Chapter 18

eighteen

"… Emma? Hello? Em?"

Emma snapped her gaze to her gram, who was waving a hand in front of her face, a blush already creeping up her cheeks. "What? What did you say? I'm sorry."

Gram arched a look at her, filled with undeniable amusement. "I said that I'm really proud of you for coming here today. I know it isn't always easy, being around your mother."

"It's… not," she admitted, though her gram already knew. "But today isn't so bad. Granted, we've only been here for thirty minutes."

On the other hand, she'd been at Kimberly's house now for thirty minutes, and her stomach wasn't cramping to the point where she felt sick. In fact, Emma hadn't experienced much anxiety at all – which was highly unusual. And all because her focus was locked on something – someone – else.

Unthinkingly, her gaze slid back across Kimberly's expansive backyard. The birthday party was in full swing – every table was decorated, along with the streamers and banners and fairy lights. There were unicorn likenesses everywhere, including several giant floats in the pool that Everly and her friends had been jumping on under the watchful eye of a lifeguard that had been hired for the day.

Emma had led her gram to one of the shaded patio tables as soon as they'd arrived. Her focus, however, had been fixed on one particular person located across the yard.

Regan had really come through with the baked goods for the party. She'd made three different flavors of cookies – all customized with sparkles and sprinkles to fit the theme – as well as immaculately decorated unicorn cake pops. The cake itself had been carried in by Ted, and Emma knew from pictures that Regan had sent her yesterday that it looked amazing.

Currently, Regan was chatting animatedly with a small group of parents that had flocked to her as soon as she'd started setting up. Her full lips – unbelievably soft, Emma couldn't fucking forget – were moving a mile a minute, before curving into a smile.

Emma knew she couldn't actually hear Regan's boisterous laugh all the way across the yard with the sounds of all of the kids running around and screaming, but she swore she could.

"I'm still so proud of you," Gram's voice cut into her thoughts, making Emma wince.

God, what was wrong with her?

Actually, she knew very well what was wrong with her.

"You know, little lady, you don't have to sit with me; I'm not an invalid. You can join your girlfriend." Gram nudged Emma's arm with her elbow, exasperatedly laughing.

"What?" Emma asked yet again, ripping her gaze from Regan once again. "Sorry, um…" She screwed up her face, before managing to latch onto her gram's words. "No, I'm sitting over here because I want to sit with you."

Her gram arched an incredulous look at her. "I might be getting old, but my vision is perfectly fine. You're staring at Regan like you want to eat her alive."

Emma could feel the heat burst to life in her cheeks as she immediately shook her head. "No," she denied. "No, that's not–"

Gram reached out, gently patting her hand on Emma's. "It's nothing to be embarrassed about." She tilted her head, studying Emma. "To tell you the truth, I think it's very sweet. I haven't seen you look at someone so intensely in… well, I'm not sure how long."

"Yeah. I… uh, you might be right," she muttered. Because Emma, herself, couldn't even really think of a comparison of what she was doing right now. The reality was that she'd never felt so compelled to simply stare at Felicity, obsessing over her thoughts the way she was right now.

Still, though, Gram's statement wasn't actually true . Not really.

The reality was that Emma was staring because Regan was slowly driving Emma crazy, plugging away at every ounce of her sanity and self-control.

First there'd been that kiss. Which Emma had done a good job at filing away; Emma was great at compartmentalizing. If the kiss was all there was to this growingly complex dynamic with Regan, Emma could be mostly fine.

Then Regan had to go and add in the fact that she thought about Emma's breasts and thighs and lips all of the time .

All right – Emma could be… fine with that, too. Mostly. She could work around it.

Because she thought about how attractive Regan was, often, and she was fine – totally great! – being platonic roommate friends with her. Even though Emma was so attracted to Regan that it was distracting, she hadn't ever had any issues keeping her thoughts PG and keeping her hands to herself.

But when she added in the way she'd woken up yesterday morning, snuggled so closely with Regan on the couch that there was literally no space between them… well, that made Emma's stomach flutter. Uncontrollably.

