The Snowball Effect 28-end (Patreon)

And we're here with the very end!

This story has been quite the experience to write. It's coming in at about 165,000 words - second in length only to Those Who Wait, which... seems fitting.

Thanks for coming on this journey with me.

Now that this has been wrapped up, I am going to take a few days to enjoy P-Town, and it's back to the grind! I can't wait to be able to focus on some other projects, now that my laser focus on TSE is done :)

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

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Emma watched Brynn pack up her desk, feeling a very unexpected pang of sadness in her chest.

“I’m a little surprised at how much I’m going to miss you,” she murmured, rolling with the feeling. If Regan had taught her anything, it was that making someone feel good about themselves could be as simple as sharing your true – positive – feelings about them.

Granted, it still made Emma feel a little too exposed, but she was working on that.

Brynn smiled at her, her eyebrows lifting with that expression that said she was a little surprised, herself. “Wow. From somewhat friends to you’re going to miss me, in a month? Emma, you are truly a dark horse.”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t make me regret it.”

“That feels more like it.” Brynn ran her hand over her forehead with faux-relief. Still, her smile gentled into something more genuine, as she returned, “I’m a little surprised at how much I’m going to miss you, too.”

Brynn zipped up her bag. “I’m sure, in fairness, you’re going to miss me a little more. Given that you’re about to get a newbie to sit across from all day, and there is simply no way they’re going to be as wonderful to share this confined space with as I am.”

Emma scoffed out a laugh, shaking her head. “Yep, and there goes any potential sappy feelings from the goodbye.”

Brynn grinned back, unashamed. “It’s hardly a goodbye, anyway. I can’t wait to come over to the inner sanctum for dinner next week. See where the love story has unfolded.”

Brynn let out an exaggerated sigh, clasping her hands together and leaning her cheek against them.

She groaned, turning back toward her computer. “If I regret anything, it’s when you and Regan managed to exchange numbers.”

Regan had dropped by last week to pick Emma up from work and take her out to dinner – something Emma could never really bring herself to be upset about in any way. She’d tried, really, to tell Regan to at least give her a warning.

But Emma really couldn’t deny that she really enjoyed walking out of the office to see Regan waiting for her, that ridiculously bright, beautiful smile perpetually aimed at her. She hadn’t even disliked it when Regan had done it the very first time, before they’d gotten together, and now…

Well, now, it made Emma’s stomach flutter.

It was a kind of gentle spontaneity that Emma found she liked.

Last week, though, Brynn had left the office a few minutes ahead of her, and when Emma had walked out, she’d seen Brynn and Regan chatting like they were old friends.

Regan had asked Emma for explicit permission before she’d mentioned inviting Brynn over to their apartment for dinner, though, which she deeply appreciated. And even as she’d initially wanted to say no because it felt very… personal, having Brynn come over to her place, she’d found herself tentatively agreeing to it.

“Too late now,” Brynn teased, waggling her phone at Emma, before she breathed out a sigh and looked around their shared space. “I’m all packed up; going to go say goodbye to Vicki before I head out.”

Emma nodded in acknowledgement as she started working through Allegra’s final emails for the day. It wasn’t as though Allegra didn’t have Emma stay on top of her emails throughout the weekend or that she drew a hard line between office hours at at-home hours; it was more that she wanted to make it clear to a certain echelon of people that she was a busy woman, and that she wouldn’t be prioritizing their issues just because they’d decided to email her on a Friday afternoon.

“Emma?” Allegra called from inside of her office.

Glancing up, she could see that Allegra was already looking at her through the glass wall, expectantly. She was already standing even before her boss added, “In here, please.”

Emma walked through the open doorway, turning on the tablet she kept notes on for Allegra as she went.

“I couldn’t help but overhear your heartfelt goodbye to Brynn,” Allegra commented, surprising Emma, as she looked up at Emma from over the top of her glasses.

Yes, and there was that feeling of exposure. Emma’s stomach squirmed with it, before she forcefully reminded herself that telling Brynn she’d miss her wasn’t wrong or inappropriate. “Like I said: surprising, but true.”

Allegra’s lips twitched into a grin. “Yes, I understand that. I do want to assure you that you won’t be left to train someone brand new; I’ve officially poached Britney from health and fitness.”

Narrowing her eyes, Emma wracked her brain trying to place a face with the name. “She handles their department admin.”

Allegra nodded. “She’s actually been doing much of the communications work that should be done by Lesley’s assistant, as well as keeping the wellness department completely in check. I think you’ll find that she’ll be a more than adequate replacement.”

“That’s great,” Emma commented, hesitantly. And, it was great; Emma definitely hadn’t wanted to have to take it upon herself to show someone the ropes at Olly, get them familiar with their systems and policies. The fact that all she had to do was get Britney up to speed on Allegra’s schedule sounded amazing.

She couldn’t help but feel a little confused, though, at the fact that Allegra felt the need to call her into her office to discuss it face-to-face at the end of the day on a Friday.

“I thought so.” The look in Allegra’s eyes sharpened, as she pursed her lips. “Now, onto our actual business.”

This made more sense, and Emma hovered her fingers over the screen of the tablet, at the ready.

“Now that Henry’s been let go, I’m casting a wider net for submissions for next month. We have a gap to fill, and I’m not going to race to hire a new full-time staff writer. We’ll obviously be looking at free-lancers we’ve worked with in the past, but what I’m looking for is something new. Ideally, I want a writing voice we haven’t featured, before.”

Emma typed shorthand notes for herself as she nodded. “Makes sense.”

And it should be simple enough; people constantly sent in submissions for human interest pieces. Combing through them to find ones that were actually well-written, that had some real meat to them… well, Emma supposed that was why they were starting now.

“I want you to feel free to submit a piece; you can send it directly to me.”

Emma was in the middle of typing out Allegra’s words before the meaning of them sunk in, and everything inside of her froze.

Gripping the tablet tightly so she didn’t make a fool of herself and drop it, she whipped her head up to stare at Allegra.

Who was staring back at her with a sharply arched eyebrow, clearly waiting for Emma to catch up.

“I’m – sorry. You want me to submit a piece?” More than anything, Emma hated the idea of looking like a moron to Allegra. But she couldn’t help but to press this, feeling a little sure that she must had mis-heard.

“I’m not guaranteeing you’ll be published,” Allegra’s tone was firm as she held Emma’s gaze, as if needing to make sure Emma wasn’t going to walk away from this thinking that she was taking over Henry’s job or something.

Not something Allegra needed to concern herself about, because Emma was having trouble believing this was real.

“No, I know that.”

“I’ve read over all of your notes for our Alton finalists; the edits and critiques you made were saliant and astute. I’d have made the same comments on many of them.”

