Page 117 of The Snowball Effect

Just wanted to let you know that I made some soup for dinner. I put some away for you – don’t pick anything up on your way home

Unless you don’t want soup. Then you should pick something up for dinner on your way home

Regan’s stomach burst to life with those crazy strong butterflies. Emma made her soup for dinner!

She didn’t want to go out with everyone from work when Emma was at home with soup. She wanted to curl up on the couch and listen to Emma tell her about the rest of her day. She wanted to watch a movie or a show and listen to the way Emma commented as if she weren’t totally invested.

Which was precisely why she hadn’t gone out with her work friends in weeks, she realized, gripping her phone tightly.

Because every offer of plans with anyone else felt so… unappealing when it was put up against the idea of going home and hanging out with Emma. Or going out to dinner with Emma. Oranythingwith Emma.

Regan just hadn’t noticed what she was doing before now.

Fuck.

That wasn’t what purely platonic friends did! They didn’t plan as much of their availability around one another as they possibly could, because being around each other felt addictive and fun and justbetterthan being around other people.

Regan’s heart leapt in her chest. Oh, boy.

So, she did what she’d have done if Sutton was currently living with her – what she’d do with someone that was strictly a friend.

Regan – 8:08PM

Hey roomie! I’m totally looking forward to that soup. But I’m going to be home a little late tonight bc I’m going out with some friends from work. See you later and DON’T watch more of our show(s) without me!!!

Humming under her breath in a way that was maybe a liiiittle off-beat, Regan giggled to herself as she scraped her key into the lock.

Only to pout at the keys when the dumb thing didn’t actually turn! Why did keys all look so similar, anyway? Who made that design choice?!

“The real question is who allowed other keys to fit in a lock that they don’t open. What the hell is that about,” she muttered, yanking her key ring away from the door before frowning down at them in her hand.

Andwhydid she have so many keys?!

“That’s the best question,” she affirmed for herself, squinting at them all. “Lit-tle keys, lit-tle keys, which one fits in my door?” She sang her song to the tune ofrow, row, row your boat, before chuckling at herself all over again.

Leaning her forehead against the cool wood, she braced herself against the door and took a little break from the arduous process of finding the right key – a task that occasionally took more than one try when shehadn’thad anything to drink.

A second later, her balance was completely ruined, as the door opened. With her weight braced against it, the door actuallyflewopen, and Regan yelped in alarm.

She flailed her arms as she fell forward, already closing her eyes and bracing for impact…

Only to crash into something much better than the floor. Someone, more aptly. Someonemuch softer and warmer, who smelled so good…

“Emma,” she identified, delighted with the new turn of events.

Regan contentedly leaned heavily into Emma, who let out a surprised grunt in her ear as her arms wrapped quickly around Regan’s waist to catch her.

“Woah! Jesus. Are you okay?” Emma asked, her warm breath washing over the side of Regan’s face, making her shiver.

Regan grinned, nodding against Emma and reveling in the softness of Emma’s shirt brushing against her cheek. “Tot-ally good. Yep.”

Indeed, she was really, really okay in this moment. This was great!

Emma huffed out a quiet laugh. So quiet that Regan wasn’t sure she’d have been able to hear it if she weren’t pressed right up against Emma like this.

Which, logically, meant that sheshouldspend as much time as possible pressing against Emma. Right? Because Regan wanted to hear all of her little laughs and sighs and sounds.

At least, it was logical to her tipsy mind.

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