Chapter 24

twenty-four

Emma was definitely not babysitting her sisters the night after her date with Regan because she was nervous to be alone with Regan in their apartment.

Only, maybe she was. A little bit.

Granted, she was also doing it to help out her gram, which made her feel a lot better and a whole lot less crazy about the whole thing.

When she'd been winding down at work earlier, her grandmother had reached out to her. She'd informed Emma that there was an emergency at the women's shelter Kimberly ran, and that Kimberly was going to need to be on-site to manage it. Ted was out of town for work, and Kimberly had asked – apologetically, her gram was sure to tell her – if Gram could watch the girls this evening. Apparently, Kimberly had sounded very stressed, and she'd assured that she would manage to get Eva and Everly to Astoria "somehow" before getting to the shelter, so that Gram wouldn't need to figure out transport to New Jersey.

Gram, being Gram, had agreed to watch her grandchildren – coming as no surprise.

But she'd tentatively asked Emma if Emma would mind "being on-call" tonight, because, " It makes me a little ashamed to admit it, Em, but you know it's been a long time since I've been in charge of watching any kiddos on my own. But I remember how tiring it was, even before my… health issues. "

Emma had frowned, disliking the idea of her gram possibly being run-down – especially as it had been less than a week since her heat exhaustion at the birthday party.

Her discomfort at that had warred with her discomfort at the offer to babysit, herself. Because she barely knew Eva and Everly, and in the limited time she'd spent with them, Emma hadn't figured out the magic trick to feeling some sort of sisterly bond.

Then, though, then… Emma thought about what her night might potentially look like, at home.

No, she didn't have any plans tonight. But neither did Regan. In fact, according to the calendar on the fridge, Regan was off from work by two in the afternoon and had tomorrow off.

So, ostensibly, the evening would just be the two of them.

Alone.

In their apartment, together.

She'd had no intention of taking things so far last night – after literally only one date! A date she was still trying to wrap her mind around – and they hadn't even gotten back to their apartment until almost eleven PM! She was very, very uncertain about what situation they'd find themselves in if they spent the entire night in closed quarters together, especially now that this chemistry between them had burst to life in screaming color.

Emma had put herself in a real pickle by volunteering to go to New Jersey and watch her sisters, though, because she'd immediately known she'd need Regan to join her.

No way in hell could she do it alone, without her. She didn't even want to try. That, alone, had been a jarring realization.

And, of course, Regan had gamely jumped on board.

Which was how Emma found herself sitting next to Regan on the couch in Kimberly's house, as they neared the end of The Game of Life with Eva and Everly. Everly had been the one to announce – as soon as they'd walked in – that it was board game night, and Emma had learned in the last two hours that board game night literally meant a night full of board games.

"Aha! Got another kiddo to put in the back of my car." Regan hummed in excitement, as she added a little pink "person" into her plastic van. "What do you want to name this one?" She asked Emma, fluttering her eyelashes, as she leaned into her.

Emma rolled her eyes, pushing back into Regan. It didn't push her away and, instead, it left them leaning heavily into one another, and she felt the entire side of her body tingle pleasantly with the connection.

She didn't know what to make of it, what to make of Regan. What to make of these feelings. What to make of… this. She certainly didn't think that she'd be figuring it out here, under the watchful eyes of her little sisters, in her mother's house, though.

"I want to know why you're so excited about adding kids to your van when you're, like, two turns away from retirement," Emma countered, gesturing to where Regan was on the board.

"Some grandparents raise kids," Eva muttered from where she sat on the opposite side of the coffee table. "I figured you would know that."

Emma pursed her lips as she narrowed her eyes at her sister. It was far from the first comment she'd made like that since Emma had arrived a couple of hours ago, and it was getting more difficult to ignore them.

"My turn!" Everly announced excitedly, pushing herself up to spin the dial.

Emma nodded encouragingly at her youngest sister as she counted out the spaces to move, and Everly beamed back at her, proudly.

Okay, so managing Everly was a lot easier than Eva. Emma could really appreciate that tonight.

She reached out and spun the wheel for her own turn, before landing on a space and receiving a "life event" card to read aloud.

