Page 37 of Bright Lights and Summer Nights

PRESTON

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?”

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