Emma hadn't even remembered falling asleep on Friday night – rather, early Saturday morning. All she'd known was that Regan had stayed out later than any other night since they'd lived together, and Emma really had been worried. But she hadn't wanted to be weirdly clingy and text Regan when will you be home or anything like that, because it wasn't any of her business! She wasn't Regan's keeper or her girlfriend or anything else.

They were roommates and friends. Regan had told her she was going out and would be home later , which was all the due diligence Emma should expect. She just hadn't known later would mean so much later!

And when Regan had arrived home, she'd been so alarmingly and disarmingly charming. Her cheeks were rosy, and her dark eyes were wide, and her smile was so full, and her giggles were so sweet sounding.

It had been a weak moment for Emma. She'd been concerned about Regan for a couple of hours, and on top of that? She'd missed Regan's company, which had been jarring. When she'd realized that was the first Friday night in nearly two months that she wasn't spending hanging out with Regan, and not only that, but that she missed her?! Dear god.

But it was the undeniable truth.

Then, Regan had cuddled up to Emma, fitting against her as if their bodies knew one another far more intimately than they actually did. Emma had been tired and relieved that Regan was home safe, and her body… her body had missed that feeling.

That closeness, that warmth. It was intoxicating. It had been so easy to succumb to it, telling herself it would only be "for a few minutes."

Before Emma had realized it, she'd woken up and it was Saturday morning. Daylight streamed in from the windows, and she'd sighed in sleepy content. Inhaling a deep breath of Regan's minty fresh shampoo as she'd rubbed her nose against the crown of her head, then she'd lightly stroked her hand up and down Regan's back.

Regan's… bare back?

Emma's morning drowsiness had dashed away as her mind fully caught up to her body. Her eyes opened widely, heart thundering in her chest, as she'd stared at Regan. Who was now half on her side and half sprawled over Emma.

Blessedly, Regan was still wearing her clothing from the night before. But her crop top had ridden up to the point that it was essentially just a bra, and Emma's hand was pressed against Regan's spine, moving with every inhale and exhale Regan let out. Every exhale that made Emma shiver, as warm puffs of breath washed against the sensitive skin of her collarbone.

Not only did she become acutely aware of the sweet-cuddling intimacy of the situation, but she'd also been faced with the reality of the unexpected yet undeniable sexual intimacy.

Because Regan's hot breath made her shudder, and her hand was resting against the curve of Emma's waist, her thumb under Emma's shirt, so close to the bottom of Emma's breast – too close. Mere centimeters away. Though it wasn't touching her, the excruciatingly close non-touch almost felt like a tease. Added to both of those things, one of her legs was slid between Emma's, slotted perfectly between her thighs.

Everything combined to remind Emma that she hadn't experienced real intimacy of any kind with another person in over two years.

Emma reached up to rub her fingers at her temples, trying to stave off a headache. The lack of sleep she'd gotten last night – alone and in her own bed, but her thoughts tormented by the night before – in combination with the sunny heat and loud music and squealing children and the way Regan had a little sheen of sweat over her cheeks that somehow looked cute – it was all too much.

"So?" Gram nudged Emma once more. "Go and talk to her! I promise you, I'm just fine sitting here without you for a while. In fact, I think I'll wave Eva over to keep me company."

"No," Emma quickly refused. "No, that's – I'm fine here. She's busy."

Unerringly, Emma's gaze slid back to Regan. Who was busy.

Even more parents had amassed around her, and…

And Regan's eyes met hers across the lawn, as she lifted her eyebrows and jerked her head, mouthing help me!

Beside her, Gram chuckled. "Oh, I think she'd appreciate you right about now."

Emma couldn't disagree, obviously.

"Um… right. Then, I'll go over there," she murmured to both herself and her grandmother, gearing herself up.

"Yes, you will go over there. I'd like to think that I didn't raise you to throw your girlfriend to the wolves."

"No, you didn't," she agreed, because her grandmother had very much raised her to show up for the people she cared about.

