Page 89 of Bright Lights and Summer Nights

“I’m so sorry, Preston. Everything with you was perfect—is so perfect. I just need some time. I’m still happy I snuck into the club that night.”

“I’m so happy you did too, Em.” His voice is sad, shattering my already broken heart into a million pieces.

I don’t know a lot about love. I’ve never been in love, but as I cling to his warm body, I’m wondering if I was wrong for worrying about eventually falling in love with him. I think I’ve already fallen. I didn’t mean to. I tried to guard my heart and be realistic that the odds were stacked against Preston and me, but my cautiousness was useless.

“I refuse to believe this is the end for us,” Preston says against my hair. “For the next several months, I will devote myself to nothing but football. I hope you’ll do the same and realize that you don’t have to have your whole life figured out to be loved. And then, it’ll be us together in the end. The rest of the world and their opinions be damned.”

I don’t respond. All I do is savor the last few moments of feeling what it’s like to be wrapped in his arms. I’ve become so used to the feel of his body against mine, to his scent, even to the familiar beat of his heart. We may not have known each other the longest, but we’ve spent every day together for months. I know him better than I ever thought, and it’s killing me having to let him go.

“Goodbye, Preston.” My words come out muffled because of my face being pressed to his chest. His arms tighten around me with the farewell, as if he’s trying to prolong the inevitable just a little bit longer.

I brace my palms against his chest and push off him. I’m scared if I stay in his arms any longer that I’ll change my mind. Changing my mind won’t help either of us, not in the long run. Not if we actually want this to work between us.

“You better win that Super Bowl, Rhodes.” I force a smile, wanting him to get that dream more than anything.

His eyes are red, making the cobalt blue color pop. “Only if you’ll celebrate with me after.”

“Deal.” There’s a lot of time between now and the Super Bowl in February. Maybe it isn’t too far-fetched to think I’ll be in a better place by that time. I’d love to celebrate his success after he wins it all like I know he will.

Preston tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear, letting his fingers linger against my neck. “I’ll miss you, Em. You let me know when you’re ready and I’m yours.”

One last tear falls down my cheek. He watches it fall and land against my T-shirt. He stares at the small wet spot for a moment before he rips his eyes away and looks at my packed bags. “Let me help you get these to the elevator.”

“I’ve got it,” I argue, trying to take the bag from him.

“Emma, if you’re going to break my heart, let me at least help you to the door.”

All I can do is nod, not knowing what to even say back to that. I let him lead me to the elevator, holding nothing but my purse as he grabs everything else. He presses the intercom next to the elevator, calling for one of the doormen to help me the rest of the way.

Standing in front of the metal doors, waiting for the elevator to reach our floor, makes everything seem so final. He stands a few feet away from me, his eyes on the ground. He doesn’t say anything, and I don’t either. I don’t know if there’s really anything else to say.

When the doors open, he hands my bags over to Benson, one of the doormen I’ve grown fond of since we came back to Manhattan. It happens too quickly. I want more time with him even when I know I shouldn’t, when I’m the one that made this decision for us.

Preston’s eyes find mine, and I feel like the defeated way he looks at me will forever be burned in my mind. “Remember what I said, Em. I meant every word.”

And without any further goodbye, he turns and walks down the hallway to his condo.

I watch him the entire way.

When I turn to face Benson, I know the tears streaming down my face are obvious. I step in the elevator, trying to wipe them away. All my life, I’ve said I just wanted a man to want me and spoil me, and here I am finally getting one, and I’m walking away from him. But it’s necessary. No matter how much it hurts.

Sadness washes over me as the elevator descends. All I can do is hope that I made the right decision. Putting myself first has never felt so shitty, but at the end of this, I hope Preston’s right. I hope it’ll be us.

If not, I’ll forever be grateful for the summer nights we spent together where he was mine.

CHAPTER 47

EMMA - ONE MONTH LATER

“Could you bring the Oreos too?” Aunt V asks me from the couch. She adjusts the sheet mask on her face, huffing when it continues to slip over her eyes and not stay on correctly.

I smile from the small, attached kitchen, busy cutting the tops of different candy bags open and pouring them into a large bowl. It’s called a candy salad, and it’s been Vanessa’s and my favorite late-night snack in the month that I’ve been back home with her.

“I like the way you think, Aunt V.” My eyes move from her perched on the couch to my phone that sits on a stand next to me on the counter. “The thing about girls’ night is that you have to go big or go home. Junk food combined with skincare is peak girlhood,” I tell my audience in the video I’m filming to post later.

“Preach!” Aunt V yells from the living room, her eyes trained on the TV.

We’re having a celebratory girls’ night because I’ve been nominated at an award show for breakout internet star. My management team begged me to fly to LA to attend the event, but I wasn’t ready to step into the spotlight and have the media hound me with questions.

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