Page 97 of The Snowball Effect

She knew how much Gram would hate being spoken of like that, especially to someone she didn’t know.

“Sure. Clearly, you get your need for privacy somewhere, and it obviously wasn’t from Kimberly.”

The scoff that burst from Emma’s lips at that was loud. Loud enough to garner several looks from residents walking by, prompting Emma to turn it into a cough, clearing her throat. “We should head to her room.”

“Lead the way.” Regan gestured for Emma to lead. And – strangely – she stayed a pace behind for the walk all the way down the hall. Which wasfine, technically, but she swore she could feel Regan’s eyes on her, and it made Emma feel a tingle at the back of her neck.

When she peered over her shoulder at Regan, trying not to look as suspicious as she felt, Regan’s gaze snapped up to meet hers, and she had a smile that looked… too innocent? Was that a thing?

She stopped in front of her gram’s suite, and Regan drew up next to her. As if she’d walked with her the whole time.

Before she could give Regan any last-minute instructions – what, exactly, Emma wasn’t sure – or even knock, the door opened.

Gram stood before them, with her long, white hair pulled back into her signature bun, a look she’d worn almost daily for Emma’s entire life, in her straight-legged jeans and light blue button-down. She’d worn the same outfit in slightly different color variations on every single non-workday for… ever.

As always, seeing her brought Emma a rush of comfort. Even now, with the nerves still swimming through her.

“Gram! Were you waiting by the door?” She joked, bending down and pecking her grandmother on the soft, thin skin of her cheek, as she always did.

“Only when I realized you were two minutes later than you’d said to expect you,” Gram returned, patting Emma’s shoulder.

“Emma does have the pathological need to always be early,” Regan chimed in with a ridiculously warm, indulgent smile as she looked up at Emma.

She felt her stomach flutter because…wow, seriously, Regan was so good at this.

When Gram slightly raised her eyebrows at her – undoubtedly expecting Emma to use the manners Gram had taught her – she blushed, jumping into action. “Gram, this is Regan Gallagher. My girlfriend.”

Okay, that rolled off of her tongue easier than she’d expected. Especially to her grandmother, someone she never lied to.

Grateful for it, she turned to Regan and gestured at her gram, who stood barely five feet tall with her head coming up to Emma’s chin. “And Regan, this is my gram. Sheryl Bordeaux.”

“You can call me Sherry,” her gram insisted, aiming a small, crooked smile at Regan.

Emma could read her grandmother like a book, and she knew that her gram was wondering the best way to greet Regan. A handshake? A warm pat on the back or shoulder, as she tended to do with Emma? A simple wave? Introductions had never been her grandmother’s strong suit.

It seemed any worry was superfluous, though, as Regan decided for them both. She went right in for a hug, the move fluid and natural. Emma could read the surprise on her gram’s face before she wrapped her arms around Regan’s waist, patting her softly on the back.

Even when Regan pulled back, she lightly cupped her gram’s elbows, smiling that enchantingly sunny smile. “You can just call me Regan.”

Gram chuckled, nodding as she did so. “That sounds good; easy to remember, at the very least.”

“I guess you’re right,” Regan agreed, removing her hands from her gram only to slide one arm through Gram’s, linking elbows. “And I would really love a tour of your place if you don’t mind. I’m not sure if Emma’s told you, but I have a bit of a nosy nature.”

Was Emma crazy, or was Regan… charming? Like, truly, genuinelycharming? With that slightly self-deprecating, slightly unashamed grin and the candid way she announced her nosiness?

“A tour of this old place? If that’s what you want…” Gram trailed off, looking at Emma briefly with an undecipherable glance before turning her attention back to Regan. “Emmadidn’ttell me about your curious nature, though.”

She trailed her grandma and Regan through the suite. Which wasn’tlarge, but it was enough for her gram’s preferred belongings and favorite furniture.

“This is mostly, well,it.” Gram concluded as they circled back into the kitchenette a minute later.

“It’s so great to see where Emma disappears to for hours every weekend,” Regan stated with such verve that it was impossible to think she wasn’t telling the truth.

“Well, it’s not much,” her gram muttered, in a tone that dug into Emma’s heart every time she heard it. A tone that reflected how deeply Gram missed the apartment she’d called home for nearly forty years, the one she’d moved into after marrying Emma’s grandfather.

Regan wheeled around, staring at Gram like she was crazy. “Shut up; this place is fucking amazing. I didn’t even know thatthere were places like this that existed before I knew you lived here!”

Emma held in a chortle, knowing Regan’s knowledge had only been expanded ten minutes ago.

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