Until now. She granted herself permission to go into Emma’s room under this circumstance.
She shot Kimberly, who’d watched her charge down the hallway like a crazy woman, a smile before swiftly opening Emma’s door without so much as a knock.
“Oh,honey! Rise and shine!” She called out loud enough for Kimberly to hear her before closing the door with a sharpsnap.
Emma groaned from where she lay in her bed.
She was entirely wrapped up in her covers, cocooned tightly in her comforter, so only her head poked out at the top. Kinda cute, all wrapped up like a burrito.
Regan looked around the room, momentarily distracted from her mission.
All of Sutton’s belongings had been moved to storage, and Regan hadn’t gotten to look around after Emma had settled in from her move. Notreally.
Unsurprisingly, everything was neat and tidy. No clothing was on the floor or strewn over the desk chair or anything. The only furniture Emma had brought with her was her bed, a desk, and two bookshelves that were stuffed to the brim. Regan wasn’t actually sure she’d ever seen so many books crammed onto shelves; did Emma know about kindles? Oh, and there was a tall plant next to the window. That was a nice touch.
Emma’s sheets and pillowcases were a stone gray, and the duvet she was rolled up in like a burrito was a mint green. Cute neutrals.
She turned, taking in the room as a whole before her eyes landed on agiantcalendar on the wall. Regan gasped loudly, immediately walking over to it.
“Regan? What are you doing in my room?” Emma’s voice behind her was hoarse and raspy from sleep, and Regan found that she very much enjoyed the husky timber of it.
“Emma, do you literally have every second of your life planned on this calendar?” Regan asked, gesturing to the poster board-size calendar next to her.
Every single day was written for the month, with Emma’s clear and concise writing listingeverythingshe did. Holy shit.
“Do you know that we have the internet? You could do this in a magic little app on your phone and have it with you all of the time.”
“I like to have it written out where I can physically see it,” Emma grunted back, seemingly too tired to be aware that she would typically be livid at Regan for barging into her room like this.
It seemed she was more awake by the second, though. She pushed herself onto her elbows to face Regan across the room. “Is there an emergency? Is the building on fire?”
There was a look on Emma’s face, like she was torn between being preemptively annoyed with Regan for coming into her room and waking her up, and genuinely concerned there might be something horribly wrong.
Regan shrugged, dropping her hands to her waist. “You know, it’s kind of hard to say.”
Emma’s expression could not be less amused. “Regan, I swear–”
“I guess,” Regan swiftly cut in, sending Emma alook. “It all depends on what you call an emergency. See, there I was, minding my own business in our kitchen. Wearing my sleep shorts and ripped tank top – not fit for company, obviously.” She gestured to herself. “Drinking my coffee. Contemplating life. The normal things people do on the weekend. When there was a knock on my door.”
“Oh mygod.” Emma’s words came out on a whine as she fell back onto her mattress, bringing her hands up to cover her face. “I’m going to choose to believe that there’s not a fire out there, right? Please tell me you aren’t keeping us in here because of a fire.”
“No fire. Anyway,” Regan cleared her throat, and… she didn’t quite know at what point in the last couple of minutes her bafflement had mixed with entertainment, but she was highlyentertained now. “Imagine my surprise whenyour momknocks on the door.”
All of Emma’s agitation swiftly disappeared, as well as any lingering sleepiness. She sat straight up, her blanket slipping down to her waist as she stared wide-eyed at Regan. “What? Mymotheris here?”
Regan held up her hand. “No, no, the story isn’t over. This part is really interesting: imagine my even bigger surprise when your mom tells me that you and I are in a relationship!”
There.
Satisfied, she crossed her arms and nodded at Emma. “Now it’s your turn.”
Emma didn’t immediately launch into her usual commentary, however. Instead, her jaw went slack as those blue eyes widened even more. When she did speak, she didn’t explain. She offered a murmur of, “Jesus fucking Christ.”
“Did I miss somewhere in that contract that we’re apparently dating?” Honestly, it was the only thing she could think of that made any sort of sense, even though it also didn’t.
Emma glared. “Of course not.”
“Hey, don’t snap at me! I’m not the one who has any fuckingcluewhat is going on!” Regan whisper-shouted, jerking her thumb over her shoulder at Emma’s closed door. “It’s notmymom that showed up before ten AM on a Sunday morning to blindside us!”