Bright Lights and Summer Nights: A Fake Dating Billionaire Sports Romance (Black Tie Billionaires)

I’ve never wanted to ditch my family more than I have tonight. Peyton insisted we keep the night going, reminiscing about old family vacations and begging Gram to tell stories about her and Grandpa. The entire time, all I could think about was that kiss with Emma.

I should’ve just kissed her in that garden. Fuck, I know she wanted me to. She kept wetting her lips every time she looked at mine. Even under the moonlight, her entire body was flushed. She wanted me to kiss her just as badly as I wanted to do it—but her comment about our first kiss being awkward didn’t sit well with me.

I know she was coming up with excuses like she said, but that was the best damn first kiss I’d ever had. I don’t know the last time something rocked me the way that kiss did. I can’t help but want to make her pay for calling that kiss anything short of perfection.

Gram is in the midst of recalling the time when Grandpa proposed here in the Hamptons on the same pier they met at and almost dropped the ring in the ocean. I’m too busy regretting not kissing Emma when I had the chance when she leans closer to me.

“Why aren’t you finishing your drink?” she asks, pointing to the whiskey the bartender gave me the moment I returned back from the maze with Emma. I hadn’t taken a sip of it.

“I’m driving,” I answer, not telling her the reason I didn’t want to take even a sip was because I didn’t want to get rid of the taste of her. She’d tasted of cherry and lime from the fruity cocktail Davis had made her, and I’m still thinking about it an hour later.

My answer must satisfy Emma because she leaves my personal space and goes back to intently listening to the story Gram is sharing. I thought we might have to come up with an elaborate story to make up for her acting weird when we returned to my family, but she kept it completely cool the moment we returned to the table.

And I think that pisses me off more. She acts cool as can be, even though it wasn’t long ago she was almost begging me to kiss her again. I thought I’d teach her a lesson by almost kissing her, but I’m beginning to wonder if she’s the one teaching me a lesson.

“Preston?” Grandma shouts, clapping her hands together to get my attention.

I jump, blinking rapidly and looking from my untouched drink to my grandmother. “Yes?”

“Is my story that boring to you?” she teases, her voice soft.

I sit up straight, turning my body toward my grandmother so she has my full attention. “Sorry, Gram. I think I’m just getting a little tired. Emma, you ready?”

“Not really,” Emma responds instantly, grinning at me.

Oh, she’s definitely getting me back for the moment in the maze.

“Do you have to leave?” Peyton juts out her bottom lip at me, reaching for Emma’s hand and locking their fingers together. “Emma and I still have so much to talk about.”

Emma nods in agreement. “It’s not even ten yet. We should stay longer, honey muffin.” The way she sarcastically says honey muffin makes me lift an eyebrow. The pet name is terrible and never something two people actually dating should call each other, but none of my family seem to catch on to her dramatic use of a pet name.

“I guess we probably shouldn’t stay up too late,” Peyton interjects. “Our tennis reservations are pretty early tomorrow morning.”

“Tennis?” Emma asks, bringing her bottom lip between her teeth.

Peyton leans forward and now has hold of both of Emma’s hands. “Yes, tennis. It’ll be the entire wedding party and their plus-ones. It’ll be so fun!”

The look in Emma’s eyes tells me she may not view tennis as fun as Peyton does. She laughs nervously, looking to me for help. I don’t give her any, so she looks back to Peyton. “I’m not really a sports kind of girl. But I’d love to wear the tennis skirt I packed and admire from the sidelines.”

Peyton shakes her head. “Then Preston won’t have a partner. It’ll be low-key, I promise. But Preston does have a point. We should all go to bed soon so we’re ready and rested for tomorrow.”

Mom jumps to her feet, clearly excited at the idea of going to bed. Emma, however, lingers on the ground, staring at Peyton with her mouth slightly open.

I stand up, holding my hand out so Emma will take it. She looks from my hand to me. Her bottom lip is turning red from the way she keeps chewing on it nervously. “Preston, you’re going to have to find another partner tomorrow.” She keeps her voice low so I’m the only one to hear it in the shuffle of everybody getting up from the table.

