Chapter 16

sixteen

Emma's hand was still trembling slightly as she determinedly shut the apartment door behind her.

She only got a few steps away, though, before the steam that had been fueling her started to dissipate. Whatever post-kiss fueled energy that had sparked through her – or maybe it was energy sparked from that kiss? – zapped out of her, leaving her standing in the hallway a few feet away from the elevator.

But she couldn't force her feet to move any farther.

No, she felt like she was stuck here, in this spot, as her mind and body reeled from what had just happened.

Regan had kissed her.

There had been no mistaking it, no way to brush it off as some sort of insane accident. Emma's mind had already tried that in the last five minutes. But no. Regan had gripped Emma's hand, taken a deep breath, and closed the gap between them on the couch. There was intent.

Her hand still tingled where Regan had held it, a physical reminder for Emma. As if she needed it when she could still very much feel the phantom sensation of Regan's lips on hers. Those plush lips that had caught Emma's attention so many times before – she didn't need to harbor a crush on Regan to think that her mouth was incredibly sexy – had just been against Emma's own.

Unthinkingly, she lifted her hand to her chest, where her heart was still beating too fast to be normal. Her heart rate had gone through the roof when Regan's mouth had met hers, and it still hadn't slowed completely down. Much like the fluttering sensation in her stomach hadn't quite stopped.

It wasn't a feeling Emma was familiar with. Had this happened with Felicity? With the few other people she'd kissed before? Probably , she told herself, even though she couldn't quite recall it. Which, she decided, made sense. Of course, her memories of past kisses were a little hazy right now, in the immediate aftermath of what was absolutely the most shocking kiss of her life.

But now that she had some space and wasn't surrounded by Regan's scent, now that Regan wasn't looking at her with big, dark eyes, and Emma couldn't get tripped up by the way Regan's lips looked all freshly kissed – slightly bruised, entirely too appealing – Emma was able to grasp onto some clarity.

Only, clarity wasn't quite so clear.

Because she just… she couldn't understand. She didn't understand.

As she stood in the hallway, staring at the elevators but unable to bring herself to continue walking toward them, Emma tried desperately to make sense of what transpired.

She'd walked into the living room, not expecting to see Regan home. She'd gone out this morning while Emma had been in the shower, and Emma… well, she'd been a little disappointed. Because Regan's schedule informed Emma that Regan wasn't going to the café until this evening.

She'd been hoping they'd be able to finish the season of The One they'd been bingeing, honestly. But she'd known the minute she opened the bathroom door that Regan wasn't home; the apartment had been dead silent.

Which – was totally fine, Emma had reasoned with herself. Because she had a ton of stuff she could do. She could answer work emails, read, and work on her latest book review. All valuable uses of her time.

And yet, she'd felt an undeniable zap of excitement when she'd seen Regan lying on the couch after having quietly returned home. Wow, Emma couldn't believe that it had only been thirty minutes ago; it felt like a lifetime.

Her excitement had dwindled when she'd gotten a good look at Regan. When she'd been able to see the look in Regan's eyes. And she'd realized that she'd missed Regan's usual verve, that glint of life that made Regan feel so full of vitality.

Then, Regan shared her vulnerabilities with Emma and told Emma the parts of her life that she didn't share with many people. Regan hadn't explicitly said as much, but Emma could tell.

She'd opened up to Emma, and Emma… she'd felt close to Regan. For the first time, she felt like she truly understood who Regan was, and why.

Yes, they'd become closer. Yes, she cared about Regan. But hearing Regan tell her about her past made something click into place inside of her.

She'd felt this need to be there for Regan. To support her. And not because Regan had supported her for the last month through all of Emma's family issues, but – because she cared . More than she'd expected to, honestly. Because she'd hated seeing that sad, dejected look in Regan's big, dark eyes, and it had twisted Emma up inside.

To the point that she'd been very seriously going to offer to sing karaoke! Emma did not sing in front of other people. Not sober, anyway.

