Chapter 15

fifteen

"Really, I'm just so grateful, Regan. You have no idea," Kimberly effused for at least the tenth time on their phone call. "I have no idea what I would have done otherwise. And Everly is ecstatic that you're going to be the one making the cake! And that you and Emma are coming to the party!"

Regan was slightly out of breath as she responded, "I'm excited, too! I just – I need you to know, again, that I don't have any professional experience with this–"

"You'll be amazing. Really, without you, my daughter would be having a ninth birthday without a cake, and we'd be hosting a horde of elementary schoolers at a party without any desserts! And all of the sample pictures you sent me last night looked delicious."

Kimberly wasn't shy about her praise, and Regan found herself soaking it in, even as she ran down the street, dodging in and out of people as she finally approached the Fox and Hyde Hotel doors.

"Sorry to cut this a little short, Kimberly, but I really have to go. Text me, though!"

"Okay! I'll see you and Emma next weekend!"

Regan simultaneously disconnected the call and slowed her pace as she walked through the doors into the blessedly air-conditioned lobby.

She hadn't known what she'd been getting into yesterday when she'd agreed to make the desserts for Everly's birthday party with only a week of notice. All she'd known was that it did sound like a fun challenge and, mostly, she'd found that she didn't want to say no to Sherry.

She wanted Emma's grandmother to like her. To approve of her.

And she'd wanted Emma to feel proud about being with her, even if it wasn't real. To Emma's family, Regan was Emma's girlfriend. And Regan had realized yesterday just how seriously she'd taken that title on.

It made her feel good about herself to be able to jump in and help Emma's family in a crisis. It made her feel like these people – those who loved Emma and wanted the best for her – could think that Regan was that person.

It made her feel even better to know that Emma might think so, too. That she would think that Regan was dependable. Even if her baking wasn't a serious career, it was a skill Regan possessed, something she brought to the table that people could be impressed by.

And she wanted, she'd realized, for Emma to be impressed.

Regan – 11:01 AM

Off the phone with your mom. Apparently, Everly has a deep enjoyment of unicorns? First time making a unicorn cake, but I'm going to give it my all. Think I can manage it?

That was the other thing – she didn't need to text that bit of information to Emma. Emma didn't necessarily need to know it, but Regan wanted to tell her. She wanted to open a line of communication with Emma, like, all of the time.

Emma – 11:02 AM

Somehow, it really speaks of the perfect Regan vibe to me

Regan grinned at her phone, her stomach sparking with a pleased warmth at Emma's reply. And though she was itching to answer immediately, she realized she was only a few feet away from her sister.

Who was watching her expectantly.

Disappointed that her texting with Emma would have to be cut off for now, Regan reluctantly tucked her phone into her back pocket. It was all right, she reasoned with herself, because she would be able to see Emma at home, later.

Slowly, she approached the table. Only to pause as she went to pull out the chair opposite Audrey as she realized, "Um… why are there only two chairs at this table?" She pointed at Audrey, then to her own chair, then circled her index finger to gesture at the small table that was clearly only appointed for a pair.

"Because it's only you and I having brunch…?" Audrey responded as if Regan were being ridiculously obtuse.

"What do you mean, it's only you and I for brunch?" Regan asked, unable to connect whatever dots she was being presented with in a way that made sense.

"Exactly what I said." Audrey leaned back in her chair, folding her arms over her lap as she flicked her eyes down at the chair Regan was still clutching the back of. "Are you going to sit down or not?"

"I don't know." Regan glimpsed down at her empty chair as well, wondering if there was some joke being played on her. A whoopie cushion? No, Audrey would rather die than sit through that in a public place. A scorpion? No, there was no way Audrey could have made it stay still for so long. Besides, her sister's barbs were always more mental than physical.

Audrey sighed, a frown tugging at her mouth. "If you're going to be so ridiculous, then we can just go home and forget about this; you're already late, anyway."

"I'm not trying to be ridiculous!" Regan shot back before she plunked herself down in the chair. "And it's only by two freaking minutes."

She was giving up texting with Emma – being home with Emma! – for this. Whatever this was.

