Chapter 22

twenty-two

It was irritatingly, disturbingly difficult to focus on work when Emma had a date with Regan in approximately… one hour. Maybe less? Maybe more? She'd be home in less than an hour, but she didn't know what Regan's timeline looked like for when they needed to leave, for wherever it was that they were going.

Emma didn't really know, because Regan was being extremely tight-lipped about it. Which was, in turn, extremely un-Regan-like.

She paused packing up her bag for the day, turning her attention down to her phone.

Emma – 5:51PM

You really won't tell me where we're going tonight? You know that I don't like surprises, right?

Regan Freaking Gallagher – 5:52PM

I have known you for years, have lived with you for months, and have come to deeply care about you (neuroses and all)… so, yes, I know this

But I can't tell you where we're going tonight. It might be a surprise, but I SWEAR it's a good one, you're going to love it (fact), and it's super casual, so you don't need to worry about what to wear or the vibe or anything like that

And it's NOT karaoke, before you ask :)))

Emma couldn't help the scoffing laugh, shaking her head and feeling stupidly endeared. Because she had been about to ask. Well, she'd been about to insist that they don't do karaoke, but same difference, really.

"Ahhh, young love," Brynn sighed from across their shared office space.

The grin immediately fell from Emma's lips as she felt the heat rush to her cheeks. "Do you have nothing better to do than watch me text?"

Brynn stared back, winging up an eyebrow. "Obviously. We're packing up, done for the day. What else do I have to do with my time?"

Emma couldn't really refute that and, quite frankly, she couldn't even summon up annoyance at feeling like she was under a microscope right now.

Mostly because her stomach was too preoccupied with this buzzing excitement and anxiety about her impending date.

Emma – 5:53PM

Well, you said you wanted me to tell you when I'm leaving work for the day, and I am.

Regan Freaking Gallagher – 5:53PM

Perfect timing! couldn't have been better even if you knew our plans for the evening already

I'm excited to see you

Oh, and there it was. That feeling swooping so low in her stomach, before erupting and moving somewhere up in her chest.

She held her breath for just a second, before she gave into the feeling.

Emma – 5:54PM

I'm excited to see you, too.

After all, they were going on a date tonight. They were actually doing this , despite all of the logic that screamed at Emma that this was a bad idea. That this had the potential to be disastrous, for exactly the reasons she'd already told Regan.

But that logic hadn't done Emma much good in the last few months, in terms of being able to keep her from developing these feelings for Regan, had it?

"You know I've been dying for the last two days, right? For you to tell me more about you and Regan?" Brynn asked, as Emma tucked her phone into her pocket and slung her bag over her shoulder to head out for the day.

As nervous as she truly was for tonight, she was also ready for it. She wanted to know what Regan had planned for them, what had gotten Regan so excited last night, as she'd proudly informed Emma, " I know exactly what we're doing on our date. Tomorrow night, book it in ."

Tightening her grip on the strap of her bag, she rolled her lips tightly… before expelling a deep breath. "We're going on a date tonight. That's the update."

As Brynn fell into step next to her, she reached out and slapped her hand at Emma's arm. "Shut up! That's – wow. That's a way bigger update than I expected after you were so there's no romantic drama the other night."

"There have been a few developments," she offered in vague explanation, because it really was the only explanation she had.

She definitely wasn't going to tell Brynn about walking in on Regan masturbating and how she'd never heard someone sound so uninhibited, so fucking sexy, that it drove her to the brink of insanity. Drove her right to the brink of confessing every little feeling for Regan that she'd tried to push down and ignore this summer.

But how could she have held it in? How could she have, when Regan had lit up Emma's every nerve ending with that kiss, and then talked about touching herself, and then begged – so earnestly, so genuinely – for Emma to bare her soul?

Especially when Regan had been utterly correct. She'd never asked Emma to share anything that Regan herself hadn't already shared, freely and openly, just because she wanted Emma to know.

Yeah, she wasn't going to discuss that with Brynn, either.

Apparently, she didn't need to. They shared an elevator to the lobby and Brynn merely shook her head, a thoughtful expression on her face, before she finally turned to look up at Emma. "You know, you have really surprised me. When you started in May and you were all-business, no gossip, didn't ever want to share about your personal life, I really thought I was in for a real bummer summer. But now, look at us. Somewhat friends, and you're telling me about your date with your hot roommate." She bumped her shoulder lightly into Emma's. "Not half-bad."

