emma seemed to come back to reality. Regan could see it happening, see the dawning of what they’d just done as it hit Emma.

Who shook her head as she closed her eyes and flexed her fingers against Regan’s bare hips.

She shivered at the touch, a sigh escaping her.

At the sound, Emma dropped her hands away. “No, you’re the one not wearing anything, including shoes.”

Emma leaned back enough to rake her eyes down Regan’s body as if confirming for herself that was the truth.

Shivering again, Regan felt her nipples harden at the look, and her breathing felt labored all over again, and she loved it. She wanted Emma to look at her like that. With obvious desire in those electric blue eyes.

Again, Emma clamped her eyes closed. As if shutting Regan out – literally – was the only way to not get distracted by her, and that was a thrilling realization.

“Yeah. So. You should just go back to your–” Emma gasped once more, eyes flying open as she took a step back from Regan. The shoes she was still wearing crunched over the glass. “Your room, where you were just having sex. Fuck, I can’t believe I just kissed you after you were… with someone else.”

Her hand flew up to her mouth, covering up her kiss-swollen lips. Much to Regan’s disappointment.

Feeling the same bafflement from the beginning of this interaction all over again, Regan tossed her hands in the air. “Why are you so freaking certain that I was having sex with another person?”

“Because I heard it!” Emma hissed back, her cheeks flushing.

“No, you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did.”

“You heard me,” Regan shot back, unsure if she should be amused or incredulous or mortified, or a combination of all three.

At once, all of Emma’s movements stilled, as she stared wide-eyed at Regan. Slowly, she shook her head. “No. I heard… more than you.”

Fine, in this moment, amusement won out, and Regan breathed an exasperated laugh, repeating, “Why are you so sure?”

“Because! I heard you, and I have no doubt about that.” Emma’s cheeks turned a dark pink as she spoke. “But there were more, um, moans.”

Regan could only stare, that amusement giving away – a bit – into embarrassment. “That was me.”

Emma blinked at her, expression morphing from indignant to mystified. “All of it?”

“Well, I was having sex with myself, so… yeah. All of it,” she confirmed, and – wow, yeah. She didn’t know how to feel, right now.

Still exhilarated from their kiss and still turned on, because – apparently – the leg-shaking orgasm she’d gotten from her vibrator wasn’t anything when compared to kissing Emma like that. But she’d never felt so… sheepish, before, about her sex life.

She’d never been scrutinized so closely, as she was now, as Emma’s stare seemed to look right through her.

“That was all you,” Emma rasped, sounding breathless.

Wordlessly, Regan nodded. Even if she was embarrassed, it was too late to do anything about it. “I didn’t think you were going to be home,” she defended, before she remembered, “Also, I don’t need to defend myself; I can masturbate in my own room!”

“I know that,” Emma shot back, still sounding like she’d run a marathon. “But I’ve never heard you, before! What, have you not masturbated all summer?”

“I have a very healthy sex life with myself, thank you very much,” Regan smartly confirmed, entirely unashamed about that fact. “At least three or four times a week. More, actually, in the last few weeks.” She couldn’t help it; she dropped her gaze to roam over Emma’s body.

As it was, undeniably, the star in many of her fantasies as of late.

Emma seemed to know very well what she was getting at, as her breath hitched in her throat, and Regan could see how she shuddered.

“I’m just usually a lot quieter, because I’m a good roommate. Normally, when I know you’re home, I just do it while laying on my stomach and bite my pillow, so–”

An aching, deep groan rumbled from Emma, as she held her hand up to cut Regan off. “Oh my god, Regan, you can’t be telling me this stuff. Please.”

Finding that none of her prior embarrassment was lingering, Regan shrugged up at Emma, unashamed. In fact, based on Emma’s reaction, she felt empowered by it; she wanted to tell her more. To see if Emma would make any more of those hot little sounds. “Why not? Do you not like it?” She challenged. She moved to step toward Emma, only to be stopped as Emma’s hands shot out quickly, landing on her shoulders.

“Stop! The glass.” Worry etched into Emma’s tone, as she glanced down at the floor, carefully walking Regan back a step. “Be careful.” Emma turned away, walking to the other end of the kitchen, to grab the broom. “Just, let me take care of this.”

Absurdly touched, Regan stayed still and watched Emma work. She held her tongue for several more minutes, until Emma had swept, vacuumed, and then ran a damp paper towel over the floor for good measure.

When Emma was all done, Regan smiled up at her. “Thank you. Sorry, again, for dropping the glass. I just got so caught up in kissing you that I didn’t even register it was still in my hand.”

Guilelessly, she shrugged.

Immediately, Emma dropped her head back. “Regan, we can’t–”

“If you don’t want this, then why did it clearly bother you so much when you thought I had someone else in my room?” Regan challenged, feeling re-invigorated by the thought. This time, she did take a step forward, closer to Emma. She felt compelled to do it, drawn to stand so close to her, wanting to be as near as possible.

