Page 73 of Bright Lights and Summer Nights

I rub my lips together, wondering what’s the best way to start the conversation. My cheeks puff out as I let out a deep breath. “The first night we met…my first night here…”

He lifts an eyebrow, the hint of a smile on his lips. “I remember it very well.”

His response makes me smile and calms my nerves slightly. “Well, that night, I decided to make a video—while very tipsy— and tell my small number of followers at the time about coming to the Hamptons to figure my life out. I was honest, almost too honest, telling them how I wanted to make mistakes and learn this summer and find myself by the end of it. I guess it resonated with a lot of people in the same position as me because I woke up the next morning to a ton more followers and that video at millions of views. Instead of panicking about being in the limelight, I decided to try and embrace it. I’ve been filling them in on the week we’ve had together…leaving out the exact details, of course, to keep your family’s privacy.”

My stomach is in knots awaiting his response. I should’ve told him sooner—I know that—but I also just didn’t know how to admit to this man that I’ve gone viral for being a complete mess.

My heart is about to beat right out of my chest when he finally responds. The corner of his mouth turns up in what I swear is the start of a smile. Maybe he’s not upset like I feared he’d be.

“I know.”

I’ve already opened my mouth to begin apologizing when it snaps shut as his words register. “You know?” Out of all the responses he could’ve given me, the one he gave was one that never crossed my mind.

Preston nods. “One of Peyton’s bridesmaids saw the video and showed Peyton, so then Peyton showed me. I liked the video. It takes a lot of courage to be that vulnerable with strangers.”

My face feels hot with his answer. I never thought about how viral the video went and how people I’m spending the week with could be watching my updates without me even knowing.

He reaches out and lifts my chin so I look at him. “Why are you turning red? It isn’t a big deal. Peyton changed my name in her phone to Sports Guy as a joke. You couldn’t think of a better nickname?”

I groan as I fall facedown into my pillow. “I can’t believe you knew and didn’t tell me.”

“I figured you’d tell me about it when you wanted to…if you wanted to.” He places his hand on my back. The weight of it feels good despite the utter embarrassment rushing through me.

I keep my face buried in the pillow. Realistically, I should’ve thought about the fact someone attending the wedding would see the video. Not to mention, the videos I’ve posted after are getting way more views than I can even comprehend. I should’ve known better.

“I can’t believe your entire family knows I’m such a mess.”

“I don’t know if Peyton told anyone but me. If anyone in the family knows, they haven’t mentioned it. You’re not a mess. You’re just figuring life out.”

With a dramatic sigh, I push my body off the pillow and muster up the confidence to meet his eyes. The skin around them crinkles at the sides from his grin. “You’re kind of cute when you’re embarrassed.”

“So, you’re not mad at all?”

His fingers still rest on the small of my back, except now they trace little circles that make my skin break out in goosebumps. “No, I’m not mad. You haven’t done anything wrong. I hate anything on the internet only because of the narrative they paint of me. I like how you’re choosing what you’re putting out there and telling your own story the way you want it to be told.”

“You’re acting like anyone cares about my story.”

His head cocks to the side. “Clearly, tons of people care not only about your story but about you, rebel.” He’s quiet for a moment, his eyes tracking my face before his next words are said in an almost whisper. “I feel the same as them.”

My chest hitches with his admission. Something in the air feels different between us this morning, and I don’t know why. It might be the fact it’s the morning, and I’ve never spent the morning in bed with someone before. Or maybe it’s the fact that the sunlight filtering through the curtains paints everything in a more vulnerable light. The way his hair is messy or that there’s a tiny line across his cheek from where he slept on his pillow. It makes everything feel less guarded.

“I promise I won’t tell people about us. Even after this week…I won’t put your name out there when it’s so obvious you try to stay away from social media.”

I’ve never once mentioned what sport he plays or what club all of the events are taking place at. There are tons of country clubs here in the Hamptons, just none of them as exclusive as Pembroke Hills. I’ve read comments where people swore they saw me and a former baseball player at Hilltop Country Club, and more where they argued I’ve actually been spotted with a former Olympic swimmer at Fairway Club.

I can’t keep track of all my comments, but I have been reading some, and from what I can tell, no one has caught on to the fact I’ve been at Pembroke with Preston, but then again, no one has been posting about Peyton’s wedding at all.

She mentioned to me at the garden party that she didn’t want any pictures from the events posted online until after the nuptials took place just so she could post the professional ones first. Still, I should probably check with her that my videos haven’t given too many details about her wedding celebrations to the world before she was ready.

“You don’t have to make that promise to me. I trust you. All you’re doing is sharing your story, and I’m the lucky sports guy that gets to be a part of your journey.”

This conversation has gone way better than I thought it would, making me feel almost worse because I should’ve just told him the moment he picked me up for the garden party. At that point, I was still coming to terms with the fact my face—and my hot mess of a story—was in front of millions of viewers. Now I’m just…

“Oh my god,” I rush out in a panic as a thought pops into my head. “Did I blow our cover for Peyton, then? I’ve said in my videos how we just met and?—”

He places his fingers to my lips. “I told her we came up with that part of the story ahead of time for privacy reasons.”

I frown. “And she believed it?”

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