And even if she and Regan weren't under the guise of being in a relationship, the reality was that Regan had slid in some side door Emma didn't even know existed and had become someone Emma cared about. A lot.

She stood, aiming a look at Gram. "I'll be back. If you need me for anything, just text."

Gram leveled her with a look. "I can walk on my own, Emma. My god, I don't think I've ever hovered over you like this."

"It's incredibly humid today, the UV index is high, and your doctor's orders are to take it easy in the heat," she reminded, citing from her gram's paperwork from her last appointment.

"Fine," her gram relented with an aggrieved sigh. "If necessary, I will call you over."

"Good."

"Now, go rescue your girlfriend." Gram lifted her hand, shooing Emma away.

She obliged, throwing her grandmother one final look over her shoulder. By the time she was only ten feet away, Eva had slid into Emma's chair, talking animatedly with Gram, which Emma supposed was a relief.

At least, it meant she could focus her attention on rescuing Regan from… whatever situation it was she needed help with.

The closer she walked to Regan, the more the pit of her stomach erupted with tiny butterflies. No, she forcefully corrected. She wouldn't classify these are butterflies . Maybe just… flies?

She pulled a face, nixing the thought.

The point was, she wasn't nervous around Regan; Regan Gallagher didn't make her nervous.

After all, Emma had been able to act totally normal post-kiss. Sometimes she hadn't always felt completely normal, but she had an iron will. She could act totally normal post-cuddle, as well.

The moment she was in the vicinity, Regan ducked out from the middle of the group of parents surrounding her. "I'd really like to chat more, later, but my gorgeous girlfriend is here, and I really have to talk to her. Enjoy!"

She called her final words over her shoulder as she essentially sprung herself at Emma, hooking her arm through Emma's with a force that nearly spun her off of her feet.

Stumbling for a moment to keep pace despite her height advantage, Emma stared between Regan and the group they were quickly leaving behind in the dust. "Is everything all right? Were they trying to cannibalize you or something?"

"Basically!" Regan hissed, resolutely staring forward, as she led Emma around the corner of the house to the smaller side yard. Finally, she let out a deep sigh of relief. "Where were you?! I was drowning there!"

"I was sitting where I'd been the entire time!" Emma defended, even though she couldn't help but laugh at the exaggeratedly distressed expression Regan wore. Because if she didn't make herself find amusement in it, then Regan's big, puppy-dog eyes and pouty mouth would drive her to distraction. "I figured when you wanted to join me, you would."

"I wanted to join you forever ago, as soon as I set up the dessert table. But I was accosted by PTA parents!" Regan whisper-hissed.

"I assumed you were more than capable of handling yourself in any crowd." Emma was being entirely honest; she genuinely had no concerns about Regan talking to anyone, at any time, about anything.

It was something she deeply admired.

"I can ! But they were never-ending. Just when I thought I'd be able to slip out of the conversation, more of them came to chat. It was like that snake, where you cut off one head and more grow back in its place." Regan unlinked their arms to swing around and face Emma, leaning back against the side of the house. "What's that thing called?"

"A hydra," Emma filled in for her, turning to lean her back against the house as well, standing shoulder-to-shoulder. It seemed… smarter, than facing Regan head-on, for some reason.

Maybe because the little flush over Regan's cheeks, with the heat and the passion in her voice was entirely too appealing to look at.

"I knew you'd know it." Tilting her head up, Regan searched Emma's gaze with her own. "And – thanks. Yes, I can hold my own in conversations with just about anyone. But the whole reason I'm even here is because I'm supposed to be helping you !" She leaned in, nudging her arm against Emma's. But she didn't slide back a few inches, after. Instead, she stayed, maintaining the contact.

Emma swallowed hard; maybe this wasn't the smartest idea. Maybe she needed to figure out a way to experience less contact with the most tactile person she'd ever met until she could forget about Friday night.

"The whole reason I'm here is to be your girlfriend, at your side when you need assistance. I saw Kimberly and your sisters come to you a little while ago, and I couldn't extract myself in time!" The earnest expression on Regan's face mixed with the heated intensity in her tone forced all of Emma's conflicted feelings to scatter. Instead, a warmth lodged itself right around her heart; of course, that was what Regan cared about.