"Your newest book release was a success," she read from the card. "Collect fifty-thousand dollars."

"I always knew you could do it," Regan's voice was jovial and light and teasing, but she squeezed her hand where it sat on Emma's thigh, and that sensation was very, very real.

Every brush against Regan's body made Emma think, without fail, about last night. About the sounds Regan had made while she'd orgasmed, about how she'd described – without an ounce of shame – what she'd been thinking about. What she'd wanted to do to and with Emma.

"Yeah, you get everything. Yay," Eva's voice cut in, scoffing with such gusto in a way only a preteen could.

Eva's comments had served a purpose, Emma supposed. Before she could get too caught up in any inappropriate thoughts about Regan, before any actual heat could take hold, her sister's acerbic statements cut straight to the quick.

So, that was good. That was exactly why she was here.

Only… being here also meant she was facing this ire from Eva all night. Truly, a double-edged sword.

"Ooookay," Regan muttered under her breath, shooting a glance at Emma as she darted her eyes toward Eva in silent acknowledgement. "I'm going to cut the brownies we cooked earlier. Does anyone need anything?"

Everly popped up in excitement. "I want to help! Can I help?"

Regan laughed, using the hand she had on Emma's thigh to push herself up.

Even that , the pressure from that innocuous touch, made Emma shiver and reaffirm that she had very much done the right thing by coming here tonight. By giving them a little… distraction.

"All right, kiddo, then let's hit it. But to be clear, I'm the one holding the knife," Regan commented.

"I never get to use a knife," Everly mumbled, sighing heavily, as she led the way out of the room.

"We all have our battles," Regan's sympathetic response came, making Emma grin as she stared after them.

"Ugh," Eva's quiet, disdainful sound grabbed Emma's attention.

Again – it was a good thing , cutting through this insane attraction and infatuation with Regan that seemed to be multiplying by the minute, now that Emma had allowed it out of the cage she'd kept it locked in.

But, still, she couldn't help the narrow-eyed look she shot at her sister. "What?"

Eva stared back at her, unwavering. "That look on your face. It's so sappy and…." She rolled her eyes, before muttering, "Whatever."

Emma rolled her lips, and told herself that it was fine. Eva could say whatever little comments she wanted to say; she was twelve. Emma wasn't going to confront a child.

And yet… all of these looks and the remarks – that she'd been on the receiving end of all summer – hit on something, inside of Emma. They bothered her. They mattered to her, in a way she hadn't anticipated.

With that in mind, she braced herself and asked, "Look, Eva, can you just tell me, if I've done something to you? There's clearly something going on, here, and–"

"I just don't like you. That's all," Eva cut her off, throwing Emma a pouty look.

Taken aback, Emma felt the remainder of whatever she'd been going to say completely disappear. She hadn't known a comment like that would cut so deep, either, but she felt the sharpness of it inside of her. "Ah… okay."

For a few awkward moments of silence, she wondered if she should just accept that. Eva was her own person; she had the right to feel however she felt.

Maybe, a couple of months ago, she would have left if alone.

But not now.

Because now, Emma felt the niggling need to push for more. It was a very different phenomenon for her, but she went with it.

"Can I ask why? What have I done to you?"

Because Emma was at a total loss. She wracked her brain, trying to think of anything she could have possibly–

"Nothing," Eva spit back, heatedly. "You haven't done anything . You've never done anything to want to be a part of our family, and Mom still acts like you're the center of the stupid universe."

Shocked by the honesty, vitriol, and the words themselves, Emma could only stare across the table.

It seemed like all Eva had been waiting for was Emma to give her an opening. "You never came to visit us in Miami. You never came to any birthday parties or Christmases or anything . I looked in Mom's Emma Box, and she invited you to everything we ever did! And you never came."

"Her Emma Box?" She repeated, still trying to make some sense of this.

"Yeah. The box of everything about you that she keeps in her closet. And it includes little notes about every party and holiday and stuff that she's invited you to, and why you said you couldn't come," Eva explained, glowering at Emma. "We moved here so she could be close to you, and you still didn't even come over for months ! You don't even care about our mom, and she still loves you the most!"

