Page 8 of Bright Lights and Summer Nights

“I’m entitled to keeping my private life private,” I answer, reaching out for Emma. I take her hand and pull her closer. She narrowly avoids spilling her shot all over Marsha in the process. I look down at Emma with affection. “My Emma really likes to keep things private. Don’t you, sweetie?”

Emma, to her own credit, doesn’t move away from my touch. If anything, she leans a little closer, allowing me to wrap my arm around her.

“You know me,” she says through gritted teeth. “I never share my personal details.”

My lips twitch as I fight a smile. I don’t know her well, but in the conversation we’ve had tonight, I’ve learned that she’s an open book.

“Is this new?” Marsha asks, her eyes bouncing between Emma and me.

“Yes,” Emma answers immediately.

“Not really,” I say at the same time.

Emma looks up at me with her eyebrows drawn. As if she’s just remembering she still hasn’t taken her shot, she lifts it to her lips and drinks it completely. She sets the glass on the bar and wraps her other arm around my middle.

Leaning in, she gets as close to my ear as possible. “I’m going to kill you,” she whispers, looking at Marsha with a smile. “I’m not your freaking girlfriend.”

I pretend to not hear her. It wasn’t my intention to say that to Marsha, but the last thing I want is to have her hanging over me all weekend. A little white lie and a few minutes of pretending we’re dating would deter Marsha for the week. I’ll make sure to thank Emma for going along with it later.

“It’s time we go visit the other party guests,” I announce, grabbing Emma by the arm. I hold her tight enough in hopes that she won’t move but loose enough that if she wanted to get away from me, she easily could. “I’d love to introduce my girlfriend to the other guests, so we’ll be going.”

“Girlfriend?” I hear my sister shout from across the bar.

“Oh fuck,” I mumble, realizing this tiny lie just got a whole lot bigger with the beaming smile on P’s face.

“Who is that?” Emma asks in concern, watching Marsha walk away.

My teeth grind together as I turn around and stop directly in front of Emma. She yelps. Her hands falling to my chest are the only reason she doesn’t walk right into me.

“Here’s the thing,” I begin, glancing over my shoulder to see my sister doing her best to get to us despite guests trying to steal her attention. “I’m going to need you to pretend to be my girlfriend. Just for tonight. Can you do that for me?”

“No,” Emma answers immediately. Her eyes are wide as they scan my face. She’s looking at me like I’ve completely lost my mind, and I’m not sure I blame her.

I look up at the ceiling for a minute before looking back at her. I hope she can see the vulnerability in my features. I don’t ask favors from people often—certainly not from strangers—but the giddy look on my sister’s face is not something I want to wipe away the week of her wedding. “Please?” I ask, knowing that any second now, Peyton is going to come barreling into us.

“I don’t know you,” she whispers, even though it isn’t necessary. Peyton has been stopped by friends of my parents, buying us a little more time. “I can’t just pretend to be your girlfriend.”

“Just for tonight. Do it for me and I won’t tell anyone that the real reason you’re here is because you snuck into my sister’s wedding arrival party.”

Emma gasps, and before I can apologize for the cheap shot, Peyton makes it to us.

“Preston,” Peyton says through a bright smile. “Who do we have here? Have you been hiding a girlfriend from me?” Peyton’s eyes giddily bounce between Emma and me as she waits for me to answer.

Emma pinches my arm, clearly not happy with how this is playing out.

I ignore it, hoping my sister will make this quick. I stifle a groan, knowing that Peyton has begged for me to bring a girlfriend around her for years. Something tells me she’s about to want to spend all night speaking with Emma instead of enjoying her own party.

“Peyton, this is my girlfriend, Emma.” I put my arm around Emma once again, letting out a sigh of relief when she doesn’t run. Her posture is stiff, letting me know that while she hasn’t completely ratted me out for my lie, she’s clearly not loving this whole experience either.

Peyton’s entire face lights up. Emma awkwardly holds her hand out to shake Peyton’s, but Peyton completely ignores it and instead rips her from my grasp and wraps her arms around her neck.

“Oh my god. I’ve always wanted a sister,” my sister admits, keeping her arms pinned around Emma.

“Great,” Emma responds, her voice tight.

Fuck. What have I gotten her into?

“P, let her breathe,” I demand.

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