She shook her head. "Don't worry about it. Honestly, it was fine. I had Gram there."

Interest sparked into Regan's eyes. "It was seriously-everything-is-actually good kind of fine? Or ugh -I-guess-it- was-fine kind of fine?"

"The first one," she admitted, and she didn't know who was more surprised.

Regan's hand immediately reached out, grabbing Emma's in excitement. "Really? That's – what happened?"

"Nothing much; she came over to check on me and Gram, make sure we didn't need anything. Then…" Emma rolled her lips, thinking of the slightly uncomfortable dip in the brief conversation. "She told me she was really sorry she never threw me a party. And she offered to keep the pool open for my birthday this year, if I wanted to throw a big pool party."

Her mom's eyes had been wide and hopeful with the offer, which had been the height of Emma's discomfort.

Regan snorted, before she slapped her free hand over her mouth. "Sorry. Not funny, I know. I just can't imagine you wanting your mom to throw you a giant pool party, even if you were on the best of terms. Honestly, it sounds like the opposite of what I'd imagine you want to do for your birthday."

Emma's smile turned sardonic. "You nailed it."

She wasn't even surprised, anymore, how well Regan knew her.

"So, I turned down her offer, and then she went on the hunt for her "good camera" because apparently, she loves to document as much of birthdays as she can. That was it." Emma shrugged.

All-in-all, it had been a fairly painless exchange. Kimberly was pressed for time, and her acknowledgement of their past didn't make Emma feel like she needed to throw up – huge progress.

"That's amazing!" Regan insisted, smiling so brightly up at her as she bounced onto her tiptoes in barely restrained excitement.

Oh, damn, there was that fucking feeling in her stomach again. Emma quickly let go of Regan's hand, hoping it would help diminish that fluttering.

It did, but not by much.

Especially not as they stood so close to one another that Regan's bare arm was pressed into Emma's, and their eyes were locked, and was Regan's breathing coming faster?

Emma coughed. "Yeah, so it went fine. I think the weirdest thing for me now isn't even Kimberly; it's my sisters."

Regan blinked several times, shaking her head slightly. "Right, right, right. Sisters. What happened with them?" Her tone was slightly higher pitched than normal.

"Well, Everly wanted me to agree to join in on some viral dance video thing that she's going to be doing with her friends, before the party ends?" Emma's face screwed up in confusion. "I don't really know, but she was so excited when she asked; you'd think I'm a celebrity. And Eva… who even knows. She was just scowling the entire time. And I think she was waiting for me to leave so that she could talk to Gram?"

Regan settled back against the side of the house, staring up at Emma with the gentlest expression. "Do you really not get it?"

Emma could only shrug in response, especially as Regan was looking at her like that .

"Everly talks to you like she reveres you because she's so young, and you're her big sister . You live in New York and work at a magazine, and she doesn't know you all that well, and Kimberly is clearly super proud of you; that's a big deal to her," Regan explained, her tone exasperated but warm. She leaned in as close as she could possibly be as she continued, "You're cool and smart and funny and pretty."

Emma felt her heart beat a little faster. Regan always had those compliments ready to fall right out of her mouth, and they always sounded so genuine; Emma had never been around someone that effortlessly made her feel so good about herself.

"And Eva?" She prompted, her voice a little hoarse.

"Hmm? Oh. Eva," Regan muttered, shaking her head softly. "To Eva… well, you're her big sister. You're cool and smart and funny and pretty, and she doesn't know you all that well, and Kimberly is super proud of you," she echoed with laughter in her voice. "Those facts mean different things at different ages; it's complicated. But that's what it's like to have a sister."

"I guess you would know," she murmured, thinking about everything Regan had shared about her own sister.

All of the stories about her life that she'd shared, pulling Emma in, making her feel inexorably close to Regan. Before she'd kissed her.

"I would," Regan confirmed, softly.