"That's not true," Emma immediately rejected the idea, reeling back as she shook her head. "She loves you and Everly more than anything; you have to know that."

Eva's bottom lip stuck out in a haughty pout as she sniffed angrily and angled her jaw up, and, wow .

Emma's stomach twisted with a feeling she didn't quite understand or recognize, but – this girl was her sister. That stubborn set of her jaw and the way her blue eyes glinted up at Emma with that attitude… Emma saw herself, there. She saw herself so clearly, it was startling.

"Fine," Eva snapped. "She loves us. But – but did you know that we only have our names because of you? Eva and Everly . She told my dad that she wanted to have something that tied all of her kids together, and she'd already used her favorite name on you. So, she picked E names for us, too. Did you know that?" She insisted, clearly not intending for the question to be rhetorical.

Emma blinked back, her stomach twisting in knots with the information. "I didn't," she admitted, quietly.

"And it's not even just Mom!" Eva hit the palm of her hand against the table, clearly worked up. "Gram also thinks you're perfect. She's my gram, too, but she loves you the most. And you don't – you don't even care ."

Eva crossed her arms so tightly over herself, and Emma could tell she was holding herself together even as all of these clearly deep-seated feelings unraveled.

Emma had never once really seen herself reflected in her sisters in anything beyond the occasional physical resemblance, but she did right now. The pent-up frustration, the uncertain emotions flashing over Eva's face. The certainty that she knew everything.

Emma really felt that resonating inside of her. Spiraling through her veins, as she stared in awe across the table. This girl – this stubborn, grumpy twelve-year-old girl – was her sister . She was a part of her, in a ways Emma hadn't ever known they'd shared.

"I do care." Emma's voice was soft, and she'd never felt connected to Eva before in any way, but right now, she did.

Sitting here, with a board game about fake lives between them, she understood her little sister.

She didn't agree with her, but… life really was all a matter of perspective. And Emma didn't know if that had ever been more apparent to her than right now.

Other than, maybe, with Regan.

"I do care about you, and Everly. And our mom. And I care – a lot – about what Gram thinks about me." Emma reached up, scrubbing her hand over her face, as she tried to work through everything in her mind. As she tried to figure out how to sort out the complicated feelings inside of her. As she tried to figure out what made sense to discuss with her much younger sister, and what wasn't appropriate.

Ultimately, though, Emma found herself shrugging, heavily.

"I'm just going to be real with you, Eva, because I don't want to talk to you like you're a baby, and I don't know how else to say this, but – your relationship with our mom is very different than mine is." There. That made sense.

Eva rolled her eyes back at her, but didn't immediately shoot back a retort, so Emma pushed on.

"Honestly, I don't know how much Mom has told you about her life before you were born. About my life, when I was younger." She paused, again wondering how much was acceptable to say.

Because, in a shocking twist of events, she felt a little protective over Kimberly, right now. She really didn't know how much Eva and Everly knew about Kimberly's life, pre-Ted. And the reality Emma was facing in a rapid turn of events, was that… she didn't want to ruin the image Eva likely had.

Their mom had done a lot of work to get to the place she was in, now. Emma had a lot of issues with Kimberly, but she knew that without a doubt. She'd gotten her GED, gone to college, she'd started working at women's shelters. She'd become a model PTA parent. Maybe she hadn't been able to do that for Emma, but she'd done it for her little sisters, and Emma – she respected it. She was proud of her.

Eva's jaw was still set in a hard line, as she shrugged. "I know enough."

Emma couldn't help but roll her eyes, even as she felt her lips tick into a small, exasperated grin. Yep. This girl was her fucking sister.

"So, if you know enough , then you know that I lived with Gram. And you know that Mom wasn't… the same parent for me that she is for you," she spoke carefully, knowing she was toeing a line. "And honestly, Eva? Growing up, that wasn't always the easiest thing for me to deal with. So, that's why I didn't accept the invitations to holidays and birthdays."

Whew. God, saying that aloud to Eva was surprisingly… freeing, in a way.

Eva still frowned at her, but it was filled with slightly less anger. At least, Emma thought so.