A flushed pleasure worked through Emma, and she found herself unable to hold back her smile. “That’s amazing to know. Thank you.”

Allegra waved her off, her stare intent and direct. “I felt inspired to pull up the pieces you submitted for the Fellowship, when you’d been accepted. Your writing was good. Very good. On a couple of pieces, I’d even go so far as to say exceptional.”

Yeah, Emma now had to try to contain how wide her smile grew, as surprise swept through her. “Thank you. Again.”

“I know, however, that you were unable to accept your place in the program. Which is a shame. It could have very likely changed your career trajectory.” She narrowed her eyes meaningfully at Emma, gesturing around her own office.

Emma knew what she was saying even without her saying the words aloud. And it was true; if Emma had been able to complete the Alton Fellowship, to take a crash-course in upping her skills, to make all of the connections that would have been available to her, there was a good chance she wouldn’t be working as Allegra’s assistant to get her foot in the door.

It was something she’d tried very gamely not to think about over the past couple of months, granting people access to what had once been Emma’s own dream.

Luckily, she’d had everything going on with Regan to distract her from ruminating on it too much.

“I’d like to think I’m on a decent trajectory, still,” Emma cut in, deferentially.

Even so, she did mean it. Working under Allegra wasn’t something she took lightly, and she didn’t want her boss to think that Emma believed she was better than this.

“So you are,” Allegra agreed, an air of approval in her tone. “And I’d like to see you continue it. So, get me a piece by next Wednesday, and I’ll give it a read.”

“Yes. Absolutely. Thank you.” How much had Emma thanked this woman in the last five minutes?! It didn’t matter; she’d do it even more if she felt like Allegra wouldn’t be irritated by it.

“You don’t need to thank me; you’ll earn any publication by your own merit.” Allegra frowned down at her laptop screen. “Before you leave today, make sure you move up my meeting with Margaret Eddy to Monday morning.”

Understanding that she was being dismissed, Emma nodded. “Absolutely.”

She had to bite her lip to contain her stunned smile as she turned back to her desk.

***

What was she going to write about?

The thought had started to bounce around Emma’s mind, obsessively, for the last hour and a half.

She had essentially three days to think of something good – something interesting, something moving, something that made Allegra respect Emma as not only an assistant with potential but as a real, prospective writer.

As she left work, she already had her phone in hand, unable to quell her amazement any longer.

Emma – 5:42PMI have giant news

Regan Girlfriend-Material Gallagher – 5:42PMGood news??? Bad news? Scary news? What kind of news, beautiful?!

She still felt that slight hit of warmth on her cheeks at Regan’s nickname. Granted, she’d heard the nicknames Regan had used to refer to Sutton over the years, so she couldn’t say she was at all surprised that she was on the receiving end of her own nicknames. Given that they were in a relationship.

Given that Regan loved her.

Yeah. It had been a couple of weeks since Regan had dropped that L word on her, and Emma’s stomach still fluttered at the idea. Regan wasn’t shy about saying it, either.

She’d tell Emma she loved her before they went to sleep. She’d say it when they woke up in the morning. She’d pant it in gasping, moaning breaths when Emma made her come. She’d write it in little notes when she prepared Emma’s lunch – something she’d only done a couple of times, but Emma found it damningly sweet.

Every time Regan said it, though, it made Emma pause. Made her feel.

She’d never been loved like this, before. Yes, her grandmother loved her unconditionally, and so did her mom, as different as they’d showed that love throughout her life. But romantically, it had never been close to this.

The only person that had ever said I’m in love with you to Emma had been Felicity. And it was not something she’d wanted to make a production out of, not something she’d given any fanfare.

That had been fine. Honestly, it had been what Emma believed she’d wanted. Something quiet, understated, and modest. Something that Emma had believed was just – real. No sappy, exaggerated gestures and meaningless fluff.

Though Emma had never had an easy time admitting when she was wrong, this was probably the easiest thing to be wrong about.

Because being loved by Regan wasn’t quiet or understated or modest; it was loud and sappy and heart-pounding, and the realest thing Emma had ever experienced.

If someone had given her the hypothetical situation that her partner would tell her they loved her, but Emma wasn’t ready to say it back, she’d have imagined it would make her anxious. That she’d feel pressured and uncomfortable and that she’d wished they’d waited longer to tell her.

She’d never have imagined that she didn’t feel stressed at all by Regan’s confession or repeated statements. It was purely because of Regan, herself. She didn’t expect Emma to say anything back until she was ready, and Emma knew that.

And with that love came these nicknames. Most often, they were comments on Emma’s looks – specifically, on how attractive Regan thought she was.

Again, something Emma was definitely not used to in any way. But… something she couldn’t deny made her feel good. It felt wildly, unexpectedly good to be reminded how attracted to her Regan was. Emma hadn’t felt better about herself in her entire life.

Regan Girlfriend-Material Gallagher – 5:43PM?!?! the post-work rush is dying down a bit and now I’m dying to know what your news is!!

She couldn’t even be upset about the fact that Regan had commandeered her phone and changed her contact info. Something that would have once driven her crazy was now something she looked at with every text and smiled at.

Emma – 5:43PMAllegra is giving me the chance to submit a piece

She paused, before correcting herself.

Emma – 5:43PMActually, she asked me to submit something

Unsurprisingly, Regan’s response was immediate, in spite of the fact that she was working.

Regan Girlfriend-Material Gallagher – 5:43PMSHUT THE FRONT DOOR

Regan Girlfriend-Material Gallagher – 5:43PMThat’s so exciting!!!

Regan Girlfriend-Material Gallagher – 5:43PMEMMA!

Regan Girlfriend-Material Gallagher – 5:43PMI love you!!! You deserve this!

Biting her cheek, Emma shook her head as she walked toward the subway station.

Emma – 5:44PMThere’s a huge chance it’s not getting published

Regan Girlfriend-Material Gallagher – 5:44PMNot with that attitude!!

Regan Girlfriend-Material Gallagher – 5:44PMWho cares, anyway! It’s about the fact that she wants you to submit your writing!!!!!!

This was it.

Who else, in the world, would be so unadulteratedly, unashamedly, unassumingly thrilled for her, when she wasn’t even published, yet. When she hadn’t even written a piece, yet? Regan might even be more excited than Emma was.

Regan Girlfriend-Material Gallagher – 5:45PMI guess it’s a good thing I’m working until late tonight, huh? I’ll be out of your hair for you to get some real, focused, dedicated writing time

Emma lifted her eyebrows in consideration; she hadn’t even thought about that. But Regan was supposed to be working until ten, which meant Emma had the apartment to herself to write. That was great.

