“Disappointed that you brought me to explore a new bookstore on a date?” Pursing her lips in faux-thought, Emma shook her head. “I’d say it’s probably one of the best date ideas anyone’s ever had.”

  That mega-watt smile bloomed over Regan’s face again, settling warmly through Emma’s chest. Regan turned her head, placing a kiss to the center of Emma’s palm that had been cupping her jaw in a move so fast, Emma hadn’t seen it coming.

  Her palm tingled from it, as her breath hitched, and she closed her fist tightly as she dropped her hand back to her side. “Uh.” She cleared her throat. “Why don’t we go in?”

  There was a flush on Regan’s cheeks, an undeniable energy that buzzed between them, as Regan reached out and opened the door. “After you.”

  As Emma walked in, her eyes widened as she took in the interior. The spiral staircase in the middle of the shop was entirely unexpected, leading up to a second and third floor. The shelves weren’t all a uniform shape or size, with a variety of clearly new and used books mixed together. There was an organized chaos to it all, something so… beautiful, and Emma gaped.

  “How did I not know this was here?” She asked, awed, as she stared up and around.

  “Isn’t it gorgeous?” Regan asked, bouncing onto her tiptoes next to her, squeezing the hold she still had on Emma’s hand. “And there’s a café in the back, too, that people raved about in reviews. They have a chef that changes the menu every month. It functions as a coffee house during the day, and they serve book-themed mixed drinks at night. I figured we’d have dinner here.”

  Emma’s heart skipped a beat as she focused her attention back to Regan, who was staring up at her with a hopeful smile.

  It might technically only be the beginning of the date, but Emma got the distinct feeling that she was done for. She’d attempted to tell herself all day that she needed to be as grounded as possible tonight. That she needed to be mindful of any potential downfall, to be wary of jumping into this head-first.

  “That sounds great,” she murmured, trying to stay as grounded as possible. “And, honestly, it’s totally fine that Alexis Levine’s Q&A was postponed. I can always keep an eye out and come back here to see her. But this way, you don’t have to sit through something you don’t really care about just for the sake of our date.”

  Even though Emma would be thrilled to listen to one of her favorite authors – obviously – she found that was the truth. She wanted to do something with Regan, not something Regan was doing for her, that she wasn’t getting anything from herself.

  Regan’s eyebrows furrowed. “What? I care. I’m disappointed, too.”

  “About… Alexis?” Emma asked, confused.

  “Yes!” Regan insisted, staring up at Emma as if Emma was the crazy one, here. “I read her Escape trilogy, and I really liked it.”

  Surprise filtered through Emma, and she shook her head with it. “Uh-uh, wait. You told me – months ago – that you didn’t read very much.”

  “Right, but that was before I followed your book reviews,” Regan informed her, as if the was stating something obvious. “When you gave me your account info, I read through everything, and you were so into her books that it made me want to read them. So, I did. And I really like them.”

  Blood rushed in Emma’s ears, making it so all she could hear was her own heartbeat, which thudded harder in her chest. “You read her books because I liked them.”

  “Yeah,” Regan confirmed, plainly. “Obviously.”

  It was so clear that she had no idea what that information meant to Emma, what it was doing to her inside. How it made her stomach flutter with this feeling that Regan had increasingly inspired in her.

  “And you did it before we were even a possibility,” Emma pushed, unable to stop herself.

  Even if Regan had read Emma’s favorite books in the last two days, she would have been amazed and so, so pleased. But the fact that Regan had done it before, just when they were friends, it – it hit home on a deeper level, and Emma couldn’t place why.

  “Yes,” Regan stated again, staring curiously up at Emma. “I wanted to know why you liked them so much, because you wrote your reviews about them so passionately. I wanted to understand, and… I mean, it was over a month ago; I wanted to know you, better.”

  No one had ever looked at her the way Regan did, the way she was right now. Like she wanted to climb inside of Emma’s mind and know every single one of her thoughts.

