Page 29 of Bright Lights and Summer Nights

“Get what?” I ask, turning around and resting my forearms against the bar.

“I get why you’d be jealous. Your date…she’s magnetic. As a bartender, I get paid to watch people. I’ve noticed how everyone is drawn to her today. It makes sense why you’d be jealous of someone else wanting her.”

I drag my knuckle along my bottom lip, thinking his words through. Was I jealous? Surely not. I’ve never been a jealous man. But is it that I’m not a jealous person or that I wasn’t interested enough in anyone to make me that way?

Clearing my throat, I straighten my spine and finish off the last of my beer. I’m not jealous; I just don’t like Holt being disrespectful.

But what if you are jealous? an annoying voice chimes in from the back of my head. I don’t listen to it any further. I’ve known her for a day—there’s no way she’s already making me jealous.

Davis has the nerve to laugh at me. He shakes his head, gently sliding the pink drink across the bar top to me. “You can go ahead and take this to her. Something tells me she’ll love it.”

I look down at the drink. “What is it?”

“A new recipe I’m messing with. Today, I’m thinking about calling it ‘The Wingman.’ What do you think?”

I roll my eyes at the kid. I like him, which is saying something because I barely tolerate anyone outside of my usual inner circle.

“I don’t need a wingman,” I declare, still taking the drink.

He lifts a shoulder. “Of course, you don’t. You’re Preston Fucking Rhodes. Just let me pretend I was one for a legend.”

This gets me to laugh. “It takes a lot to become a legend. Not sure I earned that title.” My eyes roam to where Emma still stands locked in conversation with Gram and Peyton. “Plus, the sport I play means nothing to her.”

Davis hums in surprise. “Is that refreshing?”

I look at him suspiciously, wondering why he seems to have such a read on both Emma and me. Are bartenders always this intuitive, or is it just him?

I sigh. “To be determined, Davis.”

Leaving the drink on the bar, I reach into my pocket and grab my wallet. I pull out a hundred-dollar bill and slide it across to him. “Thank you for the advice, even though I didn’t ask for it.”

“The tip isn’t necessary,” he responds, looking at it as if he’s not sure if he should take it or not.

I slide it even further toward him. “Doesn’t matter, take it.” I look around, making sure no one is watching us. “If you have a pen, I’ll sign something for you, too. Just don’t tell anyone.”

A squeaking noise comes from his throat. “Are you kidding?”

“I’m not really known for being funny,” I admit.

Davis hurriedly reaches into his pockets, finally finding a pen. He looks around, picking up a napkin and placing it carefully in front of me. “Thank you for doing this, man. I know it must get annoying when people ask you to sign something.”

I sign the napkin for him and hand it over. He laughs at what I signed.

Davis,

Let me know when you need a wingman. I owe you one.

Preston Rhodes

“Good talking to you. Hopefully, she likes the drink.”

“Taking it to her now,” I answer before making my way to Emma.

The moment her eyes meet mine and she gives me a bright smile, I wonder if maybe Davis was right. Is she getting to me more than I thought?

Even if she is, I’m not going to do something about it. I get her for the rest of this week, and I’m going to savor every moment.

CHAPTER 16

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