Bright Lights and Summer Nights: A Fake Dating Billionaire Sports Romance (Black Tie Billionaires)

“Emma, darling, tell us more about your family,” Gram softly demands from across the table.

My stomach sinks a little as I try not to pay attention to the number of eyes on me. We’ve been at the event for a little over an hour, giving me the opportunity to meet the guests at the same table as us. We’re under a tent, giving us a small reprieve from the hot rays of the summer sun.

“Um,” I respond. My leg taps underneath the table as I try to think about how much I want to divulge to the people looking at me. They seem nice for the most part—except Marsha, who has been staring daggers at me the entire time I’ve been here.

A large, warm hand finds my leg. Preston’s fingertips burn through the thin fabric of my dress as he digs them into my thigh, forcing me to stop with the anxious tapping. “Gram, why don’t we not interrogate my girlfriend over hors d’oeuvres?”

A shiver runs down my spine at the possessive way he says girlfriend. I’ve only heard it come from his mouth a few times, and it’s something I don’t know if I could ever get used to.

Gram gives me an apologetic smile before taking a drink of her whiskey. It’s something I love about her. The server stopped by to try and hand her a champagne with cotton candy placed on top, and she immediately shot the server down. She was polite about it, but it didn’t take long for her to request something a little stronger—something certainly with more of a kick.

“I’m sorry, Emma. I don’t mean anything wrong by the question. I’m just so intrigued by the woman who finally locked down Preston’s heart.”

My cheeks heat with her comment. I fight the urge to correct her that I absolutely haven’t locked down Preston’s heart. I wait for Preston to do it, but he doesn’t. Braving a look over at him, I find him already watching me. He seems deep in thought, two tiny lines appearing right between his dark eyebrows.

His eyes rip from mine, as if he just realized that I was staring back at him. “The fact that she’s captivated my attention should tell you all you need to know.”

My body jolts at his words—at the directness of them. The delivery leaves no room for questions. He squeezes my thigh, reminding me that his hand never left in the first place.Text © owned by NôvelDrama.Org.

Gram smiles and even aims a wink in my direction. “Your reaction tells me a lot,” she offers.

It doesn’t happen a lot, but I’m too stunned to even respond right away. The possessive way Preston speaks about me, the way he reassuringly keeps his hand placed on my thigh, it really feels like he’s a boyfriend sticking up for me.

I have to remind myself that he and I only met last night. After speaking with him for five minutes, it felt like we’d known each other for much longer. We just clicked like that.

I clear my throat, trying to ignore all of the people staring at me. Even Peyton, who was deep in conversation with Jackson and someone else, has focused her attention on me.

“Growing up, it was just me and my aunt Vanessa. My mom got into an accident when I was a baby and passed away before my first birthday. My grandparents had both passed, and my mom never told my aunt who my father was. My aunt was young, but she raised me as her own. It’s just been me and Aunt V my entire life. She’s my best friend, and I owe everything to her. She pushed me to leave Illinois and go to school in New York, even though I’d never known anything but her.”

“That’s beautiful,” Gram responds, holding her glass of whiskey to her lips.

I shrug. I’ll never stop shouting from the rooftops about how much Aunt V means to me. She didn’t have to become a mother to me at twenty-one, but she did anyway. She put her entire life on pause for me, and now that I haven’t lived in Illinois for years, it worries me that she never gave herself time to fall in love.

She lives alone, and I’m constantly at war with wanting to return home to be with her. All I can do is really try to get my life together this summer and make her proud—and make sure that I visit home every now and then.

Preston’s hand strokes along my thigh. I’m thankful I didn’t wear one of my shorter dresses because I’m not sure what I’d do if I felt his skin against mine right there. When agreeing to be his fake girlfriend, I didn’t take into account the fact that I was already incredibly attracted to him and what might happen as we continue to play the part.

He leans in close, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear. “You hadn’t told me any of that.” His voice is low with a hint of a growl to it. Is he mad that I told everyone here before I told him?

I turn my head to the side, trying to keep my response discreet. If our cover is blown, it won’t be because of me. This new position puts his lips incredibly close to mine. His breath is hot against my cheek. I stare down so I don’t look into his eyes. I don’t know if we’ve been this close this whole time, and I don’t trust myself when I stare into his eyes.

“You didn’t ask.” I keep my voice below a whisper. “It’s not like we’ve had all the time in the world to share our stories.”

It’s only because his mouth is right next to me that I’m able to hear the rumble of disapproval from low in his throat. He shifts his body, making sure to keep his hand on my thigh, even though there’s absolutely no reason for it to be there.

Preston pretends as if no one else is here. He lifts my chin with one strong finger, and I love the small scrape of a callus I feel against my tender skin with the movement. I’m worried he might actually be upset with me by the intense set of his shoulders and the hard press of his jaw.

“You good?” he says, asking the question as if there aren’t countless pairs of eyes aimed right at us.

I nod, giving him a smile. I don’t know anything different than my mom not being with us anymore and being raised by my aunt. I’m proud to share the story of how much Aunt V sacrificed to raise me. I have never minded sharing it; it was always the way people looked at me after that I hated.

Preston doesn’t seem convinced. He narrows his eyes, his dark thick eyelashes almost dusting his sharp cheekbones with how much they’ve turned into slits. Whatever he’s thinking, he doesn’t voice anything else.

I have to look away, my eyes finding his sister’s to try and escape the intensity of her brother.

She rests her chin in between her hands with her elbows propped on the table. Her eyelids flutter as she stares at me with her mouth hanging open. “Oh my god,” she mouths at me, shaking her head slightly.

“Anyway,” I say with an anxious laugh. I look down to my plate, where my crab cake still sits. Trying to ignore the weight of Preston’s hand on my leg, I pick up my fork and take the largest bite possible. I almost force the entire thing into my mouth because I’m so anxious with everyone’s eyes on me—Preston’s especially.

I chew a few times, immediately regretting ungracefully shoving almost an entire crab cake into my face. “This crab cake is immaculate,” I manage to get out despite my mouth full of food.

This gets Gram to laugh, and soon, the rest of the table joins in as well. “Oh, Emma, you’re such a hoot,” Gram drawls. “You must stay for the family dinner later.”

I look over at Preston, my eyes wide with fear. I don’t know if I’m prepared for the small family dinner—I’m folding at one simple garden party with him.

“I’d love to,” I lie, my words coming out jumbled because of all the food in my mouth.

Preston stays silent, making me wonder if he wants me to stay tonight or if he’s ready to end the charade for the day. I try to shift in my chair to get his hand to move, but he doesn’t let me. His fingertips stay digging into the fabric of my dress for the rest of the meal.

And not for the first time in the last twenty-four hours, I ask myself what the hell I’ve gotten myself into.