It would be silent and still and she’d have time with just her thoughts. That was… great.

Emma’s steps slowed, realizing that she didn’t really feel like it was great. The idea of going back to their apartment and being there alone for most of the night made her stomach sink, the distinct feeling of disappointment sliding through her.

There was nothing appealing to her about going home to their apartment – even to write this piece – when Regan wasn’t going to be there. When she wouldn’t get to see her exuberant smile or hear the enthusiastic words Regan was sure to have or to feel the press of Regan’s mouth against hers. Going home to their empty apartment right now felt just like that: empty.

Emma could feel her heart start pounding in her chest at the realization. Was she crazy? She’d never in a million years ever imagined this would her response, but it was undeniable.

That feeling stayed with her until she found herself not at their apartment, but at the entrance to Topped Off.

She took a deep breath, pulling open the glass door, as she heard the familiar jingle of the bells that signaled her entrance.

Even in the “lull” that Regan had described, the café wasn’t empty. Topped Off was rarely ever truly empty. Regan was behind the counter, chatting animatedly with the only customer in line as she effortlessly made their drink order.

And… yeah.

Emma felt it, that feeling in her chest that she’d been experiencing for weeks now. That feeling that she’d written off in the beginning as the excitement over her new relationship. But if that were the case, it wouldn’t feel the way it felt.

More intense, more insistent, as time continued passing. She felt it now, alive and buzzing inside of her, even louder than it normally was.

Coupled with it right now, as Regan handed the customer their drink and looked up across the café to meet Emma’s eyes, was the tight spiral of nerves echoing through her.

Nerves, and excitement, and readiness, and love.

“Emma?” Regan’s tone was tinged with wonder, her expression brightening with that smile Emma had never been able to dislike, even in their most antagonistic moments. “What are you doing here? Do you want to caff-up for the night of writing ahead?”

With a deep breath, Emma strode forward to the counter, and she had no idea what she was going to say, she just knew this was the time to say it.

“My middle name is Avery.”

Confusion flit over Regan’s face, even as a small, baffled smile tugged at her lips. “The way you’ve guarded that from me, I would have thought it was way more embarrassing.”

Emma nodded. “It is. Because it’s after Avery Wilder.”

Predictably, Regan’s eyes widened with obvious glee. “Shut up! Really? The actress?”

“Kimberly was fifteen, and her favorite show was Here for Tomorrow, so…” Emma shrugged, not even able to summon the kernel of embarrassment she’d normally feel when telling this fun fact to someone.

Especially not in the face of Regan’s excitement, that gorgeous smile unfailingly making Emma’s stomach flutter.

“That’s so cool. Mine’s Cady, by the way. After one of my mom’s aunts. Boring origin story.”

“And if I’d known you in middle school, maybe I’d feel differently about telling people my middle name. Because, yeah, the name itself is totally fine; as a name, I have no issues with it. It was people’s reactions to finding out that my mom named me after an actress, when everyone in my private school was named after family members or other… respectable people, I guess, that made me embarrassed.” She stared at Regan, thinking that if she’d known Regan earlier in her life, she’d probably feel very different about closing people out.

Regan’s grin softened. “Well, kids can be really shitty. But I appreciate you telling me.” The confusion from a few minutes ago crept back. “Is that why you came here?”

Shaking her head, Emma felt her heart start to pound – quickly and demandingly – in her chest. “No, I…” She drew in a deep breath, holding it in, and gathering strength from it to say, “I came here to tell you that I noticed you first.”

Regan froze, her smile in place even as her eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “Uh… huh?”

Her breath came a little faster, and the words started to pour out of her. “A few months ago, the first time we went to my mom’s for dinner and you called me into your room.”

That memory was burned into Emma’s mind, locked in.

Because, “It was the first time I’d ever seen you, undressed.” And she’d tried so very hard not to let herself feel anything.

Regan nodded, slowly, as she placed her palms on the counter between them and leaned in. “Right. I remember that.”

“You said that people always notice Sutton first,” Emma prompted, and that sentence had sounded a little crazy to Emma, even then. “But I need you to know that I noticed you first.”

Still looking confused, Regan’s grin turned teasing. “Okay, sure, but only because I burned you with coffee.”

Still, resolutely, Emma shook her head. “No, actually. If you recall, due to my gram oversharing, I’d already seen you in here and liked you, before that.”

“Your crush, riiiight,” Regan drew out, tilting her head up at Emma. “But–”

“The first time I ever saw you was also the first time I’d ever seen Sutton. She was in here; right here, actually.” Emma gestured to the exact spot she was standing, right across from the register. “You two were talking, but I couldn’t hear what was being said. And you made a comment, and you two both laughed. And yes, Sutton’s beautiful – absolutely. But I noticed you. Your laugh and your smile and the way your eyes lit up.”

She stared intently at Regan, hoping she understood what this meant to Emma. Not only the memory, but that she was telling Regan here. In public, in front of one of Regan’s coworkers, who was only a few feet away, and was surreptitiously pretending not to listen.

And she only felt the barest amount of embarrassment, because she wanted Regan to know, and she wanted her to know, now.

The smile slowly faded from Regan’s face, as she stared up at Emma with that look Regan sometimes wore when she stared at her. That soft, wide-eyed, adoring look.

“Emma,” she breathed, and Emma shook her head.

There was more, and she needed to say it.

“I meant what I said to Sutton on that call; it was easier to lean into finding you irritating, rather than let myself give in to anything else. Because I did have a crush on you before we met. No, I didn’t really know you. But I’d come in here for a few months, and I not only was attracted to you, but… I loved how funny you were. I loved that you never seemed daunted or overwhelmed during rush times. I loved that you were willing to give tourists recommendations, and that you remembered facts about your regulars. But I definitely was not ready to feel any more than that, so it was a lot safer to wall all of that away,” she admitted, her cheeks heating, especially as she saw Regan’s coworker turn and stare at her, all pretense of not eavesdropping forgotten.

“This summer has changed my life. And for someone who has never liked change, that’s a scary thing. But it’s all been… good. Everything in my life is better now than it was before, and it’s because of you.”

Wow, Emma felt a little breathless. She could hear it in her own voice, and she swallowed hard, as she whispered, “I’m in love with you, Regan. To the point that I don’t even want to go home and take advantage of our empty apartment for the night. Because the thing I want to do the most when I have good news or even just when I leave work, is be with you.”

She inhaled sharply with surprise as Regan hopped up from where she stood, bracing herself on the counter, and surged across to press her lips to Emma’s.

Despite the emotion and the vulnerability and the public aspect of it all, she didn’t care. She didn’t care that they were in the café or that there were a few customers at the tables or that everyone was definitely watching.