Emma found herself smiling even as she rolled her eyes. "Not half-bad," she agreed.

As they walked out of the building, Brynn let out a low whistle. "I'm having some déjà vu."

Confused, Emma looked at Brynn, then followed where Brynn's gaze had landed.

She shouldn't be surprised, and yet, she was. Because there Regan stood, about ten feet away from the entrance of their building, her arms crossed over her chest like she was trying to contain herself.

And most likely, Emma knew, she was. Regan's smile was full-wattage as she spotted Emma, lighting up not only her face but just… the area around her, if that was even possible.

"Like I said, perfect timing," Regan echoed her text as she walked closer, closing the distance between them. More like bounced closer, the frenetic energy coming off of her in waves. "Hi, Brynn."

"Hello to you, too, Regan. Great to see you again," Brynn commented, a sly grin on her face as Regan sidled up to Emma.

Much like when she'd picked Emma up from work all those weeks ago to go out to dinner, Regan settled right into Emma's personal space. Regan's arm pressed into hers, her hips angled toward Emma as well. Unlike the last time, Emma didn't put any space between them. She didn't feel the urge to, even with Brynn staring at them.

Being this close to Regan now felt… normal. She liked it, and she was in far too deep to deny that to either herself or Regan, now.

"I would love to stay and chat, but we have to head out," Regan informed Brynn with an apologetic wince. "But next time we run into each other, I'd love to chat more."

"Go, go," Brynn shooed them. "Have fun on your date."

Regan blinked after Brynn for a long second as Brynn started to walk away, before she looked up at Emma. Those dark eyes were wide, looking at Emma with surprise. "You told her?"

Feeling a twinge of embarrassment, Emma shrugged. "It's not a huge deal. We're… friends."

Slowly, Regan tilted her head, as that smile – even more wattage than before – returned. "You and Brynn are friends! And you told her that we're going on a date."

"That's what I said," Emma murmured, but she couldn't deny that Regan's joy was infectious.

Regan slid her hand down, lacing their fingers together. It wasn't the first time they'd held hands, not by a long shot. But it was the first time that they were doing it for them , and not because Regan was offering her comfort or because they were operating as fake-girlfriends.

They both stared down at their hands for a few seconds, and Emma had to believe that Regan was thinking the same thing she was. That this felt so… comfortable. Like they slotted together so perfectly, and they didn't have to brush it off or focus on playing a part.

Doing everything she could to try to stay grounded – this might be a date, but it was also a test run, Emma reminded herself – she cleared her throat to gain Regan's attention. "So… have you just been waiting out here or…?"

Regan laughed, leaning into Emma's side. "Only for, like, ten minutes. I didn't know when you were going to get out of the office today; if you were out at five, then I could have just met you at home. But once the clock hit five-thirty, I figured it was better to meet you instead."

With that, Regan used their hands to gently tug Emma, leading her down the street.

Amused, Emma stared at the side of Regan's face. "So, the mystery event tonight is on a schedule."

"Yes, it's scheduled," Regan confirmed, wiggling her eyebrows at Emma. "But that's all you're getting from me about it."

"Hmm," Emma hummed in thought. "It's kind of risky, given that I might not have gotten out of work until even later than this," she pointed out.

Because it was true. Yes, it was rare that Allegra needed her to be in-office until seven or eight, but it had happened.

Regan nodded. "It was risky, but it'll be worth it," she promised. "Besides, it's a Wednesday. You don't usually work later than six on Wednesdays."

Emma couldn't refute that, or even pretend to be surprised that Regan had noticed and memorized that fact.

"You're really hyping this date up," she quietly mused, still studying Regan's profile, as if she'd be able to read her mind.

"It's because I'm pretttty confident about it," Regan shot back, and the grin that darted over her face was sharp and knowing and, indeed, confident. Something about it kick-started that sparking heat inside of Emma, similar to that feeling from Monday night in their apartment.

They'd been very good, very appropriate, for the remainder of Monday night, as well as all day yesterday. Emma was sticking true to her word – she'd see how the date went, but she wasn't going to indulge in anything else before this.