"And Gram doesn't love me more than she loves you, either." Emma wouldn't – couldn't – not jump in to defend their gram in this. "But she was the one that did my birthday parties and Christmases. So… the relationship I have with her is always going to be a little different than the one you have with her. But it's not because she thinks I'm perfect; it's because she was – in most ways – my mom."

She stared intently across the table, hoping that she wasn't laying too much out for her sister. Hoping that she wasn't triggering a minefield in this situation and making it any worse, for anyone.

Eva's frown slowly melted into much more of a pout. "Do you not like me and Everly?" She asked, quietly, tilting her head at Emma. "Or is it just Mom?"

Oof . The quiet vulnerability in those questions packed far more of a punch than Emma had been prepared for.

"I just don't know you all that well," she answered, honestly. "And I meant what I said, before: I really do care about you both. And I care about Mom. It's just… hard," she admitted, her voice cracking unexpectedly on the word.

A little embarrassed, she cleared her throat and continued, "It's hard for me, too, sometimes. You see me and Gram being close, being a family that you don't feel like a part of, and it makes you feel badly. Right?"

Eva slowly nodded, dipping her gaze down to the board game as she reached out and toyed with her plastic van, idly. Looking a little embarrassed, herself, admitting vulnerable feelings.

"Sometimes… sometimes, it made me feel badly, to see you and Everly and our mom and your dad, as a family that I don't feel like a part of."

Eva swallowed as she pouted her bottom lip thoughtfully, staring down at the board game. "Does it still make you feel bad? To see us?"

Emma felt the question land, deep in her stomach, and she sat back as she mulled it over. She looked around the den, belonging to a happy little family that played board games and had movie nights – a family she was a part of, but not fully.

And while she still had a tug of that feeling she'd had a couple of months ago, the first time she'd come over here, she didn't feel sick from it. Her stomach clenched a little, but she didn't feel like she needed to cry or run away.

"A little bit," she admitted, softly. "But less than it did, before. And… I'd like to get to a place where it doesn't feel badly, at all."

She was surprised at the words coming out of her own mouth, but they were the utter truth. Somewhere along the line, she'd started to let this in as a reality, and it didn't make her want to die.

Eva blinked up at her, her eyebrows furrowed deeply. As if she was trying to assess how much she could trust Emma.

Emma felt that was fair; she didn't trust easily, either.

"Well… I wouldn't hate if you came to dinner more, then." Eva shrugged once more, the look in her eyes a little brighter. "Especially if you keep bringing Regan."

A loud cough from the far side of the room drew both of their attention, as Regan rounded the corner. She had a plate of brownies in one hand, with a few bottles of water tucked into the crook of her arm, and Everly skipped in behind her, already munching on a brownie.

"Dessert is served!" Regan announced, as she set the plate down with a flourish.

Emma felt like she'd run a marathon in the last five minutes, and she leaned heavily back against the couch cushions.

She didn't know if she was relieved or not to be interrupted before she found herself confessing to her twelve-year-old sister that she wasn't sure she'd ever want to leave Regan behind.

Emma yawned, widely, as she walked back into the den after triple-checking to make sure Everly was really in bed for the night.

If she'd wanted something tonight to help her see a similarity to Everly, it had come in the form of her doggedness to want to stay up as late as possible, telling Emma how much she hated waking up early in the morning.

Her footsteps came to a pause as her gaze landed on Regan.

Specifically, Regan's ass. As Regan was bent over across the room at the built-in shelves, organizing the mess of board games that had been picked over throughout the night.

Emma drew in a deep, calming breath through her nose, before alerting Regan to her presence. "I feel very grateful for my years of babysitting experience."

Regan didn't immediately straighten up – much to Emma's damnation. Rather, she sent Emma a look over her shoulder, dark eyes glinting from interest. "You were a babysitter?"

"Number one trusted call for everyone in my building, all throughout high school." Emma used her thumbs to point at herself. She tilted her head at Regan, curiously. "Did you babysit?"

Now – thankfully – Regan stood up and turned to look at her, incredulously. "Emma. Do you think people trusted me to babysit?"

