Page 119 of The Snowball Effect

Wait, what had she been thinking before?

Regan shook her head, dragging her gaze back up to Emma’s, feeling stricken. “Did I wake you up? Were you in bed? I was tryingreallyhard to be quiet!”

After all, it was… Regan squinted in thought. It was definitely almost midnight the last time she’d checked, a while ago.

But Emma shook her head. “No, you didn’t wake me up and I wasn’t in bed.” She reached out and gently nudged Regan to turn around, facing the direction of their kitchen. “Did you have dinner?”

“Um… no.” Had she? “Not unless a few chicken wings count.”

“The jury rules that they don’t. Come on, let’s get you some soup.” Emma brushed past her, leading her down the short hallway, through the archway into the kitchen.

“They were really good, though,” Regan insisted distractedly, her gaze falling to Emma’s butt.

Wow. In these shorts, she was so close to seeing Emma’s actual butt! The shorts were soshort, and they were so worn, it seemed like they were threadbare. Was Emma wearing underwear?

A heat she’d been so intent on avoiding all week long crept up. But she couldn’t help being attracted to Emma, right? Attraction was beyond her control; people couldn’t help who they were attracted to.

When Emma turned to face her with a mug of reheated soup in her hands, Regan blinked up at her in dazed shock. Had she really been caught up in staring at Emma forminutes?

Emma tilted her head toward the living room. “Dinner time. Let’s go.”

Regan trailed Emma, caught between feeling like she would diligently follow Emma anywhere, like a puppy, and worried that Emma felt obliged to take care of her.

Emma set down the soup on the coffee table, followed by a bottle of water that Regan hadn’t even noticed her carrying. “There’s also some ibuprofen that I took out about an hour ago, when you weren’t home yet. I figured you’d probably need it.”

“Emma,” Regan sighed out her name, and she wondered if it had ever sounded that way when she’d said it before. So… reverent. That’s how she felt, anyway. “You don’t have to do this, you know. I’m a big girl. I’ve come home after drinking at the bar with my friends and taken care of myself many times. Never died. Promise.”

She held up her hands to prove she wasn’t crossing any fingers.

“Obviously you haven’t died,” Emma dryly responded, before she shrugged and sat down on the couch. “Look, it’s not a big deal. Just some food – which I was making for myself – and water.”

Regan braced a hand on the couch as she kicked off her shoes, not taking her eyes off of Emma. Shecouldn’t; she felt like her stare was magnetized to her. She sat down next to her leaving scant inches between them, as she stared at the side of Emma’s face. “I appreciate it, though. I really, really do.”

“Sutton didn’t wait up for you?” Emma asked, turning ever so slightly to face Regan. “When you went out without her?”

She didn’t turn to face her completely, because they wereso close, but Regan’s stomach clenched just the same.

“No,” she answered, scoffing out a laugh. “Sutton hardly ever stays up until midnight! Are you kidding?”

She leaned forward to eat a spoonful of the soup, closing her eyes and moaning at the taste. “Emma!” She exclaimed as soon as her mouth wasn’t full. “This is amazing!”

“It’s chicken noodle soup, let’s not get too crazy.”

“It’s perfect.” Regan took a few more mouthfuls, before reaching for the ibuprofen and her water. Only once she’d downed the majority of the water bottle did she turn to fully face Emma.

And realized that not only was Emma in her bedtime clothing, but she also had one of the soft throw blankets she kept on her bed draped over her lap. The only light that illuminated the room was from the small lamp on the table next to the couch, casting Emma in a warm glow, and there was a book placed on the arm of the couch.

Regan liked to think that had she not been drinking, she’d have put all of this together minutes ago.

As it was…

“Were you staying up to wait for me?” She asked, and her heart flip-flopped with the question, as she stared at Emma and waited for the confirmation.

Emma tapped her fingertips against the spine of her book, her plush bottom lip poking out in a subconscious pout. “No. I was reading, like I do every night before bed.”

“But youneverdo it in the living room,” Regan countered, a breathless giddiness sliding through her. Emma had waited up for her!

And with that feeling, she maneuvered so that she was firmly against the back cushion of the couch, pressed completely against Emma’s side.

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