"I just don't understand–" She broke off, the dawning hitting her mid-sentence. "Oh. Is this you telling me that you don't want me to be in your wedding party anymore? You're doing it one-on-one instead of in front of your group of friends, but in a public place, so I can't make a scene?"

"I'm not sure I believe you wouldn't make a scene, first of all. Secondly, no . Why are you acting like two sisters having brunch together is the strangest thing to happen in your life?"

Regan stared at her sister, wondering if that was rhetorical. But when Audrey lifted an eyebrow at her, she realized she was actually waiting for an answer. "Because… it is?"

Before Audrey could respond, Regan shook her head. "We've never gone out to brunch together! Or any meal, for that matter. No breakfast, lunch, or dinner. Happy hour drinks. Not once in our adult lives, even though you've worked in the city I've lived in for four years, have you asked me to brunch. So, yeah, it's weird."

"You've never asked me, either," Audrey shot back, pursing her lips.

Regan felt like she was losing her actual freaking mind here!

"Look, I know I'm only in your wedding party at all because it would have looked bad, like we aren't some picture-perfect family, and Mom and Dad would have murdered you otherwise." She'd known it since she'd received the formal bridesmaid invitation at the beginning of the year. First, upon receipt, she'd been very confused before she'd put it all together. "You don't need to keep inviting me to these brunches or whatever. It's not like I'm going to tell on you or something."

Hell, even if Regan would tattle on Audrey to their parents, it's not like their parents had ever sided with Regan on anything.

She could see the way the muscle in Audrey's jaw tightened, and she fully expected the tell-off she was about to receive.

Only for Audrey to release a slow breath as she muttered, "Mom and Dad didn't make me ask you to be in my wedding."

Regan let out a disbelieving scoff. "Yeah, right ." That ugly feeling reared its head inside her, and she lifted her hand to pick lightly at the pristine tablecloth. "You've never actually wanted me around, Audrey. Not only is it stupid to pretend otherwise when it's just the two of us, but I don't want you to."

"You've never wanted to be around, Regan," Audrey's voice was low and tight. "Not me, anyway."

Regan whipped her gaze up to meet the burning look in her sister's. "What the hell are you talking about? You know how Mom and Dad treat me. You know they think I'm a total fuck-up." Regan knew her sister knew that because her parents had never been shy about saying it. Maybe not in those exact words, but Regan's earliest memories with her parents were of being scolded, reprimanded, lectured. For everything she did. "Even my ADHD is my own fault; I should have the internal fortitude to overcome such issues on my own, and shame on me for not being strong enough."

Actual words her parents had said to her more than once.

"I've never said that to you, have I?" Audrey challenged as she tilted her jaw up superiorly.

Regan was already opening her mouth to argue that fact as she sifted through as many memories as she could summon, and…

"Fine," she deflated slightly. "But you sat right there behind them, how many times? And you never stuck up for me. Not once ."

Maybe she couldn't recall Audrey verbally supporting their parents in their assessment of Regan, but she could easily picture the way Audrey would physically align herself with them. Glaring at Regan from behind their parents, as she received her dressing down. It was a very distinct line.

"What did you want me to say?" Audrey hissed. "Every time you were unhappy, you ran right off to be with Sutton and the Spencers ."

Sutton and the Spencers would be a great band name, Regan errantly thought, but didn't have the wherewithal to even joke about it. Not while her sister's eyes glittered with so much pure resentment, it slammed into Regan with a startling intensity.

"You were ensconced into their actual picture-perfect family, getting your hair braided by Katherine and going on family vacations with them. Parading around like you were one of their own fucking children." The unfettered emotion in Audrey's voice was something Regan had never heard before. Her sister's eyes glinted in anger, hurt, frustration, and… well, other emotions that Regan didn't know her sister well enough to name.

"I didn't have that; I had to stay at home with our parents, who took every single ounce of pressure that they couldn't put on you and added it to my back. Regan got a C in math, so Audrey better have an A+. Regan dropped out of college, so Audrey better be getting her Ivy League MBA after she graduates summa cum laude." She swigged viciously from her mimosa. "If we can't brag about Regan because she's a single barista, then we need to be able to brag doubly about Audrey – climbing the ladder at her company, getting married to the right person."