She cared about the fact that she could feel the smile on Regan’s soft mouth.

The moment was over within seconds, as Regan ended the kiss. As Emma blinked her eyes open, Regan was already in full motion. She made her way around the counter and grabbed Emma’s hand in hers, tugging hard.

“Jackie, I’m taking my break,” she informed her coworker, and Emma followed Regan willingly.

As Regan shoved open the door to the back room, she couldn’t help but think about their first official meeting. Especially as Regan quickly turned and gripped Emma’s shirt by the collar, and she teased, “Are you going to rip this one too?”

“Don’t tempt me; you’re lucky I didn’t do it in the middle of the café,” Regan growled, tugging Emma down to capture her mouth once more.

The kiss was hungry and searching and hot and sweet, and Emma gave into it, much like she’d given herself to Regan.

Chapter Twenty-NineSix Weeks Later

Emma sighed contentedly as she blinked her eyes open for the first time of the day and snuggled in close to Regan.

Which wasn’t difficult, given how they typically were wrapped up in one another upon waking up for the day. Unsurprisingly, Regan was an intense cuddler. Surprisingly, Emma didn’t mind it.

Even more surprisingly, she often found herself cuddling in close to Regan, much like this morning. She was spooning Regan from behind, the contours of their bodies aligning, from their slightly bent legs, to the way Regan’s butt was cradled in Emma’s lap, to how Regan’s back was pressed against Emma’s front, with Emma’s arm draped over her waist.

It felt so… normal. Alarmingly normal, to wake up with the fresh, minty scent of Regan’s shampoo in her nose, the soft feeling of Regan’s sheets surrounding her. Emma’s own pillows were now in Regan’s bed, because she had a very specific preference for neck support.

For the first few weeks into their relationship, she’d kept her own bedding in her own room, but in the last month she’d given in. The reality was that she hadn’t slept in her own bed in… Emma didn’t even remember, at this point.

She’d valiantly tried at the beginning to maintain some semblance of boundaries and distance, if only just a little. It was hard from the get-go, given that they lived together and – without Emma even realizing how intensely – their day-to-day lives were so entangled.

But she figured she’d probably still at least sleep in her own room at least a few days a week.

Even after the first few weeks, she’d deluded herself into believing it. It truly wasn’t until after Regan had told Emma that she loved her that Emma had to just be honest with herself.

She wasn’t going to sleep by herself at night in her own room. Definitely not after having sex with Regan. Not on the nights they didn’t have sex, either. What in the world was appealing about walking away from being with her girlfriend to go to sleep in her room, alone, when Regan was a hallway away?

Contrary and grumpy as Emma could be, she wasn’t stupid. Why would she want to punish them both?

Also, her room didn’t have that –

The Modern Family – Mothers and Daughters by Emma Bordeaux –

The printed and framed story that Regan had hung up proudly on her wall two weeks ago. Allegra had not only accepted her piece, praised it, and published it, but she’d also encouraged Emma to continue submitting to Olly!

And Regan had made a countdown that she’d hung up in their living room until the day Emma’s piece had gone live, before immediately framing it. Oh, but not only did she frame this one, but also one for Gram and Kimberly, as well.

She dropped an affectionate kiss to the soft skin of Regan’s neck.

Surprise filtered through her when she felt Regan shiver against her lips, and she drew back a few inches to look down.

Yep, Regan had goosebumps. She heard Regan sigh, before she felt the press of Regan’s ass roll firmly backward into her.

Fascinated by her girlfriend’s response to a kiss Emma had considered fairly innocuous – innocent, even – she dipped her head down to kiss Regan again, dragging her lips lightly over the soft skin of the side of Regan’s neck.

“Emma,” Regan breathed, rolling her hips back again. This time, more insistently. Deliberately pressing against Emma’s hips.

“Are you awake?” She whispered, surprise filtering through her.

Regan sometimes woke up before Emma did, but she didn’t usually stay all cuddled up and warm and languid against Emma like this. She almost always stayed in bed, but she would typically be on her phone and texting Sutton or scrolling social media or even making Topped Off schedules or typing out an idea for a recipe. She’d be quiet and respectful while letting Emma continue to sleep, but once Regan was awake, her mind was moving a mile a minute.

“Mhmm,” Regan hummed, stroking her fingertips up Emma’s forearm that was draped around her waist. She then scratched as she moved her hand back down, and Emma found herself shivering. “Been waiting for you to wake up.”

“You’re being awfully polite about it… very unlike you,” Emma teased, speaking against the side of Regan’s throat. The feeling of Regan’s skin against her moving lips made them tingle, and she loved that feeling.

“I’m polite,” Regan countered, an offended tone in her voice, circling her fingers around Emma’s wrist, and squeezing. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough to remind Emma about the thrill Regan always got when she held Emma down.

Or when Emma held her down. Unsurprisingly, Regan liked to give just as well as she got, and she liked to get just as well as she gave. There was nothing – so far – they’d ventured into when it came to sex that Regan didn’t want to explore.

“You are not polite when you want me to wake up,” Emma disagreed, still. She couldn’t help herself from nipping her teeth into Regan’s neck – lightly, teasingly, but a reminder that Emma knew she was right about this.

Regan groaned, the sound husky and deep in her throat. “Well, that’s because usually I’m not waking you up so that you can touch me and make me come; I felt like waking you up for that would be pervy.”

Heat licked at her, starting between her thighs as her clit pulsed to life at Regan’s words. “You’ve been laying here, awake, thinking about me touching you?”

She was no longer surprised by how forthright Regan was in saying how much she wanted her. She sometimes was surprised by how fucking strongly her body reacted to it, though.

“Mm,” Regan hummed again, nodding against the pillow.

Anticipating Regan’s next move, Emma rocked her hips into Regan’s ass the next time she pushed herself back into Emma.

And, yeah, the pulsing between her legs was already strong enough that she felt it. Even though the contact wasn’t right on her clit, the pressure of Regan’s ass pushing against her provided Emma just enough to push the heat inside of her up to a solid simmer.

“I had this dream,” Regan started, her voice raw and needy.

“What happened in this dream?” Emma asked, already feeling a little breathless, as she tightened her hold over Regan’s waist and deliberately pressed into her ass.

Regan placed her hand over the back of Emma’s and laced their fingers together. Then she used her guiding touch to work Emma’s hand under the loose T-shirt Regan had worn to bed.

“You happened,” she rasped. “You made me come over and over again, and I woke up so… wanting. So fucking wet.”

As she spoke, Regan slowly slid Emma’s hand down under the waist of the tiny, thin shorts she had on.