For some reason Emma couldn't wrap her mind around, that was the moment had Regan had kissed her.

Like, what?!

Latching onto that confusion, using it to energize her and to help her push through post-kiss haziness, Emma turned sharply on her heel and marched back toward their apartment.

No, she wasn't going to get caught up in the kiss or how it seemed to have left a lasting imprint on her mouth. No, she wasn't going to ruminate on how her blood seemed to race hotter through her veins.

Because that wasn't what was important here, Emma wouldn't let it be.

She tossed the door closed behind her, storming down the short hallway until she stood right back in the living room. "What the hell was that?"

Emma was only slightly surprised by the fact that Regan was still sitting exactly where Emma had left her on the couch a few minutes ago. Regan was typically so full of life and movement, she didn't sit still for long.

Regan snapped her gaze to Emma, her dark eyes wide and startled. "What are you doing here?"

"I live here," Emma reminded her, hands falling to her hips as she stared Regan down. "I live here, which means that I can't do what I would normally do when someone kisses me completely out of the blue."

"What would you normally do?" Regan cocked her head, sounding entirely too interested in something totally irrelevant.

"I don't know! Because it's never happened before." She'd probably need to take some time to figure out her thoughts. To read into her feelings. To feel whether the kiss felt warranted, whether she'd liked it or not. If she'd want to do it again. But – "And that doesn't matter. Because the point , Regan, the point is that no matter what, I can't do that with you. Because I live here ," she gestured around their apartment.

Taking a deep breath, she tried to center herself. She tried very, very valiantly not to dip her gaze down to Regan's mouth. The mouth that had been on hers only minutes ago causing all of these unexpected, overwhelming feelings coursing through her.

Clamping her hands down on her hips, she repeated her question again. This time, calmer. "Why did you kiss me?"

She needed to know; Emma needed to make sense of this so that she could dismiss it.

Regan blinked up at her. "I thought you didn't want to know?"

Emma could hardly remember saying those words. She'd been too caught up in her thoughts, in the way she could barely catch her breath and how Regan had been looking at her.

"Well, I realized that I need to know. Okay? Just… I don't get it," she confessed, feeling on the edge of desperation.

"Uh… so what answer will make you freak out the least?" Regan asked, sounding like she was teasing, but there was a tone of seriousness underneath.

Emma's lips uncontrollably tugged up into the briefest of grins before she smothered it. This was not the time for laughter. "The truth."

After all, she reasoned, this could be something… simple. Emma had no idea what kind of misunderstanding, but it could be a misunderstanding nonetheless.

"The truth," Regan quietly echoed, biting her plush bottom lip. "Well, okay. The truth," she murmured again, interlocking her long, nimble fingers and wrapping her arms around her legs.

Emma couldn't help but be amused, staring at Regan as she waited for a response.

Finally, Regan seemed to come to some sort of peace with herself as she turned her attention – direct and intent – toward Emma. She couldn't make sense of the look in them. Heated but hesitant?

"The truth is, Emma, that I kissed you because I find you really attractive."

It made no sense for her to feel totally fucking shocked, Emma knew, because Regan had literally just kissed her. But she was . Surprise rushed through her, and she shook her head. "Wait – what? You what ?"

Regan nodded, with no hesitation this time. "I'm attracted to you."

Emma's cheeks flashed with heat as her heart started to thrum in her chest. "Since when? How do you know? I thought you were – you aren't into women?"

She meant to assert that as a fact, a statement, but it came out far more uncertain. Understandably, in her opinion.

While Emma felt struck, frozen, and rooted in place at this revelation, saying the words seemed to bring Regan back to life.

She nodded quickly, snapping her fingers in Emma's direction. "See, that's what I thought, too! But it turns out I kind of am?" She slowly arched her eyebrows, a self-deprecating smile working over her face. "I realized it a few weeks ago after dinner with Kimberly. You know, when I fell off the chair?"