Regan could only stare, slightly shaking her head against everything she heard. She wanted to argue with her. She wanted to disagree, to tell Audrey that wasn't how this had all gone down.

But the thing was, even if that had been a side of their parents Regan hadn't personally experienced – given that they'd given up on her long before they'd gotten to that point – she knew very well that this was who they were .

And… it didn't feel good. She'd wondered, when she'd been younger and had felt so fucking terrible for being such a disappointment to her family, how good it would feel to be able to take Perfect Audrey down a peg.

Only, right now, as her sister's eyes filled with tears, Regan felt awful.

Like her entire worldview was turning on its head. She stared down at the immaculately set up table for several long seconds, trying to figure out how, exactly, she could reconcile this. How she could understand this – this shifted world order.

"I'm sorry," she found herself saying, eyebrows knitting together as she looked at Audrey.

And for the first time in literally forever, she felt like someone was staring back at her that she could potentially understand.

"I'm sorry that was your experience with them. I'm not okay with you taking it out on me," she was quick to add because years of their shitty relationship couldn't be undone by Regan understanding Audrey's perspective. But… it was a start, maybe. "I wish you'd said something about it before."

"You were too busy with Sutton ," Audrey muttered into her glass before taking another swig.

"Why do you have to say her name like that?" Regan demanded, not even able to summon the anger she typically felt. She just – she just wanted to understand, now.

"Because you were always so busy being her sister, you never cared about being mine!" The words burst from Audrey's mouth and seemed to startle them both.

At the very least, Regan knew she was startled. Baffled and shocked, she could only stare across the table for several long seconds before she found her ability to speak, "You didn't even want me to be your sister. When I became friends with Sutton, you used to talk about how you were thrilled that I wasn't following you around anymore."

Because that had been exactly what she'd done when they were little. Before their dad started working for Sutton's, they'd gone to a private school. Though Regan had transferred in the second grade, she hadn't had any friends there. Any friends. She'd been known as the weird girl since day one of kindergarten. Her only comfort at school was in her older sister, and Regan had followed her around like a lost puppy.

Audrey had hated it, complaining loudly and often about being unable to get rid of her.

"I was nine , of course I complained about you being my shadow! But I–" She broke off, staring at Regan with big, sad eyes, the heated fight in her fading. "I missed you when I didn't have you anymore. And I never got you back. You were barely ever home once you had Sutton in your life, and you were miserable the entire time you had to be in our house."

Regan nearly shot back can you blame me ? But the words didn't leave her throat. Because she saw, very clearly, that Audrey did understand. That maybe, despite Audrey being the perfect golden child, it hadn't been a label she'd worn in victory but in necessity.

"You know that time Dad's ties ended up being slashed up?" Regan asked, the memory popping up unbidden. "Like, all of them."

Audrey's expression was a picture-perfect blend of confusion and intrigue. Regan felt hesitant to get personal in any way… but she wanted to say this to her sister. She found, at this moment, she needed to say it.

Audrey slowly nodded. "Of course, he lost his mind. And no one could ever figure out where that stray cat had come from."

"That was me," she confessed. "I wanted to perform in the sixth-grade talent show as a magician, and I couldn't master that trick, where you pull all of the ties out of your sleeves. So, I got it in my head that if I cut them up, I could pull them out seamlessly. You know, if they were thinner and flimsier."

"Sure…" Audrey agreed, clearly placating her, but Regan would take it. She blinked several times. "But, Regan, there was a cat in the house."

"Well, obviously, the tie trick didn't work. And I panicked when I realized how badly his ties were messed up and that I was going to get in so much trouble. So, I snuck out after bedtime and brought the cat in–"

Audrey was shaking her head, ludicrous laughter spilling out of her mouth. "Where did you even find the cat? It had one eye."

"His name was Blackbeard, thank you very much. And he was mine; he lived in the shed in the back of the yard. Dad never got around to tearing down the one on the edge of the property after he got the new one built."