Closing her eyes, Emma reveled in the feeling of Regan’s body under her touch. How warm she was, how soft. How Regan seemed to strain back against her, yearning for Emma’s touch. How she always gave herself to Emma without hesitation, and how being on the receiving end of that obvious desire was the sexiest thing Emma had ever fucking experienced.

Her own breath caught in her throat as Regan pushed Emma’s hand down, down, and finally, both of their fingers brushed against Regan’s hard clit.

“You weren’t kidding,” Emma murmured, groaning at the feeling of Regan absolutely soaking her fingertips at the slightest touch.

“Would have been the worst joke ever,” Regan grit back, her voice edging into a needy whine, as she rolled her hips back again.

This time, as her ass pressed against Emma, she swore she felt it right against her clit. Need sparked through her, as she worked her fingers over Regan’s hard clit in slow circles. A move that she knew wouldn’t make Regan come – she needed Emma to move a lot faster – but would drive her crazy.

Regan lifted her leg up to hook over Emma’s thigh, giving Emma more freedom to actually touch her.

She slid her fingers down, pressing only her fingertips at Regan’s entrance. She knew, now, that Regan did love to be filled, that she loved taking Emma’s fingers inside of her. But that her favorite thing about it was right as Emma started to push inside, that initial feeling.

Pressing open-mouthed kisses against Regan’s throat, she fucked her slowly and shallowly. She avoided Regan’s clit deliberately, even as Regan started truly moaning.

It was Emma’s favorite thing, the thing that made her absolutely, utterly crazy with her own need. Those sounds that Regan let out, loud and bold and unashamed, these sounds that told Emma just how much Regan wanted her. How lost she was in her pleasure.

Every time, it took her back to that first night. Every time, Emma thought about how these fucking sounds had gripped something inside of Emma and pushed her forward into their relationship.

Her own – much softer, but no less desperate – cries escaped the back of her throat as she rocked her hips against Regan. She’d never be able to come like this, but that didn’t matter.

For Emma, right in this moment, it wasn’t about coming. It was about the fact that she couldn’t control this desire. That her clit was aching and needy, and Regan felt so fucking good against her.

“Emma, god, come on. My – you know what I–”

As the keening sounds Regan let out became more desperate, in turn making Emma more desperate, the thought struck her.

She pressed her body firmly into Regan’s back, using her own strength to roll Regan onto her stomach, trapping her hand between Regan and the mattress.

Even though she had far less range of motion like this, it didn’t matter. All she needed to do was be able to touch Regan’s clit, exactly like she was now, slowly working her fingers over it.

Regan was so wet, she didn’t have much friction, and she was pulsing so hard that Emma felt it, and she groaned, before biting at Regan’s shoulder.

She felt Regan shudder, hard, under her, bucking her hips up at Emma. Then she immediately pushed back down, clearly seeking out as much pressure on her clit as possible.

“Yes, fuck, Emma, yes!” Regan pressed her face down into the bed, rocking down against the bed – against Emma’s hand – so hard.

“I remember you said this was what you thought about, that first night on the phone,” Emma panted out, bracing herself with her free hand. Using it to give herself enough leverage so that she could keep rolling her hips down against Regan’s ass.

This angle wasn’t only better for Regan, but herself. Balancing on her knees and spreading her thighs to bracket Regan, Emma’s eyes rolled back with pleasure as she got the first hint of actual contact to her own clit.

Regan nodded, jerkily, as she gasped. “Yeah, this – you – uh-huh.”

If Emma had any wherewithal, she might be amused at Regan’s incoherence. But, as it was, she was almost just as far gone, herself.

“Fuck yourself against me, then,” she demanded. “Just like you imagined, then.”

Regan inhaled sharply, before she released a long, rasping moan, and erratically rolled her hips down. Harder, faster, and Emma’s hand was soaked and –

“Yes! I’m – Emma!” Regan cried out, her throat sounding raw with pleasure, as she started shuddering under Emma.

She rocked down so hard that Emma couldn’t move her hand at all, and she didn’t give a damn. All she could possibly care about was that Regan was coming for her, coming on her, so hard.

She watched and felt Regan’s orgasm start to subside, her movements becoming slower and more relaxed, until Regan finally sighed and melted onto the bed under her.

Emma’s throat was dry, and her own clit was so hard, and she was so wet, she could feel her own sleep shorts sticking to the tops of her inner thighs. Thighs that were already trembling.

Not for the first time, she considered herself the luckiest woman on earth. Because Regan’s rebound period after coming was almost nonexistent, and she’d come to learn that Regan was rarely ever exhausted by an orgasm. If anything, coming seemed to reinvigorate her.

So, so lucky, as Regan arched her hips up and let Emma slide her hand out, and then flipped herself over onto her back in the same breath.

Regan stared up at her, her face flushed, and her dark eyes bright and gleaming.

Emma couldn’t even manage a cogent sentence right now, but she didn’t have to. Because Regan moved so quickly, Emma could hardly register it.

But Regan slid her hand down into the waist of Emma’s shorts, immediately seeking out Emma’s clit.

Apparently, Regan wasn’t in the mood for teasing or playing games this morning, and Emma was so fucking grateful for that.

She rolled her hips down hard into Regan’s hand, already starting to shudder and throb from the way Regan rolled her fingers over her clit.

Still braced over Regan, she looked down at her. Watching Regan as Regan watched Emma’s body.

She hadn’t worn a shirt to sleep, her stomach and breasts were completely bare, and Regan stared at her, transfixed.

Emma moaned, tossing her head back as the need to come wound tighter and tighter inside of her. She felt no shame, not even the faintest hint of insecurity under Regan’s intent gaze. It only made this hot, aching, close feeling build higher and higher inside of her.

She worked her hips harder, feeling viscerally satisfied at the way Regan’s mouth fell open on a whimper.

Regan worked her hand down, pressing two fingers inside of Emma’s clenching walls, as she firmly pressed her palm to Emma’s clit, and –

“Fuck!” She cried out, her orgasm crashing over her.

All she could hear was the blood rushing in her ears, and her thighs shook, as the pleasure wracked through her.

Just before that pleasure turned to discomfort, Regan gently slid her fingers out of Emma. She jerked, then caught her breath as Regan lightly brushed against her clit – yeah, that was the last ounce of pleasure – before she pulled her hand out of Emma’s sleep shorts.

She dropped down next to Regan on the bed, still catching her breath, as she felt Regan cuddle in close to her.

As her heartrate finally returned to normal, Emma let out a long, deep breath. She knew – knowing Regan – that morning conversation was due to start any second now.

“So, what’s on the agenda today?” Regan asked.

Emma’s lips curled into a smile – bingo.