It didn't mean she hadn't wanted to, though.

They'd had dinner together last night, then had sat so close on the couch. No closer than they usually did, but… it was already different. The air around them felt so much heavier, and every single part of Emma was on high alert around Regan. Her body responded to every brush against Regan's as if it were Monday night all over again. As if she'd just heard Regan moaning and swearing as she neared an orgasm, as if they'd just shared the most intense kiss of her life.

She'd be lying if she said she wasn't incredibly relieved that Regan had announced their date would be so soon, because she wasn't sure how they'd push through with any boundaries intact if they had to wait even longer.

"Oh, wait," Regan paused, still holding Emma's hand, as she held out her other hand and gestured at Emma's bag. "Give me that."

Emma's free hand clutched at the strap of her bag, cautiously. "Why?"

"Because, you goof, I'm going to carry it for you. Because this is a date. Duh."

Emma chuckled, shaking her head. "I can carry my own bag."

"I'm aware of that. But…" Regan dug her teeth into her bottom lip, her eyes searching Emma's. "I want to be chivalrous. I've never been chivalrous on a date, before."

It was that freaking look in Regan's eyes, Emma thought, as she felt herself get caught up in them. The way she looked at Emma, like she would swear by every word she said. Like she wanted more than anything to make Emma… happy. It wasn't something she'd ever experienced before, and she didn't even register what she was doing until her hand brushed Regan's as she handed over her bag.

"You don't need to be chivalrous ." She cleared her throat, drawing herself back to reality. "You just need to be you."

She could see how Regan swallowed, heavily, her gaze dipping to Emma's lips. The desire in Regan's expression was so clear, Emma felt short of breath.

Regan closed her eyes and tugged Emma's hand as she started walking again. "You said that to me before. When you were taking me to meet your grandmother."

"I remember." And she did. She remembered all of these moments they'd shared in the last several weeks, in vivid color. "And it worked. Because she really, really likes you."

Gram liked Regan so much, it was nearly overwhelming, and it was entirely, unbelievably appealing.

"No one's ever said something like that to me. That you actually want me to be my whole self," Regan admitted, softly.

"Well… people are stupid. It's why I don't like them, generally." Even though Emma knew she'd once been one of those people, someone that didn't know how to handle Regan's all-encompassing personality. But she'd been wrong. And other people were, too.

"Oh, Emma," Regan sighed, squeezing her hand a few times.

Emma felt that easy warmth flit through her. Regan didn't need to elaborate; Emma understood what she was feeling.

It didn't take long for them to arrive at their destination, and Regan used their interlocked hands to pull Emma to a stop.

"We're here!" She announced, buzzing with clear excitement, as she gestured with her free hand to the doors in front of her.

The doors to By the Book , apparently, a bookstore only blocks away from Emma's work. A bookstore that she hadn't even known about, which was enough to throw her off. Mostly, though, she felt herself already start to melt a bit.

She'd told Regan all those weeks ago that the best place to bring her was a bookstore. How was she supposed to keep any semblance of a level head on this date when Regan remembered every word she ever said, and brought her to one of her favorite places on earth?

Regan gasped, drawing Emma's attention. Concern welled up inside of her when she saw the undeniably upset look on her face, and she gripped Regan's hand a little tighter. "Hey, what's wrong? Are you okay?"

"No! I'm not okay!" Regan pointed to the window next to the door, where there was a flyer advertisement Emma hadn't yet noticed.

She, too, gasped when she saw Alexis Levine – book signing and Q I wanted to know you , better."

No one had ever looked at her the way Regan did, the way she was right now. Like she wanted to climb inside of Emma's mind and know every single one of her thoughts.

Emma stared back, her breath catching in her throat, and she had the strongest, neediest desire to push Regan back against the bookshelf behind them, and kiss her. Though they'd kissed twice, Emma had never been the one to initiate one, and right now – in this very public, very inappropriate moment – she wanted to so badly, she had to clench her free hand into a fist and dig her nails into her palm as a sharp reminder that this wasn't the time or place.

Blowing out a deep breath, Emma got herself under control. Grounded , she reminded herself, even though she could already feel herself floating into Regan's orbit.