The sound of a camera shuttering jarred them out of the moment.

At once, Emma snapped her head to face forward, to see Kimberly standing only a few feet away with the camera she'd apparently found.

"Sneaking away for a stolen moment? Ah! I love it!" She exclaimed, smiling at them brightly.

God, what the hell was going on ? What was Emma doing? And how did she not know if she was more grateful for Kimberly coming along to interrupt… whatever this moment had turned into, or irritated by it?

Grateful, she told herself. She was grateful that their moment had come to an end.

"Can I get a picture of you two, together? Being all cute and couple-y?" Kimberly asked, hopefully, as she lifted her camera. "I'd love to have that to put up in the house."

Emma felt clumsy and frozen, which didn't seem to matter as Regan answered, "Sure."

Regan stepped into Emma's side, sliding her arm around Emma's waist and angling herself in.

She had to give Regan all of the credit in the world – she knew how to sell it. How to sell them , as if they were really involved. Emma was fairly certain that if it was all up to her, she'd have never fooled anyone about this charade.

But with every touch Regan initiated, it felt so very natural. Maybe she couldn't even give all of the credit to Regan, though. Maybe she needed to give their literal bodies credit, because Regan slotted against her so ridiculously perfectly.

"A little closer; you don't have to pretend modesty for my benefit! I love how in love you are." Kimberly urged, using the hand not holding her camera to wave them even closer.

Regan, ever the dutiful fake-girlfriend, complied.

With Regan's whole body pressed against Emma, she felt her head spin a little. Her arm tightened around Regan's waist, and – when had she even wrapped her arm around Regan's waist?! She didn't remember doing that.

Regan seemed to hesitate briefly, before she popped up onto her tiptoes and pressed her lips to Emma's cheek, mere centimeters from her own mouth. And Emma's breath caught, her skin tingling at the feeling of that full, soft mouth on her again. Lingering, as Kimberly snapped several photos.

Boundaries, Emma thought errantly. They should have established some boundaries, after their kiss last weekend. About what should be allowed going forward.

Because this – this shouldn't happen.

"Thank you! I'll send you a copy when I have everything printed; this is so cute," Kimberly gushed. "Oh, Regan, honey – we're going to cut the cake in a minute! I was wondering if you'd like to help? So many people have asked about getting your number."

Emma dropped her arm from Regan's waist, wishing she didn't feel the tingle of the lasting contact so clearly.

"Um – yeah. I'll absolutely help."

As soon as Regan voiced her agreement, Kimberly turned and started toward the main area for the party. "I'll let you finish up over here while I get everything ready."

Emma had no idea what, exactly, she was going to say as soon as her mother was gone. But she knew she had to say something before they fell back into a… moment. Especially now, while the imprint of Regan's kiss was still buzzing against her skin.

Only for Regan to beat her to the punch. "I – look, I have to tell you something."

There was an unfamiliar edge of nerves in Regan's voice, as she tilted her head up at Emma. Nerves, but clearly a steely resolve, as well.

Cautiously, Emma nodded. "Okay?"

Regan tangled her fingers together in front of herself, blowing out a deep breath. "At first, being your fake girlfriend was just something fun. Something that I thought could help us bond. Something I could do for you that seemed really simple. But… it's not so simple, now."

Emma could feel her eyebrows lift high on her forehead, surprise sweeping through her. Did Regan not want to do it, anymore? Did she agree that they should have boundaries in place?

Before she could actually ask any of her questions, Regan continued.

"The reality is, Emma, that I like you. In the real girlfriend kind of way. I like you way, way more than just a platonic roommate. That's why I went out and had drinks with my co-workers on Friday, because I realized I've been spending every weekend since you moved in obsessed with spending time with you, in one way or another."

Emma's stomach swooped and her knees felt like jelly, as she fell heavily back against the side of the house once more.

"It's so much more than a simple attraction. I didn't realize it when I kissed you. I'm new to this!" Regan gestured between the two of them. "And Sutton is my biggest sounding board in life, and I haven't talked to her about you or us or this–"

Emma hadn't known she could be even more floored than she already was, but somehow, Regan found a way. "You haven't talked to Sutton about any of this?!"