“If you don’t have feelings for me, then why does it matter to you if I was having sex with someone else? I know you were upset about it, Emma, so please do us both a favor and don’t deny it,” there was an edge of begging in her voice, and she couldn’t control it.

Because she felt pretty damn desperate, right now. Desperate to know the truth. Desperate for Emma to tell Regan that she wasn’t delusional; that Emma not only felt this insane attraction but felt more, just like she did. That it wasn’t limited to only Regan.

“Fine, Regan, I was upset. Are you happy?” Emma snapped back, the same desperation in her voice that Regan felt pulsing through her. “I was upset at the idea that you had someone in your room. The idea of you having sex with someone else in our apartment makes me feel crazy, sick to my fucking stomach. Okay?”

“Okay!” Regan accepted, elated by the fact. She felt so… light. Like she could drift away with how happy this made her. “Great!”

“It’s not,” Emma denied, tossing her hands in the air as she looked at Regan like she’d grown a second head.

“Why?” She challenged, because she just didn’t understand. If Emma felt half as much for Regan as she did for Emma, then it was amazing to know it was reciprocated! “I’ve tried so, so hard to respect your privacy when it comes to your feelings, I really have. I haven’t pressed you to talk to me about them, and I had no plans to. But please, Emma, if you want me to understand, I need you to lay all of your cards on the table for me. Just like I’ve done for you.”

Because, otherwise, Regan would never be able to wrap her mind around this. She wasn’t sure she’d understand, even after.

Emma stared at Regan, that expression of desire and attraction so clearly on display, even as it was marred with obvious internal conflict.

“I would never ask you to do something that I wouldn’t be willing to do, myself,” Regan continued, unable to stop the words from falling out of her mouth. “I’ll never ask you to bare your soul to me without baring mine, first,” she promised, her voice hoarse with how much she really, truly meant it. “I know it’s not as easy for you as it is for me. I know you like privacy, and I know you’re scared to let people in, and–”

“If you were, somehow, a stranger to me, this would all be different,” Emma broke in, her voice so soft, but so easily commanding Regan’s full attention.

Confusion slid through her, and she tilted her head up at Emma with uncertainty.

“If you were a stranger I happened to meet three months ago at the café, then this would all be different,” Emma elaborated, shaking her head. “A stranger that makes me laugh the way you make me laugh, that makes me feel so comfortable like you do. A stranger that has gone through these ups and downs with my family and stood by my side the entire time, a stranger that goes out of her way to visit my gram and bake with her. A stranger that took it upon herself to try to help my gram make friends.”

The look in Emma’s eyes was so intense, it stole Regan’s breath right from her lungs.

“A stranger that happens to be so cute when you smile at videos of animals on the internet, that it makes my heart flutter. A stranger with a mouth that makes me think such inappropriate thoughts, whose smile is like sunshine. A stranger who is not only the most attractive person I know, but who looks at me like I’m the most attractive person you know?” Emma pressed her hand to her own chest as she spoke, like she still couldn’t believe what she was saying was true.

Regan back into the counter, her knees feeling so weak as Emma spoke. The emotion in her voice was so strong, so compelling, and Regan’s head spun with it.

“If you were a stranger, I would be on my knees, begging you to give me a chance. That’s how I feel, Regan.” Emma finished, searching Regan’s gaze with her own, her chest heaving with every breath she took. Like laying that all out for Regan had taken so much out of her, and Regan – knowing Emma – knew that it probably had.

“You don’t have to beg me,” she breathed, her entire body buzzing with energy. “You don’t need to be on your knees–”

She cut herself off, choking on the word as the image of Emma on her knees in front of her – something new for Regan’s fantasies, but something very, very welcome – took over her mind.

Shaking herself out of it, she focused on what was important. What was right in front of her. The fact that Emma liked her back?! That much!

“I’m right here. No begging required. I’ve already told you that I like you.” So, so much.

“But you aren’t a stranger,” Emma shot back, dropping her head back with a groan that sounded literally pained. “You’re Regan. We share an apartment – an apartment that we could never truly avoid one another in. We share a best friend – a best friend that is undeniably closer to you than to me, and I don’t want to risk Sutton’s friendship. And I… I really like you, Regan. As a person. As a friend. As the only person in my life that isn’t my grandmother that sees me, that knows my entire history. It’s so much more complicated because you aren’t a stranger.”

Regan stared at Emma, wanting more than anything to reach out to her. To touch her, not in a romantic or sexual kind of way, but just to – to comfort that struggle evident in her face, to ease the tightness in her shoulders.

