Page 59 of The Snowball Effect

“Right,” she cautiously agreed. “So, the meal is for?”

Regan’s large, expressive eyes stared into Emma’s, the playful hint falling away from them as she answered, “I told you before: I really do like to cook. I just hate cooking for one. So… I figured this could be a do-over?” There was a hopeful edge in her tone, something so earnest that it grabbed onto something inside of Emma. “I know I totally fucked up the last time I did this for us. But this is one hundred percent nut-free.”

Regan reached up and quickly drew a littlexover her heart.

Emma slowly blew out a breath, eyebrows lifted on her forehead as she looked around the kitchen. Taking in the food before looking at Regan herself. Her dark hair was tousled, half-up and half-down, and her cheeks were slightly pink from having been cooking for likely the last few hours.

She then dropped her gaze down to the table. Where Regan had set them plates and silverware, as well as… pieces of paper?

“What is this?” She asked, walking over to the table so she could grab it.

Regan jumped forward to answer, obviously excited. “Oh! I totally forgot I put those out already. It’s a littleget-to-know-yougame. I figured we could play over dinner. You know, since we’re becoming friends and all.”

Both papers were identical – one for Emma, one for Regan – with lists written in Regan’s neat scrawl.

Birthday, favorite/least holiday, color, TV show/movie, day of the week, animal…

… Emma scanned her gaze over the paper quickly before lifting it to look at Regan skeptically.

“Over dinner, I figured we could both fill these out and then we could guess the other person’s answer!” Regan explained as if it were obvious that this was going to be a guessing game.

Emma scoffed out a laugh because this was soRegan. Even if she hadn’t anticipated that they’d be playing 20 Questions over dinner, she wasn’t surprised.

She took a deep breath, finding that more than anything, she felt… amused.

“Sure,” she agreed after several moments.

After all, she imagined thatthis– dinner together, little getting-to-know-you games – was exactly the kind of thing Regan had envisioned for them when Emma had moved in. It seemed fair.

Regan pumped her fist in an absurdly adorable celebration.

“I already know your birthday, though,” Emma stated unthinkingly as she reviewed the list again.

Regan’s little happy dance paused as she tilted her head up at Emma in obvious surprise. “You do?”

“May seventeenth,” Emma informed her, almost slightly insulted. “Regan, we’ve been in the same small friend circle for over two years; I know your birthday.”

“Well, I didn’t want to assume. We can cross that one off because I know yours, too.”

Emma bit the inside of her cheek, debating if she should say the thought that popped into her mind. But because they weretrying, she forced the words out. “I got you a birthday gift.”

All of Regan’s movements stopped as she spun quickly around to look at Emma, baffled. “No, you didn’t.”

At the memory, Emma’s stomach twisted uncomfortably. “Uh… yeah. I did.”

Regan shook her head, her eyebrows furrowing in thought. “No, youdidn’t. I would have remembered because it was only a few days after you moved in. And we barely spoke that day.”

Ugh, yeah, Emma did not enjoy this feeling in the pit of her stomach at the reminder. “Yeah, well, at the time, you’d just broken my gram’s hummingbird figurines, and I wasn’t feeling particularly…”

“Celebratory,” Regan supplied kindly.

“Right,” Emma latched onto it. “So, I didn’t give it to you. And I’m sorry. But I’ll grab it for you after dinner.”

“What is it?” Regan asked, walking a few steps closer to Emma as if she were magnetized toward her.

It was disconcerting how close Regan came to her. Emma drew in a sharp breath, wondering if Regan had any concept of personal space. Because she only stopped inches before their chests brushed together.

But those dark eyes were so wide, so curious, affixed to Emma’s, and… she reallydidn’tthink Regan had any conscious thought to how close they were standing.

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