She fell even deeper into that orbit over dinner.

Emma stared at Regan over her Gone-with-the-Gin cocktail, unable to take her eyes away from her.

Somehow, this was her life. Somehow, she was here, on a date with Regan Gallagher, and feeling more charmed than she'd ever felt in her life.

Regan glanced up from the menu she was perusing to catch Emma's eye. Arching an eyebrow, she asked, "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I just…" She rolled her lips. "You read my favorite books."

There was an awed note in her tone that she still couldn't get rid of. And with it, a slow smile slid over Regan's face. "I did. And it was a great choice. The only other books I've read in the last five years were ones Katherine wrote, but I actually liked that this was a different vibe."

"Different genre," Emma mused, too entertained by Regan referring to the genre as a vibe.

"Right," Regan agreed.

Emma took a moment to reflect, before she sighed, wistfully. "I can't believe Katherine Spencer is Sutton's mom. When I found that out, after a few weeks of knowing Sutton, I almost peed myself."

Regan nearly choked on her own drink – a Tequila Mockingbird – with spluttering laughter. "Really?"

"Yes!" Indignance worked through her as she scoffed. "I mean, the Katherine Spencer is one of my favorite writers! And somehow, I happened into a friendship with her daughter? I've only met her a few times in the last couple of years, but I swear – each time, I've made a total fool of myself."

Regan chuckled, dropping her chin into her hand as she stared at Emma over the table. "How so?"

"I mean, the last time I saw her was in May, the week after I moved in. You were at work, and there was a knock on the door, so I answered it. And, there she stood." Emma could remember it vividly, and her stomach still churned in embarrassment. "As is par for the freaking course for every time I've interacted with this woman, I was awe-struck. When I was finally able to talk like a normal person, I stared at her like a total idiot and told her that Sutton wasn't home."

Emma groaned softly at herself. "And she stared at me with, like, the sweetest smile – like I was a moron, but she didn't want me to feel badly about myself or something – and said I know that my daughter is in Rome; I'm looking for Regan . Like, obviously, she knew her daughter was in fucking Rome."

Regan's guffaw of laughter forced a chuckle from Emma, even as she could feel herself blush.

When she looked back at Regan, she was taken aback by the soft, sweet look she wore. "Ahh, and the she came and saw me at Topped Off; I remember."

"And I think you went out to dinner with her." Emma's detailed recollection of Regan's comings-and-goings from months ago wasn't lost on her.

"I did," Regan confirmed. "I usually do when she's in town."

"Even if Sutton isn't," Emma slowly muttered, trying to put together the picture being displayed in front of her.

Regan nodded, easily. "Oh, yeah. I mean…" She rolled her lips, that smile on her lips fading just a bit. "I wasn't very close to my own parents, growing up. Like I told you. But I latched onto Katherine like a second mom, and I think she knew that I didn't really fit at my house, because she treated me like her sixth kid. Family vacations, holidays, birthdays – any time I could get away from my house, I would. And my dad worked for Sutton's dad and really respected him, so, they let me go to the Spencers a lot . I think…" Regan rolled her lips, her eyebrows knitting together in thought.

"I think they liked it, that way. They trusted I was in good hands with Katherine and Jack, and they didn't have to deal with me, so it was a win-win. At least, that's how it always felt." Regan's tone turned pensive and heavy, as she shrugged. "Anyway, I think I spent literally at least fifty percent of my adolescence sharing Sutton's bedroom."

Much like the first time Regan had shared information about her past and her family with Emma, she found herself utterly riveted. It was the same feeling she had when she was reading a great book – she hated the idea of putting it down the same way she hated the idea of Regan not sharing every little detail with her.

Also much like that time, Emma felt this unfamiliar but undeniable anger well up at the idea of Regan's parents.

She didn't quite know what to do with that, honestly. She'd never felt so – so defensive over someone else, before.

Emma didn't actually need to process it right now, though, as Regan shrugged and pushed past it. "But, yeah. Katherine usually makes a point to check in with me when she's in town. She texts or calls me every few weeks, too. And she usually does like to swing by and see the apartment," Regan gestured at Emma, recalling her interaction with Katherine. "Which makes sense, since she pays a third of the rent."

Surprised and confused, Emma reeled back. "What?"