Emma nodded, but it felt surreal. Everything felt surreal.

"It's because I realized I was checking you out. Like really checking you out," Regan's tone dipped into an octave Emma had never heard from her. Something edging on raspy, and it made her shiver.

Between the tone and how Regan looked at her, Emma's stomach clenched in wanting an answer.

No.

"I think I've probably been attracted to you longer than I realized," Regan continued, entirely unashamed. As she spoke, she pushed herself up from the couch, seeming filled with too much energy to stay seated anymore.

Emma subconsciously took a step backward.

"I just – god , you have amazing breasts. I remember thinking that the first time we met. So, maybe that was a moment, but I didn't realize it. I don't know." Regan shrugged, looking at Emma, so full of wonder. "All I do know is that ever since I realized I can't stop thinking about it. About you. Like that."

"Is that all?" She asked faintly. But she thought that was justified when Regan was standing in front of her, talking about how much she loved Emma's breasts!

Regan just stood there across the room, seeming totally normal. Sure, her cheeks were flushed, and her gaze was a little too intently focused on Emma, but she didn't seem like her reality was about to crack wide open and spill out at the edges.

"I think about your breasts and your thighs and your lips all of the time."

Emma's mouth fell open with a sharp inhale. She didn't even realize she was sliding her hands, one to rest over her stomach to quell the strange butterflies there, the other moving up to card through her hair and press down against her skull, as if she could physically stop her thoughts from racing.

What was Regan doing to her?

"Which isn't abnormal for me lately. But then, just a little while ago," Regan gestured behind her toward the couch. As if Emma could misunderstand what she was referencing. "You were just – you were so sweet to me. And I… I felt good telling you everything about my family. And you looked at me like you really got it. Got me ."

Regan blew out a deep sigh, turning her gaze back on Emma's, as she expectantly said, "So – that's why."

Emma could only blink back in confusion. Why… what?

"Why I kissed you," Regan elaborated, taking a tentative step closer to Emma.

Had she spoken aloud, or was Regan really able to read her that well by now?

For some reason, that thought snapped Emma out of this surreal haze and sharply back into reality.

"Emma?" Regan softly voiced her name, taking another step forward when Emma didn't respond.

"Stop," she cautioned, holding her hand up between them. The last thing she needed was to feel engulfed by Regan's scent right now. "Just – hold on."

Regan froze where she stood.

The hand Emma still had clasped to her head slowly moved until she was rubbing at her forehead. Trying to organize her thoughts, sort out everything whirling inside her.

The only thing she knew for sure was, "Regan, we can't do that again."

Regan's eyebrows knit together, her lips pursing in a cute little pout.

And, despite everything , Emma couldn't help the exasperated laugh that escaped her lips. "Are you really surprised by me saying that?" Emma gestured to herself. "What about me suggests to you that I would really love for my world to be thrown into chaos?"

She realized her mistake too late, as Regan's eyes followed Emma's gesture, looking her up and down with that – that glint . Emma's throat ran dry.

Which, no. Not happening.

Coughing, Emma pointedly drew Regan's gaze back to her own. Regan, unsurprisingly, smiled at her with zero concern at having been caught blatantly checking her out.

"Okay, being attracted to women is – it's great. I'm happy for you." Was she?!

"So far, it's just woman ," Regan corrected.

Emma felt that heat spark through her again, even as she took another step back. This time, that step put her back right against the brick wall of the living room. "Uh. Okay. That's – be that as it may," oh, god , she had to clear her throat a second time! "We really can't kiss again. I'm sure you've been attracted to a ton of men before and not kissed them."

Finally, Emma felt like she had her thoughts in order enough to make a salient point!

Regan hummed before nodding. "Yes. You're right."

"Great. So, that's what this is. It's not like you're in love with me or anything, so–" Emma's eyes widened as soon as she spoke the words, and her stomach didn't flutter this time; it tightened into knots.

