Page 11 of Shy Girls Can’t Date Celebrities (Shy Girls Sweet Romances #6)

“An increase in slurred words, or less mobility,” Dr. Fincher explains. “Those sort of things. I don’t anticipate worsened memory loss, if that’s your concern. But we will need to monitor the frequency and intensity of the headaches.”

“I already feel better,” Wyatt rushes.

Dr. Fincher smiles warmly. “And have you and Josie been able to recall the same memories?”

I raise a hand. “Wyatt’s brought them up first.”

“She’s filled me in on some of the present day stuff,” Wyatt says. “But, I swear, the past is clear as day.”

“That’s fantastic,” the doctor responds.

Wyatt sits forward with eagerness. “So, I’m leaving the clinic?”

“You’re improving in psychical therapy, and with improved stress management your stutter will diminish,” Dr. Fincher replies. “So, yes you can leave after we conduct a few more tests.”

“Anything you want, doc,” Wyatt says with urgency. “I just feel like I’m broken when I’m stuck in this room.”

Dr. Fincher smiles warmly. “I certainly don’t want you to stay if you feel it’s hurting your progress. Of course, you do realize this involves some memory tests.”

Wyatt clicks his tongue. “Bummer. What if I fail again?”

Dr. Fincher chuckles to himself. “You’ve never failed one-hundred percent.”

“Does he need one-hundred percent in order to leave the clinic?” I ask.

“Not at all,” Dr. Fincher replies, clutching his clipboard close to his chest. “You still have a long recovery period, Wyatt, but I’m very optimistic for you. ”

Wyatt sighs out happily. “Thanks.”

I sit up, a sinking feeling in my gut. “Dr. Fincher, is there anything I should or shouldn’t be doing? I don’t want to hurt Wyatt’s progress.”

“You’re not tasked with anything, Josie,” the doctor replies. “Remember, you’re simply a visitor. I don’t want you to feel any pressure or stress. Yes, it’s hoped your visit has a positive impact on Wyatt’s health, but there’s a lot of factors that go into neurological issues.”

Wyatt squeezes my hand and I catch the tug in his smile.

“I would recommend not rushing Wyatt when he’s stumbling on his words.” Dr. Fincher makes sure to give Wyatt an optimistic look. “He’s doing much better. But, on the times where he slurs or misplaces a word, give him the time to adjust. It’ll help him to make the connections himself.”

I inhale deeply and nod. “Okay. I can do that.”

“Wyatt, remember you need to pause when you’re stuck on words,” Dr. Fincher says. “At least counting back from ten. Having Josie visit is a big thing for you. Of course it would increase any anxiety you are already feeling.”

Wyatt sits up. “She didn’t cause...”

Dr. Fincher raises a hand to halt his sentence. “Excitement and anxiety can feel more alike than we realize.”

At that, Wyatt blushes.

“How’s the vision?”

“It’s okay, I just had a really bad headache.”

“I’ll have another dose of painkillers administered on the hour.” Dr. Fincher taps his clipboard against his chest and turns toward the door. “Keep up the good work.”

“That sounded positive,” I say, now that we’re alone.

“Mm-hmm.”

“So, memory tests. You’ve already had them? ”

“Yeah, I’ve had a few. They seem like they should be easy, but, ugh... They’re so hard.”

“They’d probably be really hard for me too,” I reply, “and I haven’t had an injury.”

Wyatt slouches beside me, misery coloring his face.

“Hey,” I whisper, grasping his hand. “You okay?”

He exhales shakily. “I just don’t want to be broken anymore.”

“Hey,” I coo, squeezing his hand. “You had an accident, that’s all. You’ll heal. It’ll just take time.”

“But you heard the doctor,” he says, shattered. “I slur and forget words. I don’t want you seeing me like this.”

“Wyatt,” I say, bravery faltering. “I wouldn’t be a very good friend if some stuttering was a turn off.”

His smile is small as red lines his eyes. “I’m just scared.”

I sniff and water builds in my eyes. “I know. Me too.”

He pulls an arm around me. “Thank you so much for being here. I’d be going out of my mind without you.”

I lean in and peck his cheek. “We can’t have you stressing out. The doctor said that’s on the top of the no-no list.”

“I think if I get extra time with you I’ll be as mellow as a hippie.”

I giggle, watching a dimple embed in his cheek. “I’ll stay as long as they let me.”

He swipes his thumb over my chin. “You said you’d never been on a date?”

I bite into my lip. “I guess I’ve always had someone else on my mind.”

There’s something so soft and sweet about the light dancing in his eyes.

I can’t help glancing at the shine on his lower lip.

The hours I’ve spent imagining myself kissing this boy again are unfathomable.

He was my first ever kiss at twelve-years-old, and there hasn’t been anyone else since.

Not that I ever put myself out there to date another boy .

As Wyatt tilts his head like he’s about to lean in, I can’t help imagining him in the movies I’ve watched over and over. How many times I envisioned myself as the girl in his arms. And then Portia fills my mind.

I push on his chest, reclining myself away from him.

His mouth hangs ajar, startled. “What is it?”

“Uh,” I stammer. “I don’t have a boyfriend, but...”

His eyes widen as I leave him hanging.

My stomach cramps and I force out, “You might have a girlfriend.”