Regan slowly tilted her head at Emma, also looking confused. "You didn't know?"

"Like… she pays a third of the rent even now ? When Sutton's not there?" Emma pressed, trying to wrap her mind around the possibility.

She'd assumed that Sutton's parents paid her share of the rent, given what a nice apartment it was, in a good neighborhood, and Sutton certainly didn't make enough to pay half of the rent from what she took home as a teaching assistant; Emma would know. But…

"Yeah," Regan confirmed, taking a sip of her drink. "When I moved to the city – freshly into the summer as a college dropout – I went out and got into an apartment. Kind of like your last setup; I found three randos online that were looking for a fourth person to rent out a bed. It was a total shithole. I think someone had possibly been murdered there? Not to mention the cockroaches." She shuddered.

Emma's attention snapped right back into riveted mode, as soon as the conversation turned back to Regan. That alone told her everything she really needed to know. And, of course, Regan shuddered in disgust at the cockroaches rather than the murder scene.

"I'd only been there for, like, a day when Sutton came over to check it out. She was… less than impressed." Regan's lips curled into a cute smile as she laughed. "Actually, the exact thing she said was, no . Then she packed up the only bag I'd unpacked and took me back to her dorm room. She had a single, and was staying here over the summer," she explained, "Taking a bonus lit. course for fun, the nerd."

"Sutton got on the phone with her parents and sent them the pictures of the apartment. We worked out a deal – I would pay a third of the rent, and Sutton's parents would pay the rest. When Sutton finished undergrad, she took over a third, too. I could afford my full half, after I got my promotion. And I offered," Regan was quick to inform her, as if still wanting to make sure Emma thought the best of her, clearly still thinking about how Emma had expressed her irritation at Regan's privileged upbringing. "But Katherine said she'd prefer it if I take some time to bulk up my savings. When Sutton comes back from Rome, the lease is going to be re-evaluated."

"I always assumed you had some sort of trust fund or whatever to fall back on," Emma's voice was quiet as she tried to wrap her mind around all of the new information she was being presented with.

A sharp smile flashed over Regan's face. "Well, I did , technically. You weren't wrong about what you said a couple months ago; I did grow up super lucky because money wasn't an issue. And both my sister and I had trusts set up for us from our parents. But as soon as I dropped out of college, my parents were very clear that I wouldn't ever be getting a penny of it."

Emma slumped back against her chair, heavily. Yes, Regan had grown up with wealth and privilege, but she didn't actually have it, now . And, if Emma was honest with herself, that would have changed the way she'd seen Regan a lot sooner.

As soon as the thought hit her, Emma gasped and sat at attention. "I let you pay my hospital bill!"

Oh, she didn't like this feeling that curled through her and sat like a stone in her stomach, not at all.

Regan's confusion was obvious, as was her shame. "I mean, paying your hospital bill was the right thing to do, since I sent you there."

Emma was already shaking her head, though, and she reached up, rubbing at her temples. "Regardless, I only agreed to let you do it because I thought you had, like, family money at your disposal. Even with my insurance, it was over a thousand dollars!"

Still, Regan stared across from her, undeterred. "And I was happy to do it; I owed you that."

"No, you didn't. I want to pay you back."

"I won't take it," Regan immediately returned, looking affronted. "Emma, I almost killed you. Literally. Paying the hospital bill was the least I could do. And I don't want to argue about it, especially on our date ," she insisted, a steely tone under her typically relaxed demeanor. "It's been months; the statute of limitations has run out."

Emma felt it, again. That feeling of sliding deeper and deeper into this. "You, Regan Gallagher, have a lot of character." She almost wished she'd seen it sooner, but… honestly, she probably would have fallen for Regan a lot sooner, too, and she had no idea how that would have gone.

The look on Regan's face was pure radiance, as she hummed happily. "Why, thank you. Now, let's pick something for dinner – afterwards, we're going to do something I'm super excited about: pick out each other's next read."

Oh, yeah. It really was all over for her.

"All I'm saying is that vanilla gets a really bad reputation!" Regan ardently insisted, as they walked into the elevator of their building several hours later.

Emma shook her head, utterly amused. "I don't have strong feelings on it either way; I'm mostly just invested because you are so adamant."

