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

“Darling, you don’t have to ask me to dance,” Gram responds to Emma, staring at her outstretched hand.

“I know I don’t have to. But I never say no to dancing, and the table is kind of like a pier. Right?” Emma smiles cautiously. She chews on her bottom lip as if she’s worried that Gram might not take her up on her offer.

I watch Gram anxiously, not sure what she’ll do. Emma’s idea is certainly out of the box, but it makes me admire her even more. Her determination to recreate a memory for a woman she just met yesterday makes an unfamiliar feeling run through me. I try to shake it off, but the feeling only intensifies when Gram takes her hand and allows Emma to pull her off the pillow.

“Peyton, dance with us?” Emma asks, looking over to my sister with a more confident smile this time.

Peyton eagerly jumps out of Jackson’s arms and steps onto the table.

“Everyone, grab your drinks!” Emma demands, picking her drink up and taking a sip.

Surprising me, both Mom and Dad follow Emma’s direction. They each pick up their drink, allowing more room for Gram, Peyton, and Emma to have room to dance.

Gram laughs nervously, holding on to Emma for support. “We don’t have any music.”

“You’re in luck—kind of.” She giggles, taking off one of her heels and then the other. She throws them both at me, reminding me of last night when I first met her. “I’m a terrible singer,” Emma continues. “But my mind is like a vault of song lyrics. Hope you like One Direction.”

Peyton lets out an excited scream. “Oh my god, were you a Directioner, too?”

“Huge,” Emma responds immediately.

“Two Direction who?” Gram asks, standing between Emma and Peyton, looking completely lost.

This makes both Emma and Peyton bust out in a fit of laughter.

Sliding my phone from my pocket, I hold it up. “I know this isn’t technically the same thing, but we have new and improved technology now. What if I just play a song?” I offer.

“I think that’s Preston’s way of nicely telling us he doesn’t want to hear us sing,” Emma chirps, wrapping her arm around Gram.

“Or his way of ensuring I don’t have to listen to Two Direction,” Gram quips.

I chuckle, thumbing through the music on my phone to try and find something Gram would like. “Any requests, Gram?”

Gram shakes her head.

As a joke, I land on “Cotton Eye Joe,” expecting all of them to whine. Instead, Emma’s mouth drops open with excitement. “Oh, don’t threaten me with a good time.” She holds her drink in one hand and takes Gram in the other. “Peyton, grab Gram’s other hand. We’re getting down right now.”

In a fit of laughter, the three of them begin to dance in a circle around the table, knocking down flowers and candles in the process. The mess they’re creating doesn’t stop them at all. The laughs get deeper, their movements get quicker, and soon, the three of them are doing twirls on the table while belting out the lyrics to “Cotton Eye Joe.”

I stare at Emma, completely in awe of her. I can’t do anything but focus on every single one of her movements. She’s breathtaking, and I’m starting to wonder if Davis did have a point earlier. He was right about one thing: she’s absolutely magnetic, pulling every single one of my family members in—myself included.

My mom—who has never been known as the life of the party and has always preferred standing on the outskirts—pulls up her dress and climbs onto the table to join them. Soon, the four of them are spinning one another on the table, completely oblivious to the fact the song has changed to a slow one I don’t even recognize.

I lean in closer, halfway wishing I was up there holding Emma’s hand and spinning her around the makeshift pier instead of my sister.

Emma throws her head back, laughing at something Gram says. I can’t hear whatever comment Gram made, but I still watch Emma closely, wondering if I could ever get her to laugh like that for me.

She opens her eyes, straightening her neck, and her eyes immediately land on mine.

I’m mesmerized.

She lights up the room with everything she does. Her bright smile. Her carefree laugh. The small gesture of asking Gram to dance to try and give her a piece of her past back. The effortless way she brings my mom out of her shell.

All I know is that I can’t look away from her.

I don’t know how many songs go by with the four of them just dancing on top of the table. It’s as if not a single one of them has a care in the world. My dad and I smile and laugh right along with them. Even Jackson joins in.

I can’t tell you the last time I remember laughing with my family the way we have tonight. It may have been years since we all let go like this and just enjoyed ourselves.

And it’s all because of the woman dancing in front of me. She lifts her arm, letting her fingers dangle in the air and waits for Peyton to take them. She does, and Emma begins to spin Peyton around like she’s a ballerina.

“I might get dizzy,” Peyton gets out between fits of laughter.

Emma straightens one of her arms in front of her and takes a step back, accidentally knocking down one of the vases of flowers still standing. Peyton copies the same movement until both their arms are completely outstretched.

