Page 115 of The Snowball Effect

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

“I would expect nothing less from you.”

“No more questions, okay? I don’t want to miss Chelsea picking Samantha.”

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

And so irritatingly, charmingly, Regan.

seventeen

“Youhaveto come out with us tonight,” Beth called to Regan from across the back room at Topped Off.

“Oh, Ihaveto?” Regan teased back, reaching for her large purse after she hung her apron up in her locker. She pawed through her bag, making sure that her keys, wallet, and phone were all in sight – there was absolutely nothing worse than leaving work and getting all the way back home, only to realize that she’d left one of her essentials at the café.

Which, unfortunately, had happened to Regan more times than she’d like to admit.

Satisfied that she had everything, she reached in and grabbed her phone. She usually kept it secured in her back pocket during her shifts, as it was always handy to answer messages when a brief lull hit. Or to take a silly picture. Or to leave herself quick reminders about scheduling, or observations about coffee blends or pastries.

Or to text Emma.

Which, admittedly, was what Regan was doing more than anything, these days. And was the main reason she’d made herself leave her phone in her locker after her break a few hours ago.

Regan had never before had a problem ignoring the vibrations against her butt cheek signaling a new text when there was an influx of customers needing attention. Shedidhave a work ethic. She also had a love for tips.

She’d found, though, that it was very, very hard for her to ignore when Emma texted her, even when she was facing a line of customers. It was addictive; what was Emma saying, now?! Had Regan made her laugh with her last quippy – if she did say so herself – message?

And she was so, so relieved that Emma hadn’t turned away from their friendship or shut Regan out after the Couch Kiss Debacle of last week.

Regan really did consider herself lucky that they were both totally normal, post-kiss. After all, it wasn’t like Regan was super familiar with what to do in this situation, either! The only people she’d ever been super attracted to and kissed were guys she was dating or wanting to sleep with, never a friend. Never someone she cared about, beyond a sex/dating sphere.

She could see it going so terribly, horribly wrong in her head. Emma getting the wrong idea – that Regan was, like, uncontrollably, unstoppably in love with her or something – and putting an end to their closeness.

But, nope. Emma seemed to have been able to act like the kiss had never happened. In the last six days, they’d slipped back into this rhythm they’d seemed to have found, and that wasgreat.

Really.

Okay, the only thing that maybe wasn’t super great was that Regan couldn’t slip into normalcy with the ease Emma seemed to be able to.

It really made no sense, right? Because Regan considered herself to be an amazing friend! Being a friend came to her as easily as breathing. After all, she’d spent most of her life with herbiggest defining quality beingSutton’s best friend. Could she be a little exuberant? Perhaps. A little dramatic? Sometimes.

But if there was one thing Regan never, ever doubted about herself – no matter how poorly she did in school or what her parents said – it was that she was a damn good friend.

So, it really made no sense that Regan had to remind herself that she was just Emma’s totally platonicfriendmultiple times in the last few days.

It’s what she told herself in the aftermath of the kiss, when Emma seemed so freaked out. There was no other word for it – freaked out really summed up the look on Emma’s face. While Regan really wished that hadn’t been the expression on Emma’s face in the minutes after they’d shared the most thrilling first kiss of Regan’s life, there was no denying it.

And after she’d listened to Emma’s side of everything, Regan came around to Emma’s way of thinking… generally. Mostly, she agreed that having an attraction didn’t have to mean anything more. They were friends that were attracted to each other. Big deal! She really liked place they were in. She did have fun with Emma and all of her acerbic, dry commentary and the way she got really into reality television even though she’d been so reluctant to watch it in the first place. She didn’t want any of that to change, that was all the truth.

So, in that regard, yeah. They could absolutely just be normal friends, still.

Yet, she’d had to remind herself of that fact again only two days later. When she’d texted EmmaI don’t know how I’m going to make it through this shift without my head exploding from this migraine. Please come and collect my remains, I want to be sprinkled in the apartment.

Emma’s response in text had been simple –… like, your ashes or the remains of your literally exploded skull? I’m going to have to check the lease before I comply.

But when Regan had returned home, Emma had picked them both up dinner from the Italian place that Regan had found weeks ago, recommended by an influencer she followed. She’d sent Emma the post, telling her:We should go here sometime – it’s close to your work I think!

Emma had then lit candles to keep the living room in low light, informing Regan in a soothing voice, “I get migraines sometimes, too. Just, relax.”

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