Regan's heartfelt defense of vanilla ice cream had started two blocks over, when they'd stopped at the gourmet ice cream shop on the way home from the bookstore. Emma had gotten a mocha chocolate chip – a choice she stood by, wholeheartedly – and after she'd ordered, Regan had stepped up and gotten… vanilla.

Emma had given her a baffled stare, because out of any flavor she could imagine anyone but especially Regan choosing, vanilla hadn't been on the list of possibilities.

Admittedly, Emma had gotten a little lost in her argument, as she'd watched Regan lick her vanilla ice cream for the last few blocks. She'd gotten her own in a cup, a choice she'd been making since childhood. And she was grateful for her decision as they'd walked, because her mocha chip had melted a bit from neglect, as Emma had gotten far too easily distracted.

"It's a classic, it goes with everything," Regan stated, firmly. "And I don't like vanilla slander, that's all."

Emma hit the button for their floor, before stepping back to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Regan. "I've never heard someone be so intent about vanilla ice cream, but if anyone was going to do it, I'm not surprised it's you."

"Thank you," Regan accepted as if Emma's simple statement had been an outright compliment.

Even as her lips ticked into a warm smile at the response, Emma took a deep, bracing breath as the doors opened to their floor and they stepped out into the hallway.

"So…" Regan started, glancing down the hall at their door. "I think date etiquette states that the date is coming to an end, as we're coming to your front door."

"Your front door, too," Emma reminded her, amused.

Regan waved her off. "Yeah, sure, but this was my date that I planned for you . As your date, I'm walking you to your apartment door for the end of the night to close out our date, and then I'll become your roommate again."

"Ah, I didn't realize that you haven't been my roommate all along."

"Easy mistake to make," Regan murmured with a quiet chuckle. A chuckle that sounded riddled with nerves, which were reflected in Regan's face as she turned to face Emma in the hallway. Her hands were locked together in front of her, Emma's work bag still slung over her shoulder as she'd insisted that she carry it home, as well. The bag also now contained the three books Regan had bought for Emma at the store, and the one Emma had picked out and bought for Regan.

"So, how was it?" Regan asked, her voice soft, as her gaze searched Emma's. "On a scale of one to ten. One being that we need to forget this ever happened and you're back to not even liking me as a friend, four being that you were disappointed with the evening and don't see us working out romantically, but you still want to be platonic roommate-friends, seven being that you had a good time but you think there's room for improvement and you see possible pitfalls in our romantic future, and ten being that you had a great time and you'd love to do this again with me, because you see that we have something real between us."

An incredulous laugh bubbled up her throat. "You know, that's quite a scale. I've never heard someone ask me to rank something like that, before."

Regan shrugged, anxiety and hope clearly written on her face as those dark eyes glinted up at Emma. "Well, I'm an individual. Someone that's an acquired taste, that's for sure."

Emma stared intently at Regan, the smile on her lips fading slightly. "You are," she agreed in a murmur.

Their evening played on a loop in a blur in her mind, and what stood out the most was how Regan had taken such care to think about Emma every step of the way.

"I haven't really been on a date in over two years," Emma found herself admitting. "Which you know, since you know I haven't been with anyone since Felicity." It didn't make her feel any less embarrassed about it in a way she typically wasn't.

But Emma hadn't felt like this – desired and wanted, like she was more than a granddaughter and a friend and someone that needed to put her head down and bust her ass to get to the next step in her life – in the time since Felicity.

"And even then… well, the final months of my relationship with Felicity hadn't been exactly romance-central." Emma rolled her lips, wondering how much she wanted to confess. Normally, she wouldn't want to say any of this to anyone.

But this was Regan, and Emma felt so utterly comfortable with her, now. Comfortable enough that she wanted to tell her everything about her past relationship.

"Nothing in my relationship with Felicity was romance-central, actually. And part of that was on me," she admitted, accepting her role in it with a shrug. "I was caught up in her, sure, but she was very pragmatic, and didn't think very highly of people getting caught up in anything frivolous, which included romance. She referred to it as performative, and I really bought into that."