Peyton pulls Emma in, twirling her all the way until Peyton’s arms are wrapped around Emma’s middle. They rock back and forth together before Emma spins out of the embrace. The music playing from my phone comes to a stop at the perfect time.

All of their chests heave from the dancing—or maybe it’s the laughter.

“What a show!” Jackson claps, staring at my sister with so much love and adoration that it makes me feel a little guilty about hating on some of his outfit choices.

Gram pulls Emma into a huge hug, wrapping her thin arms around Emma and holding tight. They stand right in front of me, allowing me to hear what’s said.

“Thank you for that, sweet girl,” Gram says, her hand circling Emma’s back. “Thank you for allowing me to feel young again.”

I swallow, looking down at my lap because of the overwhelming sense of gratitude I feel toward Emma at the moment. I sigh, unable to figure out if it’s gratitude or something more that courses through me.

“You are young,” Emma counters to Gram, allowing my grandmother to embrace her for as long as she desires.

Gram finally pulls away, cupping Emma’s cheeks in both her hands. “Nothing’s made me feel that young—and free—in a long time, and it’s all because of you, my dear.”

I look up in time to see my mom nodding in agreement. Dad holds his hand out, helping Mom down from the table.

With a sigh, completely at a loss with the feelings that are taking over me, I stand up. I take a step forward, standing at the edge of the table. Holding my hand out, I gesture for Gram to take it.

“Let me help you down,” I demand, unable to meet Emma’s eyes at the moment.

I don’t know what’s happening to me, but I know the reason my heart pounds in my chest and my throat feels clogged is because of her. The woman pretending to be my fake girlfriend. The one I’m supposed to never see again after this week. The one smiling at me with flushed cheeks from the dancing. The one who might cause far more trouble for me this week than I was ever expecting.

Gram safely steps to the ground at the same time Jackson helps Peyton get down, leaving Emma standing up there alone.

I extend my hand out for her. I tell myself it’s because it’s the gentlemanly thing to do and not because I want to feel the press of her skin against mine. I ignore the way my heart lurches inside my chest out of pure excitement when she places her hand in mine.

I don’t think I breathe the few seconds it takes to get her off the table.

“Now, you be the romantic one,” Gram demands a few feet away from me. She picks up the drink she’d handed to Jackson in the middle of dancing and takes a long drink from it. “Kiss her!”

“Yes!” Peyton excitedly agrees. “C’mon, Preston.”

Emma looks up at me with wide eyes. It’s the same look she gave me last night when I introduced her as my girlfriend. She tries to laugh it off. “Oh, Preston isn’t really one for PDA,” she explains, trying to give them all a knowing look.

This makes Gram let out a snort. “Nonsense. Give her a kiss, Preston.”

I swallow, not knowing what to do. Gram is persistent. Mix in Peyton also demanding the kiss, and I don’t see a way out of this.

Emma and I look at one another. No one knows we’ve never kissed. We’ve never even come close to kissing…we only met last night. I was too busy roping her into being my fake girlfriend to enjoy the night with her and end it with a kiss.

“Who says I don’t like PDA?” I ask, slowly placing my hand on the small of her back.

She stiffens underneath my touch but doesn’t move.

My lips part.

Her lips part.

“We don’t have to,” Emma whispers, her hands finding my chest.

I don’t respond. It’s at the tip of my tongue to tell her I want to, that the thought of kissing her has been at the back of my mind since I first saw her last night.

“Oh, get to it,” Gram pushes. Voices ring out in agreement with her.This is the property of Nô-velDrama.Org.

Emma’s trembling fingers tighten around the fabric of my shirt as she pulls me a little closer to her. The front of our bodies become flush with one another. Her body relaxes into mine.

Time seems to stand still as I realize how badly I want to kiss her. The desire only grows when her tongue slips out and licks along her bottom lip to wet it.

I wish the first time my lips met hers wasn’t for an audience, but I can’t seem to care too much about it right now. I’m too focused on leaning in, on relishing in the feeling of her breath caressing my lips.

If my family says anything, I don’t hear them.

I reach for her cheek, my knuckle dusting over it as I look into her eyes. “You good with kissing me in front of them, rebel?” I ask hoarsely.

She presses her cheek into my fingers, prompting me to lay my palm flat against the nape of her neck.

“I’m not the one afraid of a little PDA,” she responds, her voice teasing but breathier than normal.

I smile at that all the way until my lips meet hers.