“Well, what do you want to do?” She asked, plainly. Because it was the only thing she could think of doing, now. “You know where I stand. I do think you’re the most attractive person I know. I do want to touch you every time we’re together, just to feel close to you. I love to look at you. To spend time with you. But…” She rolled her lips, shrugging heavily. “I can try to push past it, like I said. I mean, knowing that you have feelings for me back is going to make it infinitely more difficult. And if you meet someone and bring them home to our apartment, I might need to, like, rip out their hair or something.”

Emma laughed, which then turned into a whine. “I hate that I find you so funny,” she admitted, before she sighed.

A visceral satisfaction worked through Regan at that. “Well, I love that you do. Furthermore, we can work out a masturbation schedule. I’ll let you know every time I’m going to really let loose, and–”

“Oh my god, please, don’t,” Emma cut her off, aiming a serious look at her.

“I don’t know what else to do, then.” Slowly, carefully – as if she were approaching a wild animal – she walked forward. And she took it as an amazing, wonderful sign that Emma didn’t step back. “I get it; it’s complicated. We live together. We share Sutton. We’re friends.”

She came to stand right in front of Emma, only inches away, and she stared up at her. Breathing the same air, feeling Emma’s body warmth, and Regan shivered at the proximity. “Just one date. Give me the chance to take you on one date, and if it goes badly or we get the impression that things won’t work out for us in any way, then – that’s it. We’re three and a half months into our living arrangement, so we’re halfway through. If the date doesn’t go well, then, that’s that. We know that we really can’t push this, and we will go back to normal.”

Regan had no idea that this plea to take Emma on a date had been going to leave her mouth; she’d never even let herself think about that as an option with Emma before.

But now that the idea occurred to her, she wanted it so, so badly. It sparked something to life inside of her, something sweeping and romantic, something she’d never really felt before.

It seemed that was par for the course with Emma, didn’t it?

Emma’s eyes were wide and beseeching, but Regan didn’t know what she wanted from her. Wildly, she thought that she wanted to give Emma anything she could possibly ask for. As just hoped that what Emma asked for was her.

Regan held her breath, unable to breathe normally with the anxiety and anticipation coursing through her as she waited for Emma’s response.

It was going to be a no. Logically, she knew it. She knew that Emma didn’t like to take chances, didn’t like change, and –

“Okay,” Emma agreed, her voice so soft. “We can go on one date. To see how it goes.”

Regan’s mouth fell open as the shock took her over, quickly replaced by elation. She squealed with it, hopping onto her tiptoes and throwing her arms around Emma’s neck, unable to help herself. She couldn’t contain this! Just earlier tonight, she’d been so convinced this would never be a possibility, that she’d downloaded SapphicSpark! And now…

“I can’t wait. I’m going to sweep you off your freaking feet,” she swore, her heart pounding in her chest, and she could feel Emma’s pounding as well, as Emma’s arms tentatively wrapped around her waist, too.

“I’m wondering if I should be a little scared,” Emma whispered into her ear.

She shivered at the feeling of Emma’s warm breath, chuckling at the exhilaration coursing through her. “Maybe you should be.”

Maybe they both should be.

Emma squeezed her again, before her hands slid an inch down Regan's waist, and they both froze.

Abruptly, Emma dropped her hold and leaned back from Regan, breaking their embrace. She took a small step backward. “I think you should maybe put something else on.”

Her cheeks flushed, excited pleasure rushing through her as she deliberately tapped her finger against her lips, as she hummed, “Hmm? You think?”

Emma’s eyes immediately flashed to watch her, which was precisely what Regan hoped would happen.

Delighted by it, she slid her fingertips down over her chin, gliding down the side of her neck, over her collarbone… Emma’s eyes still followed the movement, and Regan wasn’t sure she’d ever felt more alive.

Especially as she slowly dragged her own touch down the center of her chest, into the middle of her bra, hooking into the soft fabric. Her own stomach dipped, heat spiraling through her all over again, because she swore she could feel Emma’s stare, adding a weight to her touch.

Emma wheeled away, a low moan in her throat. “I told you how attracted I am to you and that I have feelings for you less than ten minutes ago, and you’re already doing this to me?”

“I’m incorrigible,” Regan readily agreed. The full realization of this evening dawned on her all over again, and that awed feeling swept through her as she grinned up at Emma. “And you like it.”

“Against my better judgment and all of my willpower… yes. I do,” Emma conceded, biting her lip as she tossed another glance at Regan. Only briefly, as she turned away again. “Seriously, though. Nothing is happening before that date, and I need you to put some clothing on.”

“For you? Anything,” she teased, only… not.

As she did a little happy dance down the hall to her room, she could feel it well up inside of her. How very much she needed this date to go well, because she didn’t think she could come back from this. The high she was on was already so intense, Regan already knew the come down would be brutal.

She had to plan the best date of Emma’s fucking life.

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