The very idea of romantic love hadn't crossed Emma's mind in any sort of real way since Felicity had broken up with her over two years ago, and the last thing she'd ever expected was for it to be Regan Gallagher that made that thought surface.

Relief pounded through her when Regan let out a hearty laugh. "No, I'm not in love with you," she conceded, her voice falling to a softer, sweeter tone. "For a second, I considered joking about it. But the look on your face makes me think you'd pass out if I did."

Emma slid her palm down her face. "Yeah, I might have."

Still leaning back against the wall, Emma felt herself truly breathing for the first time in what felt like forever, even if it had only been the past hour.

"More than anything, Regan, I like what we are. I like what we've figured out here in the last month. I like that we've finally reached this place in our relationship. Where we can trust each other and actually talk to each other. Where we like each other – er, spending time together," she quickly corrected, feeling herself blush.

Still, she maintained eye contact with Regan, wanting her to see how much Emma meant this.

"We're both roommates and friends, and doing anything to jeopardize that isn't in the cards," she stated firmly. And she felt good about it. "We kissed because you're attracted to me, and I'm the first woman you're experiencing attraction to. It doesn't have to become this big thing , and I don't want it to. I want to watch The One with you and have dinner together and text you throughout the day without it being weird."

Emma honestly hadn't realized how much she'd come to enjoy those things that had all become regular occurrences for them until this moment. Until the idea that they might go back to not being in a good enough place to do those things struck her and made her stomach twist.

She didn't have many people in her life like Regan; she didn't even know anyone like Regan. Yes, she had a friendship with Sutton and a sort of friendship with Brynn, but Regan – by virtue of both who she was as a person and the situation they'd found themselves in – was… different. Somehow, she was closer to Regan than anyone else who had come into her life in a long time.

Regan held onto Emma's words for several beats before she finally nodded. "Yeah. I mean, I don't want to lose those things, either. If you recall, I was the one that pushed for them in the first place."

An annoyingly attractive cheeky smile slid over Regan's face, and with it, a calming feeling flooded through Emma.

The kiss and all of the big, bright, tumultuous feelings it had alit in Emma fell into the background, allowing her to take a real deep breath for the first time since the kiss had been placed on her lips.

"Great. So… things are fine, then. Between us," she pushed to solidify. Needing to make sure she and Regan were both on the same page about this.

Regan rocked back and forth on her feet. "Yep. Absolutely fine."

Even though things were clearly fine , Emma remained where she stood. Her back against the wall, her knees still weak, and her lips tingling from Regan's kiss.

Which had to go away soon, right?

"Well," Regan clapped her hands in front of her, startlingly loud. "Since things are so fine , let's do something normal. We only had a few episodes left in season three of The One , right? We probably have enough time to finish it before I have to go to work."

Regan dipped her gaze down at her wrist, where she was not wearing a watch.

Emma's lips pulled into a hesitant smile as she skeptically acquiesced, "Yeah, I guess we do."

Turning on her heel, Regan walked back to the couch and dropped to the spot she'd been sitting in earlier. The sight gave Emma pause.

Was this a good idea? Emma could really go for some processing time right now, but if she did that, it would mean she was admitting that she wasn't feeling totally fine and normal about this.

Regan looked at her with an innocuous smile as she patted the cushion next to her. "Come on, Emma. I'm not going to jump you. Promise."

"We'll see," Emma muttered, pushing off the wall and walking toward the couch.

The only way this would start to feel normal again was if they made it normal. They were both adults. It was one kiss that hadn't even involved tongue.

Emma let out a breath she hadn't even realized she'd been holding as Regan didn't scooch in closer to her. Yes, Regan often sat close enough to Emma's side that they were touching, and Emma had come to expect it. To enjoy it, even – which was a startling realization to have in this moment. But it was true. When they weren't watching TV, Regan still sat that close because she loved to slide her phone screen in Emma's direction whenever she came across an amusing video or meme. To Regan's credit, Emma really did find herself amused by whatever content Regan curated for her.

