Page 76 of Bright Lights and Summer Nights

“Ready?” he asks, stepping away from the mirror.

I nod, forcing a smile even though I just want to stop time for the night. Soon, I won’t be able to trace the ink on his body with my fingertip while he falls asleep or see his tousled hair in the morning, and that knowledge makes me sad.

I wanted to find myself this summer, but within the first week of being here, I’ve found something else. Something so deep and powerful I want to hold on to it forever, but I don’t know how.

Preston stops in front of me, grabbing each side of my face and cradling my cheeks in his palms. His thumbs brush over my cheekbones. I should tell him to be careful of the makeup I’d spent an hour applying, but I don’t. I want this moment with him. I want any moments I can get with him.

His eyes flick to my lips. I lined them with lipstick which now, looking back, was a dumb idea because I don’t know if he’ll want to kiss me and risk getting it all over him. Especially before the wedding.

As if he can read my mind, he leans in and softly brushes his lips against mine. He’s asking to kiss me without using any words, and in an instant, I’m standing on my tiptoes, even in my heels, to get better access to his mouth.

I press our lips together harder, needing more of him. He doesn’t protest. His grip on my face tightens as we fuse our mouths together. We stay like that for a few moments, savoring the nearness of one another.

I’m the first one to break contact, worried that if I allow myself to feel the press of our lips any longer, then we really will be late to Peyton’s wedding.

“Alright, Rhodes, we really do have to go. Peyton’s been talking about how over-the-top today’s going to be. I’m ready to witness it.”

This makes him laugh. He holds out his hand, and I gladly take it, letting him lead me out of the room. I grab my small purse from the kitchen counter, opening it to make sure I have everything I need.

Preston’s about to open the front door to leave when he turns around and looks at me. “Didn’t you want to make a video before leaving? Tell your followers how this elusive wedding is finally happening?”

I smile, unable to rein in the way my heart races at the fact he remembered me mentioning how I wanted to film something today. Time kind of got away from us—mostly because when he started running his hand up my thigh during breakfast, I couldn’t help but have him right there in the kitchen—so I didn’t have time to get ready and film something. “I wanted to, but it’s okay. I can give them an update later.”

He gives one shake of his head. “No. Update your followers, and then we’ll leave.”

“I’ll do it in the car.”

He stares at me, and I stare back. I’ve learned we’re both incredibly stubborn. I refuse to make him late for this wedding, so if he thinks I’m going to sit here and make a video when we should be on our way, he’s very mistaken.

Today, I win this round because with a long sigh, he turns around and opens the door, waiting for me to walk through before he closes it. As I make sure the house is locked, he’s opened the door to his rental already and is waiting for me.

“Hottest chauffeur I’ve ever had,” I joke, sliding into the seat. He put the top on for the day, something that I’m a little sad about, but I understand why he did it. I carefully curled my blonde hair for the occasion, and as much as I love feeling the breeze against my cheeks, I want to keep it nice, at least until the reception. Then all bets are off because I love dancing at weddings. Pair dancing with an open bar and my hair’s bound to be a mess by the end of tonight.

“I better be the hottest anything you’ve ever had,” Preston responds as he slides into the driver’s seat. I always find it funny how massive he looks in the sports car. He has to push the seat all the way back, and it still seems like he doesn’t quite have enough room for his long, toned legs.

“Mmmm, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” I fire back, getting out my phone to at least take a picture of myself before going to the event. I don’t know if I could record a video with Preston here even if I had the time. It’s a lot easier to talk to the camera when no one is watching you do it.

Before Preston can counter with some sort of jealous remark that’ll send my pulse spiking, I open the camera and hold my phone out in front of me. I focus my face on the screen and then snap the picture to share on my story. It’s only when I bring the phone closer to me that I realize that Preston’s arm is in it.

He puts the car in drive as I look over at him. “Your arm ruined my selfie.”

“Let me see.”

I angle the phone towards him. You can’t see his face or anything that proves who I’m with, but his arm and shoulder are in the corner of the photo, and I’m sure many people would notice him being there if I were to keep it.

“Post it. They can get a little tease of your sports guy.”

I stare at him, trying to figure out if he’s being serious. “You sure?”

“Positive.”

I can’t hide my smile, and I don’t want to. I know it isn’t a big deal. You can’t even tell who he is. But I like that he wants me to post him, even if it’s just his arm. It still means something. It feels special. So I post it with no caption at all and put my phone away.

Tonight, I want to live in the moment with him and not worry about what happens tomorrow. For tonight, he’s mine—my sports guy—and that’s got to be good enough for me.

CHAPTER 39

PRESTON

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