"A couple of months ago, I'd say a resounding no, with a laugh for good measure," she agreed, easily, before she bit at her bottom lip and slowly shook her head. "Now, though, I'd say you're a far more trustworthy source than people think. More trustworthy than you let on, actually," she added on, speaking slowly.

But it was the truth, now that she really thought about it.

Regan played into being chaotic and flighty, and maybe she was – to an extent. But she noticed everything , and she was the best listener Emma had ever known.

Before she could push into that even deeper – and she very much wanted to – Regan shrugged. "Yeah, well, I also didn't know a lot of people with young kids. Anyway, back to the point here: I'm sure you've never run into the conversation you had with Eva while you were babysitting someone else?"

Regan's voice was light, tentative. She wasn't pushing, but the look in her eyes was hopeful, clearly eager to see if Emma would share with her.

Surprised, Emma's eyebrows lifted high on her forehead. "You could hear us?"

"Not the whole thing," Regan assured her, shaking her head. "I'd looped back to see if you two wanted something to drink and overheard… a little. So, I skedaddled back to the kitchen. I tried to give you a little longer, but Everly was rearing to get back to the game, and I'd distracted her as long as I could in the kitchen. That's why I announced myself so clearly."

Emma breathed out a sigh, trying desperately to hold onto her sanity. Any semblance of sanity, really, that kept her from doing what she now desperately wanted to do. To walk closer to Regan, to be close enough to breathe her in.

With that sanity, she kept her hands tightly pressed to her sides, and stayed across the room from Regan.

Even if her sisters were no longer awake, they were still in the house. They were all in Kimberly's house.

There.

That thought served Emma a little dose of reality. Great.

"You're right, I've definitely never had that intense of a conversation with anyone else I've babysat," she agreed, warily, tugging her hand through her hair. "But… I think it was good."

She wouldn't say she believed she and Eva were going to be super close, immediately. Maybe ever – Emma couldn't read the future like that. But what she did know was that after they'd talked, Eva's eyerolls and comments seemed a lot more like a typical preteen and less like someone that hated Emma's guts.

So, that was a positive.

Regan's smile was so soft, so coaxing, Emma felt reeled into it. "Look at you, Emma Mystery-Middle-Name Bordeaux."

Rolling her lips, determined not to give into the smile that wanted to slide onto her face, Emma shook her head. "Yeah, I'm still not going to tell you."

Regan's mouth fell open in offense and she crossed her arms over her chest. "Emma! I took you on a date that you ranked as a twelve out of ten, and you still won't tell me your middle name?!"

She shook her head, unfailingly entertained by Regan even as she was charmed by her. The reminder of the damn date…

Regan seemed to perk up a second later, and she slowly tilted her head. "So… if you don't want to talk about your middle name, then why don't we address the elephant in the room?"

"The elephant?" She echoed, leaning back against the doorway and making herself comfortable there.

It was wiser, she thought, to stay here. Rather than potentially be convinced to sit next to Regan, where they would inevitably be right in each other's personal space, and Emma would inevitably find herself wanting.

Regan seemed to have none of the same concerns of keeping space between them, as she slowly started walking closer. "Emma. Are you going to pretend that you offering to babysit your sisters – for the first time ever – the literal day after we spent the night together is just a coincidence?"

Emma could only stare at Regan, her mouth falling open slightly at the sheer indignance. Because, "How do you do that? How?" She demanded to know.

That, at least, made Regan pause, leaving a solid four feet of space between them, still. "Do what?"

Emma tossed her hands in the air, exasperated. "How do you read me so well?"

"Oh." Regan shrugged, watching Emma intently. "I mean… it's not hard, I guess? You might think you're a closed book, Emma, but I think I have your number."

"I think you do, too," she agreed, distressingly.

"So, are you going to do us both a favor and admit that you were having us babysit so that you could pull back from what we started last night?" Regan pushed, that edge of raw honesty in her tone cutting right into Emma, right to the heart of everything.

Emma felt her heart thud in her chest, as she slowly shook her head. "I did ," she admitted. "But – not because I'm trying to pull back from you. Or from this." She gestured between the two of them.