Right now, though, she was glad Regan was able to read the room – read Emma – and maintain some distance.

Regan merely curled up against the arm of the couch and reached for the remote, navigating through the streaming apps before putting on an episode of irritatingly addictive reality television.

Emma took a slow, deep breath and held it for a few seconds… before measuredly letting it out. And with it came some of her tension. There.

As the drama unfolded on the screen, Emma's shoulders relaxed even more. These people, going on a reality dating show, had real romantic drama to deal with. Emma just had one kiss with Regan.

She only just started to find some semblance of true calm fifteen minutes into the episode – sure, she was hyper-aware of Regan, but that was to be expected right about now – when Regan ruined it.

"You know, it actually feels really good to let that all out," she commented, her tone thoughtful, immediately pulling Emma's entire attention from the TV. "I've been holding onto it so tightly for the last couple of weeks. Literally falling over myself because I didn't know what to do about this attraction. But now, I can just be toootally normal."

Emma's blood rushed through her ears as she stared agape at Regan, who was splayed out over the couch, looking so relaxed. Pensive but relaxed, with one arm curled behind her head, making her shirt ride up over her smooth, pale stomach and her other hand resting on her revealed skin.

Jesus . Emma snapped her eyes closed.

Even so, all she could see with her eyes closed was still – damningly – Regan . Her mind replayed the images of Regan falling over herself, and she snapped her eyes open with a gasp as surprise rushed through her. "That was all because you were attracted to me?"

Regan falling over her feet, dumping the coffee over herself… good god!

Emma did not appreciate the feeling that slithered through the pit of her stomach. This feeling of being pleased . Flattered. Amazed. It was a resoundingly positive, heated feeling, and she clenched her jaw, doing her best to stifle it.

Regan nudged Emma lightly in the thigh with her socked foot. "Duh."

Dumbfounded, Emma turned blankly back toward the TV and tried to filter that information into the neatly organized sections of her brain.

Only for Regan to throw her for another loop, as she poked Emma with her toe again and asked, "Does it at least feel nice to know? That I'm so attracted to you?"

Why? Why was Regan like this? Just as Emma thought she would move beyond this kiss fiasco as seamlessly as possible, Regan had to do this . Had to make Emma think about it, to think about Regan's attraction and – ugh!

She wanted to retort that, no , it didn't feel good. In fact, she opened her mouth to tell Regan as much.

Damnably, though, she also couldn't deny that feeling that was still demanding to be felt because that was precisely what it was. It felt terrifyingly, disarmingly good.

Underneath the panic from the kiss and the fear that this would throw Emma's newly settled life into chaos, it made her feel ridiculously satisfied. Not as in a job well done kind of satisfaction, but something heady and wanting.

Bad. Bad train of thought.

"It felt great for me, if you can imagine when Gram spilled the beans you were attracted to me," Regan continued, seemingly unbothered by how this afternoon was unraveling.

Still, Emma couldn't help but admire Regan's ability to talk through any potential weirdness, speak her mind, and vocalize her feelings like this.

But, for her own sanity, Emma needed to cut this off at the knees.

She kept her tone as sharp and factual as she could. "Yes, it's nice to know."

Oh, you helped Regan figure out her sexuality, and she's really attracted to you – that's nice to know!

A peel of amused laughter escaped Regan. "It's nice to know," she parroted, poorly mimicking Emma as she unthinkingly tapped on Emma's thigh in some sort of silent rhythm that only Regan could hear.

"I'm sticking with it." Emma cut a look to Regan, entirely unsurprised by the wide, bright smile on her face.

"I would expect nothing less from you."

"No more questions, okay? I don't want to miss Chelsea picking Samantha."

With that, Emma resolutely turned back to face the TV, shaking her head. Bafflingly, Regan's teasing was what made Emma feel any semblance of normal. Which was so messed up.

And so irritatingly, charmingly, Regan.