Before that smile immediately faltered as she recalled the thought she’d very intently been pushing to the back of her mind for the last couple of days.

“I should probably start looking for apartments,” she said, quietly.

She knew she wasn’t imagining things when Regan took a second longer to respond than she normally would. “Oh. Right.”

“I mean, it’s officially November. Sutton’s due back in December…” She trailed off, logic filling in the gaps.

The agreement had always been that Emma would find her own place at the end of Sutton’s internship. She’d signed it in the roommate contract. Obviously, Sutton was going to need to move back to her apartment.

So, she needed to find a place to move into by December.

“Yeah,” Regan whispered.

Emma’s stomach twisted unpleasantly, and she drew in a deep breath. Taking in the scent of Regan’s shampoo and laundry detergent, the way it had blended with Emma’s in their bed. She slowly glanced around, looking at the organized chaos of Regan’s room. At the map she had on the wall that she’d drawn, at that framed story Emma had written. At her plants. At her desk, where Emma’s laptop was now perched. The desk chair, where Emma had draped Regan’s Brandeis sweatshirt after she’d tugged it off before bed last night.

She licked her lips, her heart thudding, as she admitted softly, “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but… I don’t want to go.”

Five months ago, she’d never have imagined she’d feel this way. If someone told Emma that the idea of not seeing Regan every day, of giving up this shared existence they’d created, would make her throat feel tight with emotion…

Well, she’d have laughed in their face.

“It’s a great apartment,” Regan’s tone was so obviously glum, even as she tried to interject some levity into it.

Emma turned to look at Regan, who was worrying her teeth into that full bottom lip. “It’s a great person in the apartment,” she corrected. “A person I love.”

Regan’s smile was immediate, as she reached out and traced her fingers over Emma’s cheekbone, all the way back to tuck hair behind her ear.

Then she froze, brown eyes widening, as she shook her head. “Why do you have to go?”

“What?” Emma frowned. “It’s – that was the deal.”

She could feel the energy vibrating through Regan, as she shook her head and refuted Emma’s statement. “Deals change. You don’t want to leave. I definitely don’t want you to go. So – just, don’t.”

Emma couldn’t help the exasperated laugh that bubbled up, even as she rubbed at her temples. God help her, she loved this woman.

“It’s not just about what you and I want,” she reminded her. “Sutton’s going to probably want her room back–”

“Move into mine!” Regan excitedly cut her off, gesturing widely around the room. “It’s bigger than Sutton’s. You barely have that much stuff; we can fit your bookshelves over there.” She pointed to the other side of her room, to her empty wall space. “And you can put your obsessive schedule on the wall in front of the desk! Clothing is the biggest issue, but I’ll make you the space!”

Emma still frowned, shaking her head in disbelief.

Regan wasn’t having it. “You basically already live in here, anyway, hot stuff.”

“It’s not up to me,” she stressed, again. “It’s – even if I moved into this room, we can’t unilaterally just…”

Regan already had her phone in her hands, thumbs flying over the screen. “Asking Sutton now!” She needlessly informed Emma.

Sitting up, Emma scrubbed her hands over her face, trying desperately to wrap her mind around the turn this conversation had rapidly taken.

“Aha!” Regan’s cry was triumphant, and she held her phone out for Emma to read it.

Regan – 9:58AMSUTTON, MY DARLING LADYBUG, I HAVE TO ASK YOU SOMETHING

Regan – 9:58AMWhat do you think about Emma… not moving out? Like, if you move back and you get your room back and everything. But what if Emma moved into my room? And we all were living here????

Sutton, the One and Only – 9:59AMYou mean, another person in our home that thinks rationally and can help me corral you? Someone that has housebroken you and trained you to use a shared calendar? Sounds amazing, actually

“It sounds amazing!” Regan practically bounced where she sat.

Emma continued to stare down at the phone for several beats, as this rapidly forming reality started to set in. The weight of the dread and trepidation she’d started feeling in the last few days over the idea of having to move started lifting from her shoulders, and she turned to look at Regan.

Who was staring at her, questioningly, the bright smile on her face dimming ever-so-slightly. “I mean… I’m not trying to strong arm you into this,” she quickly added, shaking her head vehemently. “Just, if you really meant that you didn’t want to go, this is an option, and–”

“I think Sutton might be sorely disappointed,” Emma interjected, softly but firmly. “Because I don’t think that I think all that rationally around you, anymore. Somehow, you’ve made me think that me moving into your room is completely rational and makes the most sense, in a matter of minutes.”

No, when it came to Regan, Emma didn’t think logically; she’d been completely sucked in.

The wonderous grin that slid across Regan’s face was absolutely gorgeous. “If you give me long enough, I’ll grow on you. I should have warned you that from the beginning.”

“The ultimate snowball effect,” she agreed, leaning in to press her lips to Regan’s and revel in the insanity.

Epilogue

Droplets of rain rolled down Regan’s face, her hair was soaked, and she was wearing a rain jacket but even that clung uncomfortably to her body like a second skin, with how wild the weather was outside.

Even worse than how she felt on the outside, though, was how she felt on the inside.

Her stomach twisted so tightly with guilt and even heavier with disappointment. She was so, so fucking disappointed in herself.

“I’m so sorry,” she apologized for at least the fifth time in as many minutes. And she would keep doing so, for as long as it took!

She rolled both her and Emma’s suitcases down the gleaming hardwood floors of the inn, leaving a small trail of water behind. She’d apologized to the man at the front desk, preemptively for the mess it would leave.

Luckily, the hard side material of their suitcases had protected the contents. The purchase had been made by Emma two years ago, before they’d gone on a trip to London. Not matching suitcases, per-se, but the same brand, with complementing colors. “It’ll be easier to spot them, this way,” Emma had explained, as she’d given Regan’s old, worn, cloth suitcase a disdainful look.

Regan couldn’t disagree. Besides, much like everything Emma did, she’d researched the best, most durable and secure suitcases – this baby handled like a dream, compared to the one Regan had lugged around for the previous ten years.

She loved seeing her bright teal suitcase next to Emma’s dark blue one, next to each other. It was a visual representation of them, as a couple, in a way.

“It’s fine,” Emma said over her shoulder, as she stopped in front of the door to the room they’d been assigned to and put in their key. It was a real key, too, not a key card, and it was designed to look like one of those old-fashioned skeleton keys.

This inn they’d managed to find was super cute, and Regan counted her lucky stars for that.

But, still.

“It wasn’t what we’d planned, though. It wasn’t what I’d planned, and I don’t even know how everything got so messed up!” She lamented, resisting the urge to bang her palm into her forehead.

“Babe, it’s fine,” Emma stated, again, as she opened their door. But her tone wasn’t totally normal; after being together for three years, Regan knew Emma’s tones very well!

