Page 69 of The Snowball Effect

eleven

Audrey L. Gallagher – 5:00 PM

Brunch reservation next Saturday. Fox and Hyde. 11 AM.

Regan pausedwhere she stood in her bedroom, frowning at her sister’s text. She opened her calendar app to double-check her suspicions, feeling triumphant as her suspicions were confirmed.

Regan – 5:01 PM

I don’t see it on Audrey and Armando’s wedding calendar?

She’d taken calendar notifications a little more seriously since last month. Keeping an orderly schedule was obviously incredibly important to Emma, and Regan – in her determination to be a better roommate and… dare she say, friend? – was adhering to that.

And Regan would have to admit that checking in with her calendar and keeping track of things on there had been making her more far more organized and less frenzied.

Audrey L. Gallagher – 5:01 PM

It’s not on there. That’s why I’m texting you, Regan. To let you know that you should make a note of it in your calendar.

Regan stared down at her sister’s text for a few seconds – since when did Audrey throw together a last-minute bridal party event? But… whatever. She responded with a thumbs-up, added it to her calendar, and tossed her phone onto her bed.

Right now, that was unimportant.

Emma’s family was the focal point of the evening. She took a deep breath, shaking off Audrey’s weirdness as she looked in her full-length mirror.

She ruffled her hair a bit, the dark strands falling in their natural waves down to her shoulders. She wore minimal makeup, but she figured that was a good decision. Even though Regan hadn’t ever gotten to the stage of a relationship wheremeeting the familywas a thing, she wasn’t an idiot. She was aiming for the sweet spot – looking good but not looking like she was trying too hard.

With her hands on her hips, she turned to look at the outfit options she had laid out on her bed.

The thing Regan desperately needed to concern herself about not fucking up was this. Because things with Emma had been goingsowell lately. Like, really well.

Like – Emma actuallysmiledat her, all cute and sleepy, when they were in the kitchen to get coffee at the same time in the morning.

Like – Emma was even getting into watchingThe Onewith her. Not only did she not get annoyed when Regan paused the episode to make her commentary about each of the candidates, but Emma liked to do that, too.

“Now, that guy definitely poses with a fish on dating apps,” Emma scoffed derisively about a contestant the night before.

Regan had giggled, settling down deeper into the cushion next to her as she gestured to the other guy on screen. “And he takes all of his pictures from an angle beneath his chin.”

Like – she’d literallysharedher secret book-reviewing social media page with Regan!

Regan couldn’t – wouldn’t – blow this newfound friendship tonight by not making a good impression at family dinner. It meant a lot to her.

With that thought in mind, Regan strutted to her bedroom door and tossed it open. “Emma! Can you come here? I need you.”

She stared intently at Emma’s adjacent bedroom door, itching to walk over and open it herself.

Shedidn’t, though, because Emma wasn’t Sutton, and she wouldn’t like that. Even with all of their progress.

Thankfully, a few seconds later, Emma stepped out. “Is everything okay?” She asked, looking down at her phone, her thumbs moving over the screen.

The question on Regan’s lips died, falling back down her throat as Emma stood in front of her in high-waisted black shorts with a baby blue button-up tucked into them. But the buttons weren’t all done up just yet.

No, the top… five? Six? Were still undone, and her breasts were being showcased in the seriouslyincrediblewhite bra she wore.

Regan didn’t know what it was about Emma’s breasts that she found so fascinating. She really didn’t. But it was an undeniable fact by now, something she’d simply had to come to accept.

Maybe it was because the sight brought Regan back to the first time they’d met at the café, when Regan had ripped hershirt open, and Emma’s prodigious chest had been there, right in front of her face. Maybe it was because her breasts were so much bigger than Regan’s own – or Sutton’s or…anywoman’s that Regan had ever seen in real life.

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