Page 11 of Bright Lights and Summer Nights

“Is she an ex-girlfriend?” I ask, voicing the first question that pops into my mind.

A wrinkle appears on his forehead. “Marsha?” he asks incredulously. “Absolutely not.”

“You sure? Are you trying to make her jealous? Or did she get too clingy after the two of you had a fling?”

Preston takes a step closer to me, his jaw flexing in anger. “Try again.”

I take another step backward, not wanting to be too close to him. He’s frustrating to no end, but I can’t deny that there’s some attraction between us. I can fight it and still recognize it’s there.

“You broke her heart?” I offer, my shoulders hitting the wall.

He shakes his head, tucking his hands into his pockets. “She’s been interested for years. I’ve never given her the time of day—and I don’t intend to.”

I roll my eyes. Men. I’d bet money he’s given her mixed signals, giving her just enough attention for her to think he’s interested before he ghosted her. “Oh, so you’re just too cool to give any woman attention? Is that it?” I don’t know why I’m arguing with him. It doesn’t matter. Whatever reason he has for starting this whole debacle doesn’t matter in the slightest because I want out.

“That isn’t true.”

A sarcastic laugh bubbles from my throat. “Okay.”

“The moment your heel came flying at me, I knew I wanted to give you as much attention as you’d let me.”

My mouth snaps shut. Oh shit. He’s good. I should’ve known he’d know exactly what to say to make me pause. “Is that just a line you’re using so I won’t bail?”

“It’s a line I’m using because I must admit, all night, the only person capable of capturing my attention has been you.”

I narrow my eyes, trying to figure out if he’s being sincere or not. We’ve been wrapped in our own little bubble since the moment we walked into the party. People tried to talk to him, but he brushed them off. We’d stood at the bar, lost in conversation and oblivious to everything else going on for a long time before Marsha came up and ripped us from it. He’d been nothing but attentive—which is impressive, considering I now know this is his sister’s wedding event, and I’m sure he knows almost every single person in attendance.

“Talk to me,” Preston pushes. “I know you have something to say, so just say it.”

For a moment, I refuse to meet his eyes as I try to gather my thoughts. I was having a great time with him. I even remember thinking to myself I was so grateful for the driver who encouraged me to go out tonight because it’d led me to this charming, handsome man who I could flirt with for a night. But I wanted tonight to be just that—one night of fun. We’d share some laughs—probably a few too many drinks—and I’d go home alone and wonder for the rest of my life if I should’ve let the smooth-talking man in the Hamptons take me home for the night.

Never did I think I’d find him asking me to be his pretend girlfriend for a week to appease his family. Never did I think I might actually consider it.

“Tell me what this next week would involve,” I finally offer. My lip feels raw from chewing on it.

“To be honest, I don’t remember everything on the agenda. Basically, it’ll be one fancy party after another, some in the form of brunch, some as afternoon socials, and others at night. I promise, they will all be adventures.”

“You’re really trying to sell me on this being an adventure, aren’t you?” I fold my arms across my chest, trying to decide if this is what I want to do with my week.

He rubs his lips together, giving me a coy smile. “Is it working?”

I let out an exasperated sigh. “I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “I’m all for an adventure, but you’re basically a stranger to me. I’m not sure I want to spend a week pretending to be your girlfriend. My entire reason for coming here this summer was to be alone and find myself—not pretend to be someone else.”

Preston shakes his head. “I’m not asking you to be anyone but exactly who you are, Emma. All I’m asking is for you to pretend to like me enough to be my girlfriend.” His expression is so sincere, chipping away at my resolve to keep saying no to him. “Hopefully, that isn’t too hard.”

“It might be the hardest thing I’ll ever do,” I tease.

He lifts an eyebrow. “Is that a yes?”

I shrug. “I’m still thinking about it.”

“And when will you have your answer?” His voice is rough, the sound of it sending shivers down my spine.

“I guess you’ll have to wait to find out. Let’s go back out to your sister’s party. I have to test-drive the situation a little longer before I make my decision.” I open the door, leaving him waiting behind me.

I don’t look back to see if he follows or not. I know he will. What I don’t know is if I’m going to agree to this crazy idea. One thing I know about myself is I love crazy ideas, and what I love even more is a wild story. What’s wilder than agreeing to pretend to be the fake girlfriend of this super hot guy who clearly is rich as fuck? Not much.

Preston doesn’t need to know this, but I think I already know my answer. I’ll tell him yes because I don’t want to live with the what-if of telling him no for the rest of my life.

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