Her sister's laughter grew louder before she slapped a hand over her mouth to quiet down when she seemed to realize it. "So that's why you took it upon yourself to catch the cat. You know, I always thought it was weird that you took such a personal offense to Dad's tie collection being ruined."

Audrey studied her for a few moments, her eyebrows knitting together. "I think… it might be nice to get to know you."

Regan found herself studying her sister back. "I think that could be arranged."

Regan got home two hours later, collapsing onto the couch with a loud exhale as she dropped her forearm over her eyes, utterly exhausted.

Utterly exhausted, she still had to go into Topped Off for the night shift, given that two of her typical weekend staff were on vacation.

What a truly crazy, batshit brunch. What a worldview-altering morning. What –

"Hey," Emma's voice broke into her thoughts. "I didn't realize you were home."

Regan slid her arm away from her face to look up at Emma, who stood a few feet away from the couch in the kitchen doorway with an apple in her hand.

At the very sight of her, Regan felt something inside of her spark to life, and she didn't even realize she was smiling until she felt herself doing it. "Hey, yourself. I just got here."

Emma frowned as she studied where Regan was laying in repose. "Are you all right?"

Yeah, there it was. This swooping, pleasant feeling inside of her stomach that Emma not only cared if Regan was okay but she noticed – so easily – that something was off.

"I'm fine. I think." She was honestly going to need to take stock of everything with Audrey later. When she was alone. Which was what she always did, when it came to her family issues. After she had some time to think and settle with her feelings, she would download to Sutton.

It was the way she'd operated for a very long time.

Only, as she stared up at Emma, she found that the words were begging her to vocalize them. She found that she wanted to share what happened this morning – that she wanted to share it with Emma, in particular.

She wanted Emma to know. To know her . The things that made her who she was.

The realization was startling, especially because Regan hadn't ever discussed her issues with her family with someone who wasn't Sutton in… ever. Even in her sorta-kinda-relationships with the guys she'd dated, this was an unexplored topic. She hadn't wanted to divulge, and they'd never asked.

Trying to comb through how she felt about this turn of events, she slowly pushed herself to sit up.

"I, um, I had brunch with my sister, and it went really… unexpectedly." That seemed like the most fitting word.

"You have a sister?" Emma asked.

Regan laughed, ridiculously charmed by the baffled look on Emma's face, her eyebrows lifted so high on her forehead in consternation.

"I do. Audrey. Two years older than I am. Getting married soon. I'm one of her bridesmaids," she elaborated.

As she talked, Emma's mouth fell open in obvious bewilderment.

"How do I not know any of this?" Emma's voice was demanding. But not at Regan, she realized, as Emma drew a hand through her hair. Emma was clearly directing her ire inward. "I mean, we've known each other for years. We live together. And we've actively been hanging out for weeks now." Emma's lips pulled into a deep frown as those crystal-clear eyes slid back to Regan's. "I feel like I should know this about you by now."

Regan waved her hand. "It's not a big deal."

Emma scoffed. "It feels like one," she asserted, her voice so soft but so intent that it melted something inside Regan. Something soft and fluttery. "Also, you've literally met my whole family and know my entire life story. So, it seems crazy that I wouldn't know your basic family facts. Like that your sister exists and lives here in the city."

One side of Regan's mouth quirked into a small grin. "Let's just say: you're not the only one with a complicated relationship with your family."

"Regan, come on." Emma's insistence started blooming into this feeling inside of Regan. Something sweet, making her heart skip a beat.

"It's true," she insisted, unsure why Emma was so insistent that it wasn't.

It seemed as though Emma was able to read Regan's confusion as she gestured helplessly toward her. "I just… you seem so secure in yourself. In your place in the world. You come off as someone who had a very secure upbringing."

Regan chuckled darkly, both tickled by the idea and how absolutely incorrect it was. "Couldn't be more wrong, actually." She drew in a deep breath, her stomach fluttering with unexpected nerves. The nerves born from this desire to tell Emma more. "You know how you found it so strange that I moved here to be with Sutton?"

She could so easily recall how Emma stared at Regan like she was crazy for that.