I frown as I pull her from the ground. “And why would I partner with anyone other than my lovely, sweet, adoring girlfriend, honey muffin?”

Gram walks up to Emma and me. “That’s a lot of adjectives,” she notes. “And who says honey muffin?”

I have to avoid making eye contact with Emma because I know if I do, I won’t be able to stifle the laughter threatening to escape.

Emma’s the one to respond, although I think she’s trying her best to hide her laugh by the way she covers her mouth with her hand. “It’s cute and not overused.” She reaches up to pinch one of my cheeks. “Plus, look at him. A sweet little honey muffin.”

Gram looks between Emma and me with pursed lips. Finally, she lets out a sigh of resignation. “Kids these days. Whatever happened to babe or sweetheart?”

Peyton joins our circle before either of us can respond. “So we’ll see you bright and early tomorrow, right?”

Leaning down, I speak close to Emma’s ear but still loud enough for everyone to hear my response. “And by bright and early, Peyton means ten.”

Peyton narrows her eyes at me. “That’s early.”

I laugh, rolling my eyes and straightening my spine. “I feel like I’ve slept in if I get to sleep until seven.”

Peyton shakes her head. “And that is why we live very different lives. If the sun isn’t high in the sky, it isn’t time to get up.”

Emma nods her head. “Agreed.”

My lips press into a thin line. “Most of the time, I’m up by five in the morning to meet with my trainer.”

Emma gives me a pat on the back. “Would you like a medal for that?”

Peyton and Jackson bust out in laughter. I scowl, staring at a smug Emma. She’ll pay for that comment later.

I wrap my arm around her, pulling her into my side and keeping her body pressed to mine. “Both Emma and I will be ready to play tennis in the morning. We’re ecstatic.”

Emma places her hand on my chest, rubbing up and down dramatically. “Can’t wait,” she lies through a tight smile.

I keep my face neutral as she pinches my abs in retaliation. Emma turns her face to speak against my chest, making sure I’m the only one to hear her.

“Jesus, do you have any body fat there? I can barely even get enough skin to pinch.”

“It’s the early morning workouts,” I respond, giving my sister a coy smile as she watches the two of us.

Emma doesn’t respond. She pulls away from me and pulls Gram into a hug.

“Thank you all for inviting me tonight. I had so much fun.” She and Gram stay locked in the embrace as Emma continues to talk. “And thank you for sharing all the stories. It was so special to hear about Joseph.”

Gram closes her eyes and gives Emma one final squeeze before letting go. “No, thank you, sweet girl. I haven’t laughed as much as I did tonight in I don’t know how long. It might be the most fun I’ve had since Joseph passed, and that’s all because of you.”

Gram’s words make Emma blush. She swats at the air, trying to take the attention away from herself. “All I did was ask you to dance.”

Gram cups both of Emma’s cheeks, forcing her to meet her eyes. “No one’s asked me to dance in a long time, my dear. And that’s why it meant so much.”

I can’t look away as Emma and Gram share a few more words before Peyton jumps in to also say goodbye to Emma. I watch the interactions, wondering how Emma only met my family yesterday—hell, she only met me yesterday—and I can’t help but notice how much she fits in. How effortlessly she’s connected with them in such a short time.

And I don’t know how to feel about that.

I push whatever I’m feeling away, not wanting to address what it is. I’m quick at telling my family goodbye and that I’ll see them in the morning. It doesn’t take long for Emma and me to be alone once again as I lead her to the front of the estate.

Neither one of us says anything as we walk to the car. The valet left long ago, but they left my car parked in the driveway with the keys hidden in the visor. I expect Emma to say something, but she surprisingly stays quiet.Copyright Nôv/el/Dra/ma.Org.

In fact, she doesn’t say anything the entire car ride back to Archer’s place. She reaches to open her door, but I stop her before she can do it. “Let me get it,” I demand, sliding out of the driver’s seat and rounding the front of the car.

I open her door, extending my hand to help her out. She looks at my outstretched hand with raised eyebrows. “Are you done giving me the silent treatment?”