Regan's expression slid into something sweetly surprised. "Really?"

"Really," she confirmed, swallowing thickly, before she explained, "I'm just trying to figure out how to put some brakes on this – on us – so that we don't go careening forward too fast."

Regan took another step closer to her. Then another. And the look on her face, as she peered up at Emma was so gentle , in a way no one had ever looked at her before. "Will it make you feel better if I swear to you that I won't jump your bones when we're alone in our apartment? I know it might not seem like it," a self-deprecating smile flashed over Regan's face. "But I can control myself a little bit–"

"It's not you I'm worried about," Emma cut in, her cheeks burning with the truth.

That, again, stopped Regan in her tracks. Those gorgeous, dark eyes widened as her mouth fell open with surprise, and the gleam of excitement was clear. "Emma–"

"I'm worried about me ," she added, even though she knew Regan already understood the unspoken implication. But Emma needed to say it. She had to get this out. "I want you, Regan. I'm the one that answered your text last night. I'm the one that didn't hang up the phone. And I'm the one that came into your room, after. It's not you I'm worried about."

Emma had never in her life been someone that didn't have some control over herself.

But that had been exactly how she'd felt when she'd gone into her room, post-date. She'd felt the ghost of Regan's hips rolling needily against hers while they'd kissed. She'd felt that kiss, burning through her. She'd felt… god, she'd felt so wanted and wanting in equal measure.

Emma had done very, very well to keep Regan from entering into her dirtiest, neediest thoughts. But the dam was had been officially broken, and she'd touched herself – feeling so wet, her clit so achingly hard – with a fervor she'd never had before.

She'd never been so turned on in her fucking life as she'd been when she'd come for Regan, and she'd felt desperate for more when Regan had orgasmed – loud and unashamed – for her. She hadn't even known what the hell she'd been thinking when she'd hung up their call and hurriedly gotten out of bed and went to get Regan a glass of water.

All she'd known was that she needed to actually, physically, see Regan after that.

"Do you regret last night? Either the sex or coming to sleep with me?" Regan asked, her voice an octave lower than before, and raspy. So raspy, it made Emma shiver.

And she found she couldn't be anything other than truthful, as she shook her head. "No. I don't regret it."

She'd tried. This morning, after she'd woken up with her face buried in Regan's soft, dark hair because of her alarm blaring in her ear – she'd tried. She'd told herself all morning at work that they'd moved too fast. That this wasn't the right thing.

But she didn't actually feel that way, and she was so, so tired of trying to pull herself back from Regan.

"This is all really new for me. Yes, I've been in a serious relationship, before. But it wasn't – it didn't feel like this," she could hear her own desperation in her voice. "It didn't feel so consuming. I didn't think about her all of the time. I didn't feel this need to check my phone to see if she texted. I didn't count down the time in my head until we were going to see one another, again. And it's crazy, because I've been doing all of those things for you, for far longer than the last few days."

There it was. The utter, most honest truth she had for Regan.

"You are so honest with the way you feel, Regan, that it blows me away. Oh, you're attracted to me? Well, then, you kiss me. Oh, you realize you have feelings for me? Well, then, you confess it to me. Oh, you want to know what it's like to be with me? Well, then you take me out on an incredible date and make it impossible for me to think straight. Do you know how crazy that is, conceptually, to me?" Emma demanded, needing Regan to understand. To see how different they were, how baffling she was to Emma.

"Do you not… like it?" Regan asked so quietly, uncertainly, as she bit the inside of her cheek.

Emma scoffed, scrubbing her hands roughly over her face. "I like it," she informed Regan, her voice gravelly. "I like it, and you, far too much. I liked waking up with you this morning. I liked going to sleep with you last night. I love how forthright you are, how you never make me wonder what's on your mind. How you never make me question where you stand or how you feel or what you think. It's never been my experience in dating, and I love it."

The wide, unabridged smile that broke over Regan's face was breathtaking, and she walked even closer to Emma. "Good, because I love it, too. I love that I can be my whole self with you, and I never hold back, and it's never been my experience, either! But I think it's a good thing. A really good thing."