Apparently, so could Emma. "Of course. You aren't the only one that remembers things about the other."

To Regan's delight, Emma walked closer to sit on the couch with her. Quickly, Regan pulled her legs up from where they'd been sprawled over the cushions. She sat cross-legged, facing Emma, who mirrored her.

As they sat facing one another on their couch, Regan was able to inhale Emma's subtle but enticing scent… and totally lost her train of thought. All she could really think about at that moment was how much she enjoyed it. This closeness. They shared the same physical space when watching a television show or eating dinner together, but this felt very different where they were each other's point of focus.

She liked it.

"Is there more?" Emma asked several beats later, hesitantly. "I mean, you don't have to share."

Right. Regan blinked, realizing she'd forgotten why Emma was sitting so close to her, staring intently into her eyes.

"No, I want to tell you." God, it was so weird because she really did.

She fiddled with the edges of the throw blanket over the back of the couch, trying to figure out how to explain herself to Emma. Explaining her family and her life in a way she hoped made sense.

"Growing up, Audrey and I couldn't have been more… different." She settled on, smiling mirthlessly at how very true that was. "She was the golden child, and I was the fuck up."

Flicking her gaze to Emma, Regan's nerves momentarily spiked. They were in a good place, the two of them. A really, really good place, the best place. A place Regan was finding herself increasingly addicted to spending time in.

But as she so vividly recalled Emma's feelings about her prior to this good place they were in, she realized – she was a little worried that Emma knowing what her family thought of her might remind Emma that she'd once felt the same thing. Not too long ago, either.

Regan didn't know what that would do to these emerging feelings she had for Emma, but she knew that the very thought of Emma thinking poorly of her made her stomach clench tight enough to make her feel sick.

There was no trace of judgment on Emma's face, though. No look that said, ah, yeah, I totally get why your family thought you were a loser . There was curiosity there. A quiet sympathy, even.

It bolstered her to keep going. To think… maybe Emma really would get her.

"You thought I was crazy to move here because you see Sutton as my best friend. And she is , but… for most of my life, she's also been my family ." Regan searched Emma's gaze with her own, hoping she could see how strongly Regan meant that. "After high school, when she came to New York, I stayed back and went to Brandeis. Because it was what my parents wanted, and… there was still a part of me that wanted them to think I wasn't a total waste of space. A little piece of me that wanted them to see that – I wasn't their screw-up kid. That I could be successful, or something. I don't really know."

She shrugged, clearing her throat as she looked back at the blanket. Even though she didn't feel that way anymore – at least, not so acutely and much more infrequently – she remembered very vividly what it had been like. Just wanting to do one thing right in the eyes of her parents.

"And that's the normal thing, right? You finish high school, and you go to college. You say goodbye to seeing your best friend all of the time because they are on a different path in life. It seems like everyone else can do it. Go to school, slog through a degree even if you don't love it. Accept that the closeness you share with your high school best friend isn't going to be forever. But…"

She dug her teeth into her lip, her insides churning as she could so clearly recall how that year had felt, even if it had been eight years ago now.

"It sucked." She summarized, simply. "It sucked so, so much. And not just in an I miss my friend way. But in a…"

She paused, the words catching in her throat as she lifted her eyes to Emma's, who was watching her with such a close, intent focus.

Suddenly sheepish, Regan dropped her hands to her knees, gripping them tightly. "You're going to think it's stupid."

"Okay, maybe, but when has that ever stopped you before?" Emma teased, but her voice was gently coaxing.

A nervous titter escaped her. "True."

The difference was that Regan rarely got in her own head, worried that she would sound silly. In fact, she was all too willing to fall on her sword and play the fool – play into what people so often thought of her – in order to direct a situation to an easy resolve.

Only she didn't want that with Emma. She didn't want Emma to think of her as silly or as a fool in any way. She wanted – badly – to keep the respect she'd started earning in Emma's eyes.

But she only wanted it if Emma really meant it.