“Here I was thinking you were the one giving me the silent treatment.”

Unlike last night, where I had to almost carry her to the front door, tonight, she’s steady on her feet. She won’t let me take her hand to walk her to the door. She drops it immediately and beelines for the house.

“Anyway. Good night, Preston,” she calls over her shoulder. “I must get to bed since apparently I’m being tortured with tennis in the morning.”

Her goodbye doesn’t faze me at all. I follow her up the pathway leading to the front door.

She spins to face me before we ever make it there. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Walking you to the door.”

“We talked about this last night. I’m fine.”

I don’t move. I know I don’t have to walk her to the front door, but I want to. And she isn’t going to stop me from wanting to.

She lets out an annoyed sound and stomps her foot in the most adorable of ways. “Do you ever listen, or do you just not listen to me?”

This makes me smile. “So now I’m not just grumpy, I don’t listen either?”

She nods, folding her arms across her chest, and holds her chin high. “Yes. Exactly. If you were a gentleman, you would’ve kissed me in that maze when I was basically begging you to,” she mumbles under her breath. The words are quiet and hurried, but there’s no mistaking exactly what she said.

I grab her by the elbow, keeping my grip around her firm but gentle as I pull her the rest of the way to the doorstep. “One could argue that the gentlemanly thing to do was to not kiss you.”

“I think I preferred it when you were brooding and not talking.”

We reach the front doorstep, but I’m still not ready to say good night to her just yet. “Were you giving me the silent treatment because you were mad I didn’t kiss you?”

Her eyes go wide as if she wasn’t expecting me to be so direct. I’ve had plenty of time to gather my thoughts and regret not giving in and kissing her when she asked me to. Now, if she asked me again, I’d tell her yes.

Emma is quiet for a moment, and I’m learning that her silence drives me wild. She’s not normally quiet. She’s vocal about the thoughts running through her head, and right now, I want to know every last one of them.

“You might have been right. Maybe we shouldn’t kiss unless it’s to make the fake dating thing more believable.”

I take a step forward. In return, she takes a step back. It repeats until her back is against the front door, putting us in the same position we were in earlier. “Is that what you want?”

“Is what what I want?”

My fingers twitch at my sides, wanting to reach out and touch her. “Do you not want to kiss me anymore?”

Her eyes flutter shut for a moment before opening again. “I’ve already told you I want to kiss you. But now that I’ve thought about it, I can’t help but wonder that if we kiss, it might mess things up.”

“Mess what up?”

“I don’t know. We just met, so I wouldn’t call us friends, considering I thought about kissing you since the moment I saw you, but also, we’re pretending to be dating. I don’t want things to feel…real when they’re not.”

“Is you wanting to kiss me not real?”

She lets out a sigh of annoyance. “No, that’s very real. But I’m only equipped to play a girlfriend right now, not be one, and I don’t want us kissing outside of playing the part to make things complicated.”

I laugh. “I do hate complicated.”

“So if we kiss—” Her eyes flick to my lips for a moment before she looks back at me to finish her thought. “If we kiss, we have to know that nothing will happen outside of this week. We’ll play the part…we’ll have fun. But after the wedding, you’ll go back to being a celebrity who clearly doesn’t want to settle down, and I’ll get back to finding myself and not having incredibly hot football players distract me from that.”

I swallow, resisting the urge to tell her that it has nothing to do with me wanting to settle down or not. I want my life to slow down, to focus on things outside of football. But I owe it to myself and my teammates to give my all to what will most likely be my last year of football.

Emma anxiously licks her lips, her chest rising and falling in quick breaths. I stare at her lips. They’re perfectly full—and the only thing I’ve thought about for hours.

“Preston, what are you thinking about?”

“Your lips.” I know she’s wary of kissing in private, but tasting her again is all I can think about. She keeps glancing at mine, something I don’t even think she knows she’s doing, but something that’s driving me wild. I don’t agree with holding back, not if we both want it as much as I believe we do.

“What about my lips?”

“They look like they need mine.”