Emma had started dating Felicity when she'd barely been twenty, Felicity had been a few years older and more experienced, and Emma had accepted so much of what Felicity said as truth. It had been a natural leap for Emma, too, because she'd seen all of Kimberly's relationships throughout her youth crash and burn on highs of infatuation, and she'd been so soured on the idea of being all caught up in another person. She'd liked what she'd perceived as Felicity's realism.

Regan's eyes searched hers, and Emma could see how actively Regan listened to her. Like she soaked in every statement Emma made, and it made those butterflies Emma had been trying to catch in an internal net all night trying to keep in check start to flutter again.

"So… did you feel like tonight was performative?" Regan slowly asked, nerves riddled through her tone.

"No," Emma breathed back, and the confession felt like it really was the final nail in the coffin. The coffin that held all of Emma's carefully-held logic and judgments and confliction about the what-ifs, and everything that could go wrong, here. "I feel like you listen to me, and care about my feelings and my thoughts. I feel like you put my interests first tonight, because you wanted to, and you wanted me to have a good time. But I felt like you had a good time, too."

Regan's answering nod was quick and eager.

"I feel like… I might be doing the most illogical, craziest thing I've ever done, but I can't fight against it, anymore. I don't know how I could," she admitted with a heavy shrug. "I've tried . Tried ignoring my attraction to you. Tried pushing it away. Tried reasoning that I just liked to spend time with you as a friend and tried to tell myself that it was enough. But I don't think it is."

She could hear Regan's breath hitch in her throat, and Emma's pulse quickened. She'd never imagined herself being able to say things like this without an ounce of self-consciousness, and maybe if she was saying it to anyone other than Regan, it would still be the case.

Emma licked her lips, dipping her gaze to Regan's mouth.

Her throat was dry and her heart skipped a beat, and she was going to kiss Regan. She was going to be the one to kiss Regan this time, and there was no doubt about it.

"Maybe you are an acquired taste," she acknowledged, her voice rasping out of her throat as she stepped closer. Putting herself into Regan's personal space, another role-reversal first.

With a mix of anticipation, uncertainty, and conviction, she lifted her hands to Regan's hips. The tantalizing curve of them in Regan's tight jean shorts had been distracting her all fucking night, and she'd been so good. Keeping herself on a tight leash and making sure they made it to the end of the date.

Flexing her hands, she tugged Regan forward a few inches so their bodies brushed together. Regan tilted her head up on a trembling sigh, her hot breath washing over Emma's neck and jaw, making her shiver.

"But you are – surprisingly but unquestionably – my taste," she finished, ducking her head to capture Regan's lips with hers.

Regan sighed, immediately into her mouth, and she swallowed the sound, tucking it into the back of her mind to a place she didn't think she'd ever forget.

She felt Regan's hands slide up her arms, her touch warm through Emma's long-sleeved shirt, and it was the only time all night that she wished she'd been able to change out of her work clothes before the date. Because if she'd work a short-sleeved shirt, she'd be able to feel Regan's touch on her bare skin, and she craved it. She wanted that touch so, so badly.

Groaning softly in the back of her throat, she slowly slid her tongue along Regan's. Tasting her and that fucking vanilla ice cream she'd just had.

"You're right," she muttered, not breaking their kiss, just speaking into Regan's mouth. "Vanilla goes with everything."

Now that she'd laid everything on the line, that she'd confessed the full extent of her feelings, that she'd stopped denying herself – denying either of them – of this, she felt ravenous for more.

She hadn't been with someone else in so long, hadn't been touched or been able to touch for years , and this intense neediness for Regan, specifically, far outweighed anything she'd ever experienced. It made everything feel so much more , and she gripped Regan's hips tightly, guiding them a few steps until Regan's back hit the wall.

Regan moaned – one of those low, throaty sounds that Emma had been convinced belonged to someone else the other night – and the vibration of it against Emma's lips was intoxicating. The sound went right to Emma's clit, making her pulse with need.

She felt Regan's hand claw into her hair, taking a tight fistful of it, and the bite – not too hard, but enough that Emma could feel her – only added to her arousal.

"It's why I got it," Regan's voice was so hoarse, so quiet, it barely registered over the way Emma's pulse pounded in her ears. "The vanilla. Mocha chip – anything coffee-flavored – is my favorite, too, but when you ordered it, I thought, mm ," Regan sighed out a delicious groan, before she flicked out her tongue to slide over Emma's lips.