So, she continued. "I missed Sutton in a way that – everything felt wrong. Like, there was one person in my entire life that didn't think that I was too much or… or not enough, or both at the same time." She rolled her lips, eyebrows furrowing as that unpleasant feeling burrowed into her stomach. "My parents feel that way about me. And I always thought my sister did, too. It wasn't even something I inferred, you know? Like, it was the truth."

She slid a look toward Emma. "That's why I felt kind of sensitive to you thinking the same way." Her voice fell quiet, that last part leaving her lips unexpectedly. She bit her cheek because she hadn't meant to say that part.

Quickly, she shook her head and pushed on. "Not a big deal. Anyway… I did have other friends back home. People I could hang out with sometimes, or whatever. But it wasn't the same thing. Like I wasn't home with them." Regan shrugged heavily, dropping her hands into her lap, away from the blanket. "I was going to a college I didn't even deserve to go to – my grades weren't that great," she admitted, scoffing out a laugh. "Your irritation at the idea of me and my familial privilege was definitely right about that."

"And my undiagnosed ADHD was a total bitch. All the while, I was pursuing a major that I didn't understand and didn't want to follow – my parents were paying for me to get a business degree. Something useful ," she parroted their choice phrase. "And I was surrounded by people that didn't understand me. Because that is what you're supposed to do after high school."

Regan straightened her spine, taking a deep breath. "I didn't follow Sutton here just because living with my best friend in New York would be super fucking awesome." She gave an amused look to Emma. "Following your best friend here is weird and not what you're supposed to do; I get that."

Emma didn't mirror her amusement. Instead, she looked at Regan with wide, insightful, sharp eyes, looking undeniably guilty.

But Regan didn't want Emma to feel guilty about her past judgments, and she really didn't.

She dropped her hand down to rest over Emma's, subconsciously stroking her thumb over it, wanting to soothe it away. "I followed Sutton here because I hated every second of my life back home. I was lonely and miserable, and I felt stupid all of the time. Even though I was living with my family, I'd never felt more alone in my entire life."

"So, even though it wasn't what my parents approved of – like, they really did not – I decided that I had to do what would make me happy. Since when had I ever made my family happy or proud, anyway?" A self-deprecating smile playing on her lips, only a hint of an old bitterness burning the back of her throat.

But that had been her big turning point. The moment that she'd really decided for herself what her life was going to be.

"This is my life, not theirs. And I'm going to live it for me. So… yeah. I'm managing a coffee shop and don't have glamorous plans or huge ambitions. But I like my life." She nodded as she spoke, affirming her own words. Feeling them settle inside of her in the right place.

"You don't have to prove that to me," Emma spoke for the first time in what felt like forever, her voice firm, as she searched Regan's gaze with her own. "I know we had a rocky couple of years." Her lips pulled into a smile, quick and sharp and captivating. "But things are different now. The way I see you is different now," she softly amended.

Regan's smile froze on her face as her heart skipped a beat. Skipped several beats, actually. Was this what swooning felt like?

She'd been having that thought with increasing frequency when it came to Emma. Yesterday, when Emma stopped on the way to her gram and told Regan, so sincerely, that she thought Regan was funny, loyal, kind, and smart, her knees went weak. And then, when Emma's gram had told Regan that Emma had a crush on her…

Even now, the memory of it stole Regan's breath, making butterflies erupt in her stomach.

"What happened with your sister today?" Emma questioned, tilting her head to the side. "If it's okay to ask."

"Um." Regan shook her head, trying – very, very hard – not to get too swept up in those thoughts. After all, Emma had denied having a crush ; only insisting that she'd found Regan attractive. Still.

Finally, she re-focused her attention on their actual conversation. "It's definitely okay to ask."

Especially because Emma wouldn't have asked if she hadn't invested in Regan. Miss Privacy Please would never ask… if she didn't really want to know.

And an electric thrill shot through her at the fact that Emma wanted to know more about her.

"It was just – it was weird," she mused. "My sister lives in Stamford with her fiancé. And we don't have a relationship, not really. Which is why you've never heard me talk much about her. But… I don't know." She dropped her gaze down to where she realized her hand was still on Emma's.

Transfixed, she watched her fingers softly stroke the back of Emma's hand. Then watched in fascination as the hair on Emma's arms stood up.