“It’s not, and I understand if you’re upset. You don’t have to pretend.” Regan followed Emma into the room, tugging their suitcases behind her, before turning to shut and lock their door.

“The room looks nice,” Emma said, totally ignoring Regan’s self-flagellation, as she looked around the room.

Taking a pause in berating herself, Regan looked around. It was really nice. Fairly large, with airy ceilings. An ornate dresser, a large television, and a cute old-fashioned working desk. The queen-sized sleigh bed had a solid wood frame, with a crisp white duvet laying over it. There were three large windows that Regan imagined might have a nice view… maybe when it wasn’t storming, and there was some daylight coming in.

“At least there’s that,” Regan muttered, releasing her hold on their suitcases, as she flexed her hands to get some feeling back into them.

It was the middle of May, sure, but their walk in from the parking area had been chilly.

“I’m going to go to the bathroom and get situated,” Emma informed her, shaking back her own wet hair. She grabbed the duffel bag she’d brought in and started toward the adjoining door on the other side of the room.

“Great! Good!” She encouraged, trying to inject as much enthusiasm as she could into her tone. “Okay, I’ll… try to figure out what the hell happened to get us so off-track,” Regan muttered, mostly to herself.

Before Emma closed the bathroom door behind her, she pointed to the desk she’d just walked by. “Hey, there’s a guestbook. Why don’t you look through it and see if there’s anything good to do around here if we’re stuck for the weekend?”

With that, she shut the door behind her with a sharp snap, leaving Regan to herself.

Immediately, she took out her phone and pulled up the GPS. It just made no sense!

It was Emma’s birthday weekend, and Regan had planned a little getaway to a cute little town a couple hours upstate. Emma had mentioned it a few weeks ago, because a farm-to-table restaurant had opened there that she’d wanted to try.

And she’d done everything right!

Regan knew herself; she knew that she was prone to potentially making small mistakes, to overlooking details that seemed insignificant but ended up with dire consequences. Since being with Emma, though, she’d changed.

True to what had just played out between them, Emma generally took it in stride when Regan messed up.

But being with someone that was so conscientious and well-prepared, in turn, had made Regan more conscientious and well-prepared. Now that she had her side business with her baked goods up and running, she’d needed to be a lot more organized. Keeping schedules and double-checking details was a game changer.

Sometimes things slipped through the cracks, but… Regan couldn’t think of a single time in the last few years that she’d messed up this badly.

Thirty minutes ago, when the rain had started pouring so hard she’d barely been able to clearly see out of the windshield, she’d gotten a very, very bad feeling in her stomach, and she’d pulled over so she could see what the hell was going on.

Because – from what she’d remembered – they were supposed to have arrived in the cute little town Regan had looked into at least an hour before the downpour was supposed to have started.

She must have gotten carried away during her drive with Emma, though, because she hadn’t even registered that they’d been driving for far, far too long to be correct. But Regan had been focused on the road, and Emma had been reading aloud to her from a new book they’d both wanted to read – so of course, she’d been distracted!

By the time she’d tried to re-calibrate, they were in Vermont! Around them for miles was just… woods. No businesses, no people. Nothing.

Her GPS must have glitched or something, because it had been directing Regan to a small town in Vermont, rather than the one upstate. Again, all Regan’s fault. Because when she and Emma had agreed on wanting to see more small towns around New England, Regan had put Green Ridge, Vermont on her list, and she’d put it in her GPS to check how far it was from the city.

Somehow, even though Regan had put their actual destination in her GPS and had Sutton check it over last night to cover all of her bases, though… this is where they’d wound up.

To make it all worse, it was Emma’s birthday.

Feeling about an inch tall, Regan dragged her soaked rain jacket off and gingerly draped it over the back of the desk chair. Using the dry material of her shirt, she lifted it to dry off her face, before she blinked down at the guestbook Emma had referenced.

Reaching down, she flipped through it, finding that only the first few pages had been filled out.

“Bad luck continues,” she shouted to Emma through the bathroom door. “This is a new book or something, because there are only, like, five entries.”

Heaving a sigh, she tried to shake herself out of it.

When things like this had happened to her in the past, Regan had been able to take it in stride, to make light of it.

But… she’d just tried so hard for this weekend to be perfect.

Emma had officially been hired as a full-time staff writer at Olly a few months ago, and she’d been working so hard trying to prove herself, to make sure she lived up to expectations. Regan had been looking forward to this weekend as a little break, a little breath of fresh air for her, as well as a celebration.

Forcing herself not to go further down the road into the bad place in her mind, she focused down on the guestbook.

I’ve never had a bad experience with her! In fact, every moment I’ve spent with her since the moment we met has made my life a better place. She’s helped my family come together in ways I never would have imagined. The girls keep trying to grab the pen to write their reviews, too – all glowing. – Kimberly Hayes

Frowning with confusion, Regan narrowed her eyes down at the book. What the hell?

“Um… has your mom stayed here?” She asked, even though it didn’t make any sense.

She flipped the page.

All I’ve ever wanted was for someone to make Emma happy. Someone who loves her for who she is. Regan surpassed my expectations. Not only does she love Emma and make her happy, but she makes Emma an even better version of herself. Less… afraid of the world. Less scared to be herself. She makes me feel the same way, too. It’s a very precious gift, and I’m honored to have her be a part of my life. – Sheryl Bordeaux

Okay, Regan wasn’t seeing things. That was Emma’s gram. That was her name.

She was no less baffled – maybe the most confused she’d ever been in her whole life – but her stomach tingled with excitement, nonetheless.

Who wouldn’t love to walk into a room and be able to read people’s – positive – thoughts about them?!

I spent a lot of my life not really knowing her. Not really wanting to know her, because I was so resentful. But I also spent a lot of my life feeling envious of her relationships with other people, the people Regan cared about. It wasn’t until only recently that I allowed myself to see my sister for who she really is, and not who our family told me she was. Taking a page out of Regan’s book was terrifying, but I think it was the best thing I could have ever done for myself. I think it – and she – saved my life. And I’m so grateful that I let her in. Because I don’t have to be envious of the people Regan cares about and supports, anymore. Now, I’m one of those people. I’ve always loved her, but now I feel comfortable – feel allowed – to show it. – Audrey Gallagher

Regan’s breath caught in her throat, surprised. She stroked her fingers lightly over the page. She and Audrey were actually friends now, as well as sisters. So, this wasn’t shocking. But… it was one thing to read this, to see it right in front of her eyes.

“Emma, what the fuck is going on!” She shouted, whipping her head up to look at the bathroom door. Still closed.