The sensation of it made Emma's knees quake, and she had to slap one of her hands onto the wall next to Regan's head to ensure she remained standing.

"I thought that I should get vanilla, because I knew they'd taste so good together, if this happened," Regan finished, before she used the hand in Emma's hair to pull Emma back in, decimating the scant centimeters she'd put between them.

God , Emma was vibrating with how strong this molten desire filled her veins. She slid her hand down slowly, relishing in the feeling of Regan's leanly muscled thigh under her fingers. Oxygen escaped her completely as her fingertips reached Regan's bare skin at the bottom of her cutoffs.

Regan keened, gripping Emma's shoulder so hard as she rolled her hips into Emma's.

Swearing into Regan's mouth, she rolled her hips back, harder, pinning Regan against the wall.

"Emma," Regan panted against her mouth, her lips brushing tantalizingly over Emma's, and something about it – about the way Regan's mouth felt on hers was so… so… insanity-inducing.

She'd thought about this mouth so much over the last few years. Back when she'd first had that fantasy crush on Regan, before she'd even known her. Even throughout their tumultuous relationship, when Emma hadn't let herself like Regan, she'd gotten so distracted by these full lips. The last several weeks – especially since she'd felt them on her own – had been torture.

And she didn't know how much self-control she could hold onto right now, she really didn't.

That fact made Emma feel crazy, mindless with this desire. Now that there was nothing holding her back, now that the final vestiges of Emma's hesitation were depleted, she just wanted .

It was that thought that had her breaking the kiss.

She gripped Regan's thigh tightly, stroking her thigh over the soft skin there even as she drew back a few inches, forcing herself to put some distance between them.

"I don't want to… to rush into anything," she managed out a whisper, through her panting breaths. "But it was a twelve," she breathed against Regan, tilting her head down and pressing their foreheads together. It took everything inside of her not to kiss Regan again, but she craved this closeness so deeply.

The hand Regan had gripped her hair with gentled and released, as she sifted her fingers through Emma's hair, and Emma could feel her hand shaking slightly. "Huh?" She hummed.

With every ounce of strength Emma possessed, she took a deep breath and lifted her head away. Regan's cheeks were flushed, her lips so pink and swollen, and she still had her eyes closed. Emma's heart skipped a beat, entirely unrelated to this raging heat inside of her, and all to do with how stupidly beautiful Regan was.

"On your scale," Emma murmured, finally feeling steady enough on her feet to take her hand off of the wall so she could stroke Regan's hair behind her ear. These dark waves she'd looked at but never touched were so, so soft under her fingertips. "The date was a twelve."

Regan blinked her eyes open, and… yeah. There were those tawny flecks around her irises in eyes so dark they were nearly black with desire. "Wow. I outdid myself so well, I didn't even know it was possible," she joked, quietly.

Emma nodded, entirely seriously. "Not surprising."

Regan took a deep, steadying breath and tilted her head back against the wall. "I know I need to walk you to the door and finish our date, but I also really don't want to. Because I totally respect that you don't want to rush into anything, but I don't want it to be over."

Emma very much understood the sentiment. "Unfortunately, Mrs. Clemmons is probably going to peek out into the hallway to snap at loiterers any minute now."

The laugh that Regan let out was loud and full-bodied, and – in a feeling Emma had become increasingly familiar with – made her feel proud for causing it. "You're right."

Even though Emma knew it needed to happen, Regan sliding her hands away from Emma and dropping them heavily to her sides made her feel absurdly cold. Reluctantly, she removed her hands from Regan, as well, even though she knew that she'd still feel the phantom sensation of Regan's thigh under her hand for the rest of the night.

They slowly meandered the rest of the way to their door, lingering outside as Emma took her keys out of her pocket. "So, uh, I'd invite you inside," she started, clearing her throat as she sent Regan a conspiratorial smile. "But I have a roommate who recently told me that if I brought home a prospective new partner, she'd rip their hair out. You have really beautiful hair, though, and I'd hate to see anything happen to it."

Regan smiled, entirely unashamed. "I appreciate it. She sounds a little unhinged, though; you should be careful."

Emma shrugged. "Ehhh, you know, I've really come around to her."