"It is," she agreed. "But it's also something that makes me think – how soon is too soon? How are we possibly going to keep our wits about us when we're in such close quarters in our own apartment, all alone?"

Emma was entirely unsure if she could . Even now, in her mother's house, with her little sisters upstairs, she stared at Regan and she craved to be closer.

The sight of Regan – even the thought of her – filled Emma with this intense, needy feeling.

Not just her body, not just a sexually needy sensation – though, there was that, too. But something deeper, a place Emma had never really explored, before. Not even in the years she'd been in a relationship with Felicity. It made her feel giddy and excited and nervous, and like she couldn't wait for more.

Somehow, Regan had done this to her. She'd figured out how to slip into Emma's life and infiltrate all of her privacy settings.

Pressing herself back against the wall in a way that was reminiscent of her response to their first kiss, Emma shook her head. "Hence, the babysitting."

"You wanted little cockblocks around so that we didn't tear each other's clothing off," Regan surmised in the most Regan way possible.

Emma chuckled, unable to deny, "Yeah. Exactly."

Regan hummed quietly under her breath. "Okay, well, why don't we both just agree that we won't do anything – when it comes to sex – without checking in with each other about it, in-depth, first? You know, like, we can both keep each other in check. Make sure we're only doing what we think we're ready for?"

She took another step closer, leaving the distance between them only inches, as she clasped her hands behind her back and tilted her head up at Emma.

"I don't want to rush into anything with you. I just want to keep doing what we're doing," Regan's tone was so earnest, so open, and the sigh it elicited from Emma trembled out of her.

"I do, too," she agreed in a whisper. "We just… we have to be smart about it. We share the apartment and Sutton, and I still need us to make sure those things don't implode."

"Totally agreed," Regan promised, digging her teeth into her bottom lip as she rocked forward on her toes, pushing even closer… closer into Emma.

Their bodies brushed ever so slightly, Regan's chest pushing against Emma's, and Emma dropped her head heavily back against the wall.

"Regan," she breathed in warning or encouragement or… she didn't even know anymore.

"My hands are behind my back," Regan murmured back, her breath washing over Emma's neck, and the sensation made her shiver. "I'm not touching you. I'm not even going to ask if you want to sit on the couch, lest anything get too hot and heavy."

There it was. That tone Regan had, that made Emma so wet, so quickly.

"But haven't you ever made out while you were babysitting, before? Isn't that, like, a classic move?" Regan asked, remaining in that exact position. Brushing her body just so against Emma's, just enough to feel teasingly close, but not leaning in and giving her anything more. Anything substantial.

That unstoppable heat slid through her, and she shook her head as she grit out, "Nope. I believe that's the classic move for what not to do when you're babysitting, actually."

"Mm," Regan hummed, flicking her tongue out and licking her insanely full lips. "Right. Guess that's why I never got the job."

"Regan," she breathed again, unsure of what her tone conveyed other than a needy whine.

Somehow, Emma felt okay with that.

"I'm not going to kiss you. I want to kiss you," Regan husked out. "Because I've been unable to think about anything other than you since I woke up this morning. But if you want to kiss me, then I need to know it's what you really want. Because I don't want to have a repeat of last night, if you're going to try to put distance between us, after. I–"

Emma couldn't help it. Every breath that Regan exhaled, every word she spoke, washed over Emma and made this need inside of her grow higher and hotter.

It was fine, she assured herself, as she leaned down and captured Regan's perfect mouth with her own.

They weren't even on the couch, true to Regan's word. How caught up could they get if they didn't settle into a bed or a couch or even a chair?

Very.

They could get very caught up in one another.

Emma had made no such promise to keep her hands to herself, and she hadn't even registered when she'd moved them down to land on Regan's hips. She didn't recall any conscious thought to work them under Regan's t-shirt to feel her soft, warm skin.

She definitely didn't remember making the decision to slide her hands down even further so that she could cup Regan's ass in her palms. She didn't remember the decision to do so, but she'd done it.

And it felt so good . Regan's firm butt under her hands, as Regan writhed against her. Emma was still pressed solidly against the wall – leaning, really, as Regan leaned her entire body into Emma's.