  Emma stared back, her breath catching in her throat, and she had the strongest, neediest desire to push Regan back against the bookshelf behind them, and kiss her. Though they’d kissed twice, Emma had never been the one to initiate one, and right now – in this very public, very inappropriate moment – she wanted to so badly, she had to clench her free hand into a fist and dig her nails into her palm as a sharp reminder that this wasn’t the time or place.

  Blowing out a deep breath, Emma got herself under control. Grounded, she reminded herself, even though she could already feel herself floating into Regan’s orbit.

  She fell even deeper into that orbit over dinner.

  Emma stared at Regan over her Gone-with-the-Gin cocktail, unable to take her eyes away from her.

  Somehow, this was her life. Somehow, she was here, on a date with Regan Gallagher, and feeling more charmed than she’d ever felt in her life.

  Regan glanced up from the menu she was perusing to catch Emma’s eye. Arching an eyebrow, she asked, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “I just…” She rolled her lips. “You read my favorite books.”

  There was an awed note in her tone that she still couldn’t get rid of. And with it, a slow smile slid over Regan’s face. “I did. And it was a great choice. The only other books I’ve read in the last five years were ones Katherine wrote, but I actually liked that this was a different vibe.”

  “Different genre,” Emma mused, too entertained by Regan referring to the genre as a vibe.

  “Right,” Regan agreed.

  Emma took a moment to reflect, before she sighed, wistfully. “I can’t believe Katherine Spencer is Sutton’s mom. When I found that out, after a few weeks of knowing Sutton, I almost peed myself.”

  Regan nearly choked on her own drink – a Tequila Mockingbird – with spluttering laughter. “Really?”

  “Yes!” Indignance worked through her as she scoffed. “I mean, the Katherine Spencer is one of my favorite writers! And somehow, I happened into a friendship with her daughter? I’ve only met her a few times in the last couple of years, but I swear – each time, I’ve made a total fool of myself.”

  Regan chuckled, dropping her chin into her hand as she stared at Emma over the table. “How so?”

  “I mean, the last time I saw her was in May, the week after I moved in. You were at work, and there was a knock on the door, so I answered it. And, there she stood.” Emma could remember it vividly, and her stomach still churned in embarrassment. “As is par for the freaking course for every time I’ve interacted with this woman, I was awe-struck. When I was finally able to talk like a normal person, I stared at her like a total idiot and told her that Sutton wasn’t home.”

  Emma groaned softly at herself. “And she stared at me with, like, the sweetest smile – like I was a moron, but she didn’t want me to feel badly about myself or something – and said I know that my daughter is in Rome; I’m looking for Regan. Like, obviously, she knew her daughter was in fucking Rome.”

  Regan’s guffaw of laughter forced a chuckle from Emma, even as she could feel herself blush.

  When she looked back at Regan, she was taken aback by the soft, sweet look she wore. “Ahh, and the she came and saw me at Topped Off; I remember.”

  “And I think you went out to dinner with her.” Emma’s detailed recollection of Regan’s comings-and-goings from months ago wasn’t lost on her.

  “I did,” Regan confirmed. “I usually do when she’s in town.”

  “Even if Sutton isn’t,” Emma slowly muttered, trying to put together the picture being displayed in front of her.

  Regan nodded, easily. “Oh, yeah. I mean…” She rolled her lips, that smile on her lips fading just a bit. “I wasn’t very close to my own parents, growing up. Like I told you. But I latched onto Katherine like a second mom, and I think she knew that I didn’t really fit at my house, because she treated me like her sixth kid. Family vacations, holidays, birthdays – any time I could get away from my house, I would. And my dad worked for Sutton’s dad and really respected him, so, they let me go to the Spencers a lot. I think…” Regan rolled her lips, her eyebrows knitting together in thought.

  “I think they liked it, that way. They trusted I was in good hands with Katherine and Jack, and they didn’t have to deal with me, so it was a win-win. At least, that’s how it always felt.” Regan’s tone turned pensive and heavy, as she shrugged. “Anyway, I think I spent literally at least fifty percent of my adolescence sharing Sutton’s bedroom.”