"I, uh, I just… I've always thought one certain way about my sister. Thought she was very similar to my parents. But it turns out that I might be wrong. She invited me to brunch today just because she wanted to talk. Just us, together." Regan could still hear her own shock in her voice.

"Did brunch go well?" Emma asked hesitantly. Those crystal-clear eyes stayed trained on Regan's face, watching for any sign of upset Regan might express.

"It did." Yeah, she was still shocked. "I think so, anyway. I think maybe we're both kind of learning about each other."

"I'm not surprised that your sister might be starting to see you in a different light," Emma asserted, her tone so confident. "You have a lot of surprising sides to you."

Oh, no.

Oh, yes.

Regan didn't know which one to think of properly; all she knew was that she could feel the same feeling as yesterday. The one where Emma said something and made Regan feel so swept up.

"And I'm glad that your brunch sounded like it went well; if you were feeling down, I was about to offer to sing karaoke with you," Emma informed her, the slightest, cutest smile quirking at her lips.

The mirroring smile that had been sliding onto Regan's lips froze. Completely froze in place as she stared wide-eyed at Emma. " Really ? Can I take it back? It went terribly. Horribly. Awfully."

Emma scoffed out a laugh. "Yes, really . There were going to be stipulations, of course. It was only going to be karaoke here at home, first of all. I'm not going anywhere in public and singing."

"Secondly?" Regan pressed eagerly.

God, she felt – enamored? Was this what that feeling was?

This feeling of her stomach swooping low, making her feel impossibly light, at the sight of Emma's adorable smile. At the fact that Emma was going to offer to sing karaoke with her to cheer her up, something Emma would never typically choose to do?

"Technically, there's no different second reason; it was a double-down on the first rule."

Regan's heart pounded in her chest so hard she could hear it in her ears. The butterflies in her stomach demanded to be felt , growing by the second.

"It may come as a surprise to you, but I know my way around a 3G song," Emma's tone was both haughty and playful as she tossed her hair over her shoulder.

"I love 3G," Regan breathed, almost lightheaded with this headiness. "How did you know that?"

Emma's eyebrows knitted together incredulously. "Regan, you sing all of the time around here. It's not difficult to pick up on your favorite artists."

Emma was hardly done speaking when Regan found herself pushing forward, drawn in as if magnetized.

She used the hold she still had on Emma's hand to balance herself, squeezing it as she brushed her lips against Emma's.

Regan had never kissed another woman before. It hadn't ever been something she'd really thought much about. But, god , maybe she should have.

She sighed against Emma's lips; they were so unbelievably soft. So full. So plush against Regan's own, she gently slid her mouth against Emma's, letting herself revel in that feeling.

Her own slight movements made heat spark through her body. A heat that cranked up when she felt Emma move her lips against hers, opening on a sharp, gasping inhale.

Oh , yes. She absolutely should have been doing this before now, Regan dimly registered, rocking forward more firmly, wanting – needing – to get closer. To be able to feel Emma's body – this body that had taken hold in Regan's mind as the root of so many fantasies lately – against her own in any way.

She felt Emma's hand land on her shoulder as she pressed her lips to Emma's again, deliberately slotting Emma's bottom lip between her own.

She'd had so many thoughts about this mouth in the last few weeks. So, so many. Whenever Emma laughed, pursed her lips, or bit down in thought, Regan wondered.

And now, right in this moment, she knew. Now, she knew, and she would never un-know this sensation. She knew that in her very bones.

Emma breathed a shaky exhale against her lips, her firm hand on Regan's shoulder flexing. Taking a fistful of Regan's shirt, the grip pulling Regan inches closer.

Inches that Regan was happy to give. She'd be happy to give up all of the space; in fact, she'd be ecstatic to crawl right there into Emma's lap. To press herself into Emma, to immerse herself in her.

Before she could do it, though, the hand Emma had on her shoulder stopped pulling her in.

Rather, it pushed her back.

Regan moved with the motion, her lips breaking away from Emma's. As soon as the contact was broken, she could hear the disappointed whimper that escaped the back of her throat.