Emma hadn't called Sutton in the past week because she'd been sure that Regan had told Sutton, and she hadn't felt ready to answer any of the questions she was certain Sutton would have.

"No!" Regan looked at Emma as if Emma were the person dropping bombs, here. "Because I know you like privacy, and also because I know there's nothing to tell her. Not really . Because I know that nothing is going on between us. I know you were super fucking freaked out when I kissed you, and I promise, Emma, I promise – I'm not trying to do that to you, again."

"You're not?" She dimly repeated.

Because Emma was freaking out. Her heart was hammering in her chest, and she felt ridiculously – crazily – pleased and flattered and thrilled. And most of all, the alarm sirens were going off deafeningly loud in her head.

"No!" Regan insisted, reaching out to grasp at Emma's, insistently. Her big, dark eyes were wide and imploring and so deep, Emma swore she could fall into them. "I don't want to freak you out; I'm not going to go all crazy-stalker or anything because you don't like me back. It's fine that you don't have feelings for me." She winced. "I mean, it doesn't make me feel great , but it's okay."

"Why are you telling me this?" Desperation broke into Emma's tone, and she found that she couldn't pull her hand from Regan's. Instead, she squeezed it. Hard. "Why are you telling me this, at my nine-year-old sister's birthday party?"

Emma couldn't freak out here! She couldn't freak out about the fact that Regan was making the most romantic comments to her that anyone had ever made.

"I didn't mean to! I wasn't going to tell you at all! I was going to be an adult and just move past these feelings as much as I could, but then Kimberly came over here. And she wanted us to act cute and couple-y and that's kind of the deal, here, since I'm playing the role of your girlfriend and all." Regan's thumb stroked gently over Emma's knuckles. "I'm absolutely fine, still playing this part. In fact," a self-deprecating, gorgeous smile flashed over Regan's face as she stared up at Emma. "I probably like playing the part too much, now. Which, honestly, is why I have to confess the truth to you."

"Because when I lean into you and kiss your cheek, I get this rush . And I really, really like it. But it feels wrong, because you don't know what it's doing to me. It feels kind of like I'm taking advantage, and that is the last thing I want to do with you. So, I had to tell you," Regan finished, eyes searching Emma's.

She had no idea what Regan was seeing. Emma had very little idea what she , herself, was feeling. Bafflingly, she felt like the biggest anchor she had right now was the hold Regan's hand had on hers.

"Regan?" Kimberly called, before she popped her head around the corner of the house. "I have everything ready for the cake!"

Regan nodded in acknowledgement, keeping her eyes on Emma for several more seconds. "Okay, I'm coming."

"All righty," Kimberly ducked away again.

"So… I'm going to go help cut this crazy unicorn cake I'm responsible for. And I'll let you process. And then we can get back to normal again," Regan stated, as if she'd resolved every problem. As if she hadn't just thrown a major bomb at Emma, and caused a much bigger ripple effect.

She stroked her thumb softly over the back of Emma's hand once more, and they both looked down at the way their fingers were linked.

Somehow, they really did fit together so well.

"See, this is what I'm talking about," Regan said, her voice so soft and so… reverent. It was the only word Emma could think of that made sense.

And it made everything inside of Emma that was going haywire at Regan's confession melt to a fucking puddle.

"When I run my thumb over your knuckles and feel your skin under mine, it makes me feel so electric. Like I've never been more alive, and all we're doing is holding hands," she whispered, still staring down at them. "I've never had that feeling, before."

Emma's heart was in her throat at the gentle confession, something big and soft and overwhelming threatening to break free.

Blessedly – or not? – Regan sighed, and slid her hand out of Emma's, shaking her hair back and smiling up at Emma once more. "Anyway. I think it's good that you know, now. God knows I wasn't going to be able to keep this in, and at least this time I was able to tell you with words and not a kiss."

With that, Regan sent her another look, before turning and walking away.