  Much like the first time Regan had shared information about her past and her family with Emma, she found herself utterly riveted. It was the same feeling she had when she was reading a great book – she hated the idea of putting it down the same way she hated the idea of Regan not sharing every little detail with her.

  Also much like that time, Emma felt this unfamiliar but undeniable anger well up at the idea of Regan’s parents.

  She didn’t quite know what to do with that, honestly. She’d never felt so – so defensive over someone else, before.

  Emma didn’t actually need to process it right now, though, as Regan shrugged and pushed past it. “But, yeah. Katherine usually makes a point to check in with me when she’s in town. She texts or calls me every few weeks, too. And she usually does like to swing by and see the apartment,” Regan gestured at Emma, recalling her interaction with Katherine. “Which makes sense, since she pays a third of the rent.”

  Surprised and confused, Emma reeled back. “What?”

  Regan slowly tilted her head at Emma, also looking confused. “You didn’t know?”

  “Like… she pays a third of the rent even now? When Sutton’s not there?” Emma pressed, trying to wrap her mind around the possibility.

  She’d assumed that Sutton’s parents paid her share of the rent, given what a nice apartment it was, in a good neighborhood, and Sutton certainly didn’t make enough to pay half of the rent from what she took home as a teaching assistant; Emma would know. But…

  “Yeah,” Regan confirmed, taking a sip of her drink. “When I moved to the city – freshly into the summer as a college dropout – I went out and got into an apartment. Kind of like your last setup; I found three randos online that were looking for a fourth person to rent out a bed. It was a total shithole. I think someone had possibly been murdered there? Not to mention the cockroaches.” She shuddered.

  Emma’s attention snapped right back into riveted mode, as soon as the conversation turned back to Regan. That alone told her everything she really needed to know. And, of course, Regan shuddered in disgust at the cockroaches rather than the murder scene.

  “I’d only been there for, like, a day when Sutton came over to check it out. She was… less than impressed.” Regan’s lips curled into a cute smile as she laughed. “Actually, the exact thing she said was, no. Then she packed up the only bag I’d unpacked and took me back to her dorm room. She had a single, and was staying here over the summer,” she explained, “Taking a bonus lit. course for fun, the nerd.”

  “Sutton got on the phone with her parents and sent them the pictures of the apartment. We worked out a deal – I would pay a third of the rent, and Sutton’s parents would pay the rest. When Sutton finished undergrad, she took over a third, too. I could afford my full half, after I got my promotion. And I offered,” Regan was quick to inform her, as if still wanting to make sure Emma thought the best of her, clearly still thinking about how Emma had expressed her irritation at Regan’s privileged upbringing. “But Katherine said she’d prefer it if I take some time to bulk up my savings. When Sutton comes back from Rome, the lease is going to be re-evaluated.”

  “I always assumed you had some sort of trust fund or whatever to fall back on,” Emma’s voice was quiet as she tried to wrap her mind around all of the new information she was being presented with.

  A sharp smile flashed over Regan’s face. “Well, I did, technically. You weren’t wrong about what you said a couple months ago; I did grow up super lucky because money wasn’t an issue. And both my sister and I had trusts set up for us from our parents. But as soon as I dropped out of college, my parents were very clear that I wouldn’t ever be getting a penny of it.”

  Emma slumped back against her chair, heavily. Yes, Regan had grown up with wealth and privilege, but she didn’t actually have it, now. And, if Emma was honest with herself, that would have changed the way she’d seen Regan a lot sooner.

  As soon as the thought hit her, Emma gasped and sat at attention. “I let you pay my hospital bill!”

  Oh, she didn’t like this feeling that curled through her and sat like a stone in her stomach, not at all.

  Regan’s confusion was obvious, as was her shame. “I mean, paying your hospital bill was the right thing to do, since I sent you there.”

  Emma was already shaking her head, though, and she reached up, rubbing at her temples. “Regardless, I only agreed to let you do it because I thought you had, like, family money at your disposal. Even with my insurance, it was over a thousand dollars!”