For just a second, she stayed in that in-between space, keeping her eyes closed as her lips tingled and her blood thrummed through her veins. She'd kissed Emma. She'd kissed Emma, and she'd really, really liked it.

A pleasant warmth followed quickly on the heels of that heated desire, her lips curling into a small smile.

"What was that ?" Emma breathed. The hand she had still clutching Regan's shirt tightened even more against Regan's shoulder.

Finally, she opened her eyes to look at Emma. Who was staring at her with wide-eyed surprise, her lips pink and moist and – wow . Yes, Regan had become aware of her attraction to Emma, but when her mouth looked like that, all plump and freshly kissed by her, she felt herself throb.

"It was a kiss," she whispered back, heart still pounding in her chest.

"I know it was a kiss," Emma hissed, shaking her head vehemently. "But – but why ?"

Regan could say that she didn't know what possessed her to do it, but it would be a lie.

She did it because this attraction she felt for Emma refused to let up intensity; if anything, Regan felt like its hold on her only got stronger.

She did it because Emma was attracted to her, too.

She did it because it felt good being Emma's girlfriend. Even if it wasn't totally real, it felt good.

She did it because she'd wanted to share herself with Emma, and Emma had wanted to listen.

She did it because Emma would sing 3G with her to make her feel better after a hard day.

And, mostly, she did it because she wanted to. She really wanted to.

She still wanted to. Right now, all over again. In fact, as she traced her tongue over her own bottom lip and tasted the remnants of Emma's chapstick, she wanted to do it again very, very badly.

Slowly, she slid her gaze back up Emma's face to meet her eyes, a sheepish smile playing on her lips. "Um… so here's the thing–"

Abruptly, Emma released her grip on Regan's shirt, as if only realizing in that moment that she'd been holding onto her. She quickly pushed herself up from the couch, her movements awkward and stilted, as if she couldn't quite catch her bearings.

"Actually, I don't want to know," she quickly said, holding up her hand. A hand that was shaking, Regan noticed.

"I don't want to know anything. I don't want you to say anything. I don't want to talk about it. This never happened."

Emma raised her hands and scrubbed them over her face, looking dazed. Well, more aptly, looking like she wished she could wipe that dazed feeling away.

"Emma–" she tried to start again, moving to stand up herself.

She was stopped as Emma reached out and lightly pushed her back down. "No. You – you stay. Right there."

Regan slowly settled back onto the couch, tilting her head up at Emma, amusement mixing with confusion. "How long do I have to stay here?"

"Until I leave," Emma countered firmly. "I'm leaving."

Deflating – it was jarring, this intense come-down after such a ground-shaking kiss – Regan dropped her hands listlessly to the couch cushions next to her. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going… to see my gram. That's where I'm going. And when I come home – things are going to be normal," Emma insisted, slowly backing away from Regan. As if she was worried that Regan would pounce on her or something.

In fairness, Regan could admit that she'd felt very close to pouncing on Emma only minutes ago.

"Emma–" She tried again, feeling the desperate need to at least try to explain herself.

She realized she had no idea what possible explanation she could offer that would make Emma feel better. Which kind of made having a conversation moot.

" Normal ," Emma repeated darkly before she turned on her heel and hurriedly walked away. She walked out of the living room, down the hall, pausing for only a few seconds – presumably grabbing her keys and wallet from the entryway table, and a pair of sandals from the shoe rack – before the front door opened and closed.

Regan fell back against the couch, staring up at the ceiling. "Idiot," she whispered derisively at herself. "What is wrong with you?"

She'd finally – finally – found this footing with Emma. And then, in a moment of action-first thoughts-later, she'd ruined it. Typical Regan.

God, she really hoped she hadn't ruined everything , hoped all of this progress they'd made as friends and roommates wasn't completely flushed down the drain over one simple kiss.

One simple kiss…

She reached her hand up, lightly brushing her fingertips over her lips. One simple kiss that had totally rocked her world. One simple kiss that left Regan aching for more. One simple kiss that left her feeling far more than any other kiss she'd ever experienced.

Oh, boy.