Page 70 of The Snowball Effect

They were mesmerizing.

“All right, I ordered the Uber,” Emma commented as she tapped her phone again, finally lowering it. “What did you–”

Emma abruptly cut herself off, mirroring Regan’s wide-eyed stare. Those blue eyes traced down Regan’s body, then back up before Emma promptly dropped her gaze pointedly to the floor.

“Regan! Why did you call me out here? You’re naked!”

Shaking herself out of her stupor, Regan glanced down at herself to double-check before she defended, “I am not.”

She wasn’t; she was wearing one of her favorite lingerie sets. A lacy purple pair that showcased her breasts as best as possible. However, as she looked at Emma’s, she felt very humbled.

Amused, she took a closer look at Emma. “Are youblushing?”

“Well, you called me out here so that I could apparently look at you in your underwear,” Emma scolded, her tone scalding. “Which – you know we need to leave in like five minutes, right?”

“I know, that’s why I called for you. Come,” she ordered, waving Emma to follow her into her room.

Emma sighed before several seconds passed… and finally, she followed into Regan’s room.

She still was pointedly avoiding looking at Regan, though, she noted with no small amount of amusement. Instead, Emma was intently peering around at her bedroom.

“I thought you’d be way more chill about seeing a woman in her underwear, given that you’re bisexual and all. I’ve literally met your ex-girlfriend,” she pointed out, poking Emma lightly in the arm. She frowned as the thought hit her. “Wait, are you asexual?”

Emma aimed a frown in her general direction. “No, I’m not. But,” she tipped her head back, sighing at the ceiling. “On an average day, I don’t see women… especially like you… walking around like this.”

It was Regan’s turn to frown –women like her?

“Women like me?” She echoed.

Yes, the blush on Emma’s cheeks most definitely deepened as she steadfastly avoided looking at Regan. “Mhmm.”

“Who arewomen like me?” She pressed, taking a step closer to Emma. “Women you’ve lived with? Baristas? Your friends? Your ex-nemeses? Your–”

“Women who look like they’ve stepped out of a lingerie ad, literallywearingthat lingerie,” Emma explained, her voice tight as she frowned down at the clothing options on the bed.

Whatever other goading words Regan was going to say fell back down her throat as she felt herself flush, butterflies erupting in her stomach. Again, she gave a cursory glance down at her own body, before looking back at Emma. “You think I look like I could have stepped out of a lingerie ad?”

Emma finally looked at her, exasperated. “Are you fishing for compliments?”

Equally exasperated, Regan tossed her hands up into the air. “No! That was the last thing I expected you to say.”

“Regan, look at yourself,” Emma retorted, her forehead crinkling in what looked like genuine confusion. “You look… good.”

Regandidlook back down at herself. Even though she was never shy around her own nudity, she felt – well, she felt different in this moment, as her stomach squirmed pleasantly. “I guess I’m just used to standing next to Sutton,” she murmured without thinking too much about it.

But the first time they’d gone to buy bras and underwear by themselves as teenagers was a memory Regan could easilyrecall. Sutton had emerged from her fitting room, far more self-conscious than Regan, but utterly statuesque.

“You’reboththin and very… traditionally attractive,” Emma said quietly, still clearly baffled, even as she was still blushing.

Regan rolled her lips. “I mean, I know that. But – look. Spending my entire life standing next to Sutton, who’s tall and has all her muscle tone and flame-red hair… people notice Sutton first. Even I do,” she added with a self-deprecating laugh.

Saying that aloud made her stomach churn unpleasantly, especially when Emma stared at her as if she was trying to read Regan’s mind.

“Anyway,” Regan cleared her throat uncomfortably – wow, did her texts with her sister really did get into her head so easily or something? “Iamready – except for the outfit.” She made a sweeping gesture at her bed, where her top contenders were laid out.

Emma slowly dropped her gaze from Regan’s face, and Regan wasn’t sure she’d ever be so pleased that Emma was ingrained to never pry. She stared at the clothing on the bed, her expression scrunching up adorably. “Regan, you’re the one doing me a favor. Wear whatever you want.”

But Regan shook her head. “No way! We’re doing this as a ruse for your family, and I won’t half-ass it. If I’m going to full-ass it, I need your input on what will impress the most.”

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