  Still, Regan stared across from her, undeterred. “And I was happy to do it; I owed you that.”

  “No, you didn’t. I want to pay you back.”

  “I won’t take it,” Regan immediately returned, looking affronted. “Emma, I almost killed you. Literally. Paying the hospital bill was the least I could do. And I don’t want to argue about it, especially on our date,” she insisted, a steely tone under her typically relaxed demeanor. “It’s been months; the statute of limitations has run out.”

  Emma felt it, again. That feeling of sliding deeper and deeper into this. “You, Regan Gallagher, have a lot of character.” She almost wished she’d seen it sooner, but… honestly, she probably would have fallen for Regan a lot sooner, too, and she had no idea how that would have gone.

  The look on Regan’s face was pure radiance, as she hummed happily. “Why, thank you. Now, let’s pick something for dinner – afterwards, we’re going to do something I’m super excited about: pick out each other’s next read.”

  Oh, yeah. It really was all over for her.

  “All I’m saying is that vanilla gets a really bad reputation!” Regan ardently insisted, as they walked into the elevator of their building several hours later.

  Emma shook her head, utterly amused. “I don’t have strong feelings on it either way; I’m mostly just invested because you are so adamant.”

  Regan’s heartfelt defense of vanilla ice cream had started two blocks over, when they’d stopped at the gourmet ice cream shop on the way home from the bookstore. Emma had gotten a mocha chocolate chip – a choice she stood by, wholeheartedly – and after she’d ordered, Regan had stepped up and gotten… vanilla.

  Emma had given her a baffled stare, because out of any flavor she could imagine anyone but especially Regan choosing, vanilla hadn’t been on the list of possibilities.

  Admittedly, Emma had gotten a little lost in her argument, as she’d watched Regan lick her vanilla ice cream for the last few blocks. She’d gotten her own in a cup, a choice she’d been making since childhood. And she was grateful for her decision as they’d walked, because her mocha chip had melted a bit from neglect, as Emma had gotten far too easily distracted.

  “It’s a classic, it goes with everything,” Regan stated, firmly. “And I don’t like vanilla slander, that’s all.”

  Emma hit the button for their floor, before stepping back to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Regan. “I’ve never heard someone be so intent about vanilla ice cream, but if anyone was going to do it, I’m not surprised it’s you.”

  “Thank you,” Regan accepted as if Emma’s simple statement had been an outright compliment.

  Even as her lips ticked into a warm smile at the response, Emma took a deep, bracing breath as the doors opened to their floor and they stepped out into the hallway.

  “So…” Regan started, glancing down the hall at their door. “I think date etiquette states that the date is coming to an end, as we’re coming to your front door.”

  “Your front door, too,” Emma reminded her, amused.

  Regan waved her off. “Yeah, sure, but this was my date that I planned for you. As your date, I’m walking you to your apartment door for the end of the night to close out our date, and then I’ll become your roommate again.”

  “Ah, I didn’t realize that you haven’t been my roommate all along.”

  “Easy mistake to make,” Regan murmured with a quiet chuckle. A chuckle that sounded riddled with nerves, which were reflected in Regan’s face as she turned to face Emma in the hallway. Her hands were locked together in front of her, Emma’s work bag still slung over her shoulder as she’d insisted that she carry it home, as well. The bag also now contained the three books Regan had bought for Emma at the store, and the one Emma had picked out and bought for Regan.

  “So, how was it?” Regan asked, her voice soft, as her gaze searched Emma’s. “On a scale of one to ten. One being that we need to forget this ever happened and you’re back to not even liking me as a friend, four being that you were disappointed with the evening and don’t see us working out romantically, but you still want to be platonic roommate-friends, seven being that you had a good time but you think there’s room for improvement and you see possible pitfalls in our romantic future, and ten being that you had a great time and you’d love to do this again with me, because you see that we have something real between us.”

  An incredulous laugh bubbled up her throat. “You know, that’s quite a scale. I’ve never heard someone ask me to rank something like that, before.”

 

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