Regan could go and try to kick it down and get answers from the woman she was in love with. But… there was still more in the book, and she needed to read it.

I might not be Regan’s mother by birth, but I’m a parent to her by choice. As with all children – including all that I’ve given birth to – there have been issues. People are all flawed. But I’d be hard-pressed to find someone that cares so deeply about everyone else around her, than Regan. I knew from the day I met her – going to pick Sutton up from school, and being informed that my daughter had been pushed around on the playground, only to then be informed that the boy who’d pushed her had then been shoved to the ground by Regan – that she was a very special little girl. And she’s grown into a very special young woman. Seeing her experience the last few years of true happiness and living her life for herself has given me the ultimate parental joy. – Katherine Spencer

Feeling her chin wobble, Regan sniffed. What the hell was this book?! Had she slipped on the rain outside and hit her head?!

I’m not always one for words, especially those from the heart. But I am one for being loyal to my ideals and to my favorite people. I’m someone that respects, deeply, people who follow their heart. I’ve always been someone to have many acquaintances, but few friends. And I’m someone that is truly lucky to consider Regan a great friend. – Charlotte Thompson

“You sappy bitch,” she murmured, before flipping the page again.

I’ll never have enough time to say everything Regan has been for me in my life. A constant confidante, support, reality check, defender, comedienne… a sister, in the truest, most meaningful definition of the word. I want her to have a lifetime of joy and love more than I want it for just about anyone else on the planet. – Sutton Spencer

P.S. Please forgive me, Regan, when you read this. I know you’re probably beating yourself up about how wrong everything seemed to be going tonight. I’m sure you’re going to understand, though.

P.P.S. You always take so much joy in saying that you get to be responsible for my finding love. I can’t tell you how thrilled I am that I get to take responsibility for your love story, too.

Regan gasped as she read that – specifically, Sutton’s apology. Suspicious and eager, she looked down at the final page.

Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine myself in a relationship with this woman.

Loud and messy and chaotic and gossipy…

And sweet and thoughtful and romantic and protective and hilarious and observant and talented and loving.

She has the most beautiful smile on the planet. She makes me feel calm and like everything is going to truly be okay, even in the most tumultuous of times. She’s the best lover I’ve ever had (she’ll appreciate that comment).

Building a life with her feels as natural as breathing, and sometimes I look around at my life – in the apartment we share – while she’s baking or singing to herself or talking to me about articles I want to write or while we’re going to visit my grandmother, and I think… this is it. I don’t want anything or anyone other than this woman for the rest of my life.

10/10 would recommend. – Emma Avery Bordeaux

Her breathing was choppy, and the backs of her eyes burned with tears, and she felt like she knew what was going on, but she needed –

“What’s going on?” She demanded, as Emma opened the bathroom door. She pointed at the book. “What is this?”

Emma’s hair was dry, and she’d changed into the Brandeis sweatshirt that she’d confessed to Regan that she’d worn regularly through the years.

“Did you actually read the cover?” Emma teased, even as Regan could hear the edge of nerves in her voice.

… fair question.

Quickly, Regan closed the book and actually read the swirling font on the cover: Regan Reviews

Shaking her head, she blinked back at Emma. “I just… I don’t…” She trailed off, dragging her hands through her hair. “I’m overwhelmed and amazed, and confused.”

“I’m asking you to marry me,” Emma clarified, biting her bottom lip as she lifted her hand up to show Regan the ring she was holding.

Oh. Wow. Okay. Regan had suspected it, and still, she felt her knees shake, and she jumped forward. Wrapping her arms tightly around Emma’s neck, she held her so close, feeling Emma’s heart pounding along with her own.

Unable to contain herself, she inched back enough to pepper Emma’s face with kisses. Her perfect lips, her cheeks, her nose, her eyelids, her forehead, her chin, back to her lips.

Before she let herself get too caught up in kissing Emma, she pulled back to look at her. “Why did you torpedo this weekend trip that I planned?!”

“Because! When we talked about getting engaged, you said you’d prefer a surprise!” Emma insisted.

And… that was true.

They’d sat down together when Emma had gotten her promotion to talk about the future. Regan had indulged Emma in this conversation, coming prepared with her own notes. Emma loved to sit down together and make detailed plans, and Regan thought it was absolutely the most adorable thing.

“This way, we’ll never have another misunderstanding like the roommate contract,” Emma had explained, the first time they did this – which had been the weekend before Emma had moved into Regan’s room.

“I’m ready. To really think about marriage,” Emma had started their conversation off, a couple months ago.

She’d listed off her reasons: her career was finally where she wanted it to be, Regan felt good about her own situation, Sutton had officially moved out of their apartment and in with Charlotte. All of these were things Regan knew mattered a lot for Emma to have in place, before taking any further steps in their relationship. Which was fine by her.

Because Regan had never really thought about marriage, before. She’d definitely never wanted to marry any of the guys she’d had things with. She wanted a future with Emma, and she loved their life, and she was happy to go at the speed Emma wanted to move at.

True to form, Emma had discussed her thoughts on proposals – she wouldn’t want Regan to propose somewhere public or to make a big fanfare out of it, and she also didn’t love big surprises. All of which were details Regan knew about her, already.

Regan… was the opposite.

So, they’d made an agreement that getting engaged was officially on the table.

Regan shook her head, trying to wrap her mind around it. “But – but it’s your birthday weekend. I was going to propose to you!”

“I kind of figured that,” Emma allowed, with a cute, small smile. “And I figured that I’d beat you to the punch, so what better way to do it than this? A complete and total surprise.”

“I’ll freaking say!” Regan’s hands, braced on Emma’s shoulders, squeezed as she bounced on her tiptoes. “Did you have to do it by making me think I totally fucked up? Also, how did you do that?”

“Sutton,” Emma explained, easily, squeezing Regan’s waist back. “She changed the destination in your GPS when she was “double-checking” it for you.”

“That sneak!”

“She said – and I quote – this is a payback Regan will understand.”

Regan could only laugh, before she remembered – the ring! She pulled out of Emma’s embrace and grabbed her hand, where she still carefully held the ring between her thumb and index finger.

Feeling her own hands shake, she nodded, quickly. “Yes. Obviously, I want to marry you, Emma.”

Carefully, Emma slid the ring onto her finger, and they both stared down for a long moment.

“And now, I get to say that amidst all of our firsts, I proposed to you first,” Emma whispered, sliding her hand up to cup Regan’s jaw. “It’s a pretty big one.”

“The biggest,” she agreed, before leaning in and capturing Emma’s mouth with her own.

She could feel Emma slide her free hand down and lightly stroke her thumb over the band of the ring. It was the perfect fit.

Somehow, they were the perfect fit.

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