Page 130 of The Snowball Effect

Okay, sothatseemed normal? Maybe a little teasing tone, if Regan was interpreting correctly. Maybe shewasreading into things.

When her phone started buzzing in her hand, her heart leapt in her chest, making her feel like she was coming back to life. Maybe it was Emma! Maybe –

“Hey, hi, hello?” She breathed, entirely too excited to sound even remotely normal.

A few seconds of silence beat by before she was greeted with, “Are you on anything this particular evening?”

Recognizing the voice, Regan dropped her head back in disappointment. “Charlotte. Hey.” A moment later, she perked back up when the realization dawned on her. “Charlotte? Hey?”

“Regan,” Charlotte shortly returned, cautiously. “Are you… doing well?”

Frowning, Regan answered, “Um – well. You know, I’ve been better, and been worse. So, I suppose it all evens out.”

And that was true.

She was living with Emma, whom she’d befriended, developed feelings for, kissed, and was now uncertain of their status. She saw Emma in various states of dress and undress. Got to hear her laughter, watch the way she stared down sointently at her laptop when she was working that Regan felt like she couldseethe way her mind was moving.

Torturous bliss.

“Weirdest thing that’s happened to me all day is that you’re calling.” She had no problem admitting that.

Charlotte scoffed. “How is that so odd? We’ve been communicating regularly for over a month. You text me multiple times a week and I always answer. You’ve even been inside of my home.”

“And I’m sure for you that counts for a deeply personal friendship,” Regan sort-of joked. Not really; she knew enough about Charlotte to know that she wasn’t totally wrong. “But the reality is thatI’mthe one that’s initiated all of our past communications. So, you have to give this to me – you calling me out of the blue? A little strange.”

“I’m calling to ask if you’d like to have dinner with me tonight. A dinner party I was supposed to go to was unexpectedly canceled, and I have some free time. If you’d rather not, then–”

Even though Regan stood by what she’d said, and she was still confused as hell, she quickly cut Charlotte off before she could rescind the random offer. “No! Dinner sounds great. Where?”

Especially because Regan’s preferred dinner companion was going out to dinner withBrynn.

“I’ll drop you a pin to the restaurant.”

“Be warned – I’m in Astoria, so it’ll probably take me a bit to get there.”

“And I’m in Midtown traffic, so there’s a good chance you’ll arrive before me.”

Regandidbeat Charlotte to the ritzy Greek place Charlotte had sent her to, but only by a few minutes.

She’d barely gotten settled – still no new texts from Emma. What was that about? – when she spotted Charlotte strutting through to the back of the restaurant to join her at the private table she’d been seated at as soon as she’d dropped Charlotte’s name.

She tilted her head, watching Charlotte glide toward her. It was a very specific walk she had, determined and smooth, all in one.

“Why don’t I feel any attraction to you?” She demanded to know, as soon as Charlotte reached the table.

Charlotte slowly lifted her sunglasses off of her face, staring down at Regan with exasperation. “Please, not this conversation again.”

Regan tapped her palms restlessly against the tabletop. “I just don’t get it! I’m into women – confirmed. In a big way. You’re super-hot. What’s that about?”

Charlotte pursed her lips, gripping the back of her chair as if she wasn’t sure she wanted to sit in it or slide it back into the table and leave. “Attraction is an interesting thing. If we were attracted to every person that was stereotypicallysuper-hot, we’d have a very boring society, wouldn’t we? Besides, it’s not just looks that we’re drawn to.”

Regan knew Charlotte was right, of course.

Maybe that was also what tripped her up about how deeply she was into Emma. Regan had never been that into any man, not even ones she’d been dating. The physical connection had always been there, but she’d never wantedmorewith them.She’d never wanted to make them laugh or hoped they found her smart and interesting or stayed up late at night wondering if they were thinking about her the way she was thinking about them.

She did that with Emma. A lot. Wondering what she was doing or what was on her mind, right across the hall.

“We’re not going to have a repeat conversation about attraction,” she confirmed, mostly so Charlotte would sit down, already.

---