Regan's hands hadn't remained behind her back, but Emma couldn't fault her for it. Not when she'd been the first one to touch, and definitely not when it felt so fucking good to feel Regan's hands on her.

Her deft, nimble fingers that had jerked Emma's shirt out of her slacks – she was still wearing the same clothing she'd worn to work – and slid up Emma's sides, before scratching to her back. Unsurprisingly, Regan's hands never stayed in one place for too long.

Neither did her mouth. Her tongue moved actively and insistently against Emma's, seeming to want to explore every part of Emma's mouth. She traced over Emma's teeth, the seam of her lips, the tip of her tongue. She worked those impeccably plush lips over Emma's bottom one, sucking it between her own.

And now, she was working insistently at Emma's neck. She'd dragged her lips down Emma's neck, before moving to the other side to plant open-mouthed, wet kisses that were slowly driving Emma fucking crazy.

Her head was back against the wall, her mouth open as she panted out quiet sounds. Soft whimpers and choked-off moans, and –

"Oh, wow!" Kimberly's voice broke into the lust-addled haze that had fully clouded Emma's mind.

Her hands tightened on Regan's ass, before she hurriedly released her, dropping her hands listlessly to her sides. Regan's mouth on her neck froze, before she whipped her head up, and they both turned toward the large entryway.

Emma felt her cheeks burn as the mortification worked through her veins, dampening the arousal that was thrumming through her. "I… um…"

She could barely even catch her breath, still! What could she possibly say in her defense!

Regan's dark eyes looked glazed over and her pillowy lips were red and swollen, and – Emma immediately looked away, because looking at Regan when she looked like that was not good for her nervous system.

"And here I was, thinking you were a reliable babysitter; that's what your gram always proudly reported to me," Kimberly drawled, arching a look at Emma.

Guilt mixed with the embarrassment, and Emma dropped her head into her hands.

"Both Eva and Everly were up in bed before we did this!" Regan jumped in, somewhat helpfully. "We played board games all night; they'll vouch for us."

"I'm sorry," Emma finally managed to get out. She rolled her shoulders back and looked up at Kimberly, feeling the effects of this double-whammy.

Not only had she besmirched her perfect babysitting record, but she'd been caught by her mother making out like a teenager.

"I really am, I…" She trailed off, confusion taking over as she saw the wide smile on Kimberly's face.

"You don't need to apologize." Kimberly waved that off, clutching her purse with both hands as she grinned at Emma so excitedly, she'd almost think it was Christmas morning. "Emma Bo Bemma! I got to walk in and catch you making out with your girlfriend while you're babysitting your sisters?"

Her tone was awed, matching the way she perched one hand over her chest.

"I mean… I never thought I'd have this moment," she continued, and her eyes were so wide. Were there tears in them?! "And you felt so comfortable, to do it in my house?"

Regan let out a peel of laughter, before Emma saw her slap her hand over her mouth out of the corner of her eye. "Sorry. I just…" She cleared her throat, shaking back her hair. Which was a little tousled, because – apparently – Emma's hands had also worked through her hair, as well.

Emma couldn't believe the laughter she felt bubbling up inside, but there it was. She almost felt high, with the rush of endorphins and attraction still flooding through her, with the shock of being caught by Kimberly, and then the incredulity of her mom's reaction to this…

Yeah, she couldn't help but laugh at it, feeling her shoulders relax with it.

Kimberly sighed, staring at Emma like she'd made her dreams literally come true. "By all means, you can keep going. I won't interrupt again."

It made Emma laugh harder, even as she tried to get some control over herself. "Um, no. That's okay; we should go home."

"Well, if you ever need a place…" Kimberly shrugged, gesturing around them.

Emma couldn't believe her mother was offering her house as some sort of a hookup pad for her and Regan. She couldn't believe she'd actually just been walked in on by her mother. And, amidst it all, she didn't feel like she was going to be sick to her stomach.

She felt the tentative brush of Regan's fingers against the back of her hand, and she moved without thought to interlock their hands together.

"I think we're good. But thanks."