Page 15 of Shy Girls Can’t Date Celebrities (Shy Girls Sweet Romances #6)

The only thing that pulled me away last night was Wyatt’s obvious exhaustion despite his nap.

Nurse Ronnie walked me out after dinner.

She told me, seeing me would’ve given Wyatt such a thrill that he used up more energy than usual.

I can’t help feeling bad that my visit wiped him out.

A crushing amount of confusion running through his head, unable to remember how much time we’ve spent apart.

I got back to my hotel after the man in black called for an SUV to pick me up at the clinic.

After wiping off my makeup, I replied to the several unread texts from Kylie, and sent her the cutest photo of me and Wyatt on my camera roll.

I then called Mom and checked if it was too late to read to the twins.

She gladly put them on the phone, obviously exhausted from dealing with them solo.

After our story session, I was out as soon as my head hit the pillow.

Waking up after the best sleep of my life, breakfast was brought to me in the presidential suite. Not only was the bed like sleeping on a cloud, but I was on a high from actually being in the same room as Wyatt.

I’ll never get enough of it.

After conference-calling my parents on their respective commutes, I take a shower and dress in my freshly cleaned pink outfit from yesterday. With a final check of my curls in the mirror, I leave the suite to find Erika and Randall. They wanted to meet up before I leave for the Clearview Clinic.

When I step into the hallway, I stumble backward, awkwardly retreating into my suite.

Ahead, Wyatt’s parents are talking with Erika and Randall.

Mr. and Mrs. Hayes’s arm movements are wild, and there’s aggression in their stances.

I gulp, holding myself up with the door handle as I take in the heated intensity.

Randall gestures at the elevator, his eyes fixed on Wyatt’s parents. “Let’s get a coffee and talk about this.”

“Why are you pushing us out?” Mrs. Hayes wails. “He’s our son. We are entitled to more than this.”

Entitled? Why does that word make my muscles cramp?

“No one’s pushing you out,” Erika’s voice cuts through.

“This is just like before,” Mrs. Hayes says, her arms flailing. “You’re still playing games with us.”

Games? Oh geez, I really shouldn’t be listening to this.

“Wyatt is pulling through,” Mr. Hayes says, clutching his wife’s shoulder. “Soon, he’ll be well enough to voice his opinion.” He cuts a look at Erika. “His real opinion.”

As sweat builds against my hairline, I swallow the jitters warping their way through my body.

“I don’t like his limitations either,” Erika says. “But we brought Wyatt here because Dr. Fincher is one of the best neurologists in the country. Working with him is the best way to ensure Wyatt’s memory returns.”

“The doctor said there are no guarantees,” Mrs. Hayes says, shivering against her husband.

“Please don’t fret,” Erika says. “We aren’t sparing a dime.”

Mr. Hayes stands tall and his voice is gruff, “Yet that’s where you people always cut off the conversation, isn’t it?”

“Josie?” Randall’s voice halts their conversation as everyone in the hall turns and stares at me.

I stumble against my ajar door. “Umm. I wasn’t eavesdropping. I swear.”

Randall turns back to Wyatt’s parents and gestures toward the elevator. “Please, Mr. and Mrs. Hayes, come downstairs to the restaurant and we’ll talk this out. I understand your frustrations.”

With huffs of defeat, Wyatt’s parents leave with Randall.

Before they board the elevator, Mrs. Hayes turns back at me with red-rimmed eyes and it crushes my heart.

I can’t imagine what they’re going through.

First, their son becomes a star, and now he’s in a clinic, struggling to come to terms with the person he’s become.

“Josie,” Erika says, storming toward me. “Open up your room. I need to light up and your balcony is the closest place.”

I flinch as she enters my suite. “You smoke?”

She humphs , taking out a cigarette pack and a lighter from her purse. “You would too if you had my life.”

She makes her way over to the sliding door, leading to my balcony, and I fidget my way across the room. Am I supposed to join her or give her space?

After a few desperate drags, Erika holds the cigarette behind her, leaning back into the room. “How was your visit yesterday?”

“Really good.”

“And he remembered you? ”

“Yeah, he didn’t miss a beat.”

Relief fills Erika’s face. “Thank goodness. The doc was worried his past might still be patchy. This is really good news.”

“I agree. Maybe I should tell his parents. They seemed really freaked out.”

“Don’t worry about them,” Erika says, brushing it off. “Randall’s placating them downstairs. All we need you to do is keep Wyatt focused on remembering your past together.”

We? Who exactly is we ?

Gosh, could skeptical dad please get out of my head?

“Do you always stand like that?” Erika comments, judgment in her stare.

“Huh?” I stand upright in a flash, not realizing how bad my hunch had become.

“You know, if you want to be seen around Wyatt, you gotta act the part.” Erika puffs on her cigarette, the cloud of smoke wafting into the room. “You know how the world sees him. You should want to act like you belong in the same space as him.”

I hug my middle, willing myself not to lean or fidget. “I will.”

Erika flings cigarette ash onto the balcony floor and my mouth waters in the worst way. I swallow hard, suppressing the urge to retch at the putrid stench.

A throaty laugh hums out of Erika. “You’d better.”

I stiffen. “Does that mean you could send me home?”

Her cackle unsettles me further. “Why would I do that? You’re the most valuable tool I have at the moment.”

Tool?

What the actual heck?

“Do you remember I had a meeting yesterday with our financial manager?” Erika asks and then takes another drag like her life depends on it. “We’re in a very unpleasant limbo regarding Wyatt. We were in the middle of some changes for him and this incident has come at the absolute worst time.”

“I’m sure he didn’t plan on ruining things.”

“All I’m saying is, we are very hopeful of your influence bringing him back to form,” Erika says, a smoke haze billowing past her face. “Wyatt will be released from Clearview very soon, and we can’t wait for him to be back in meetings with us.”

I bite inside my cheek as icy prickles embed themself along my spine. “You don’t plan to rush him, right? He still needs recovery time.”

Heck, he doesn’t even know your name, Erika! He called you Erin!

There’s a metallic taste in my mouth as I bite down hard to keep those thoughts from slipping off my tongue.

“There’s just a few things we need quick action on. Anything you can do to keep him in a stress-free headspace as we lead up to our meetings is greatly appreciated.”

I try to rid the contempt from my face. The best way to make him stress-free is keeping him well away from Erika and the rest of her team.

“I’m just here for Wyatt. I don’t plan on having anything to do with your business stuff.”

Erika smiles but I can’t get a read on her. “Of course, dear.”

“Besides, shouldn’t his parents be the one to help him get into that headspace? I mean, he’s still a minor. Can’t they act on his behalf?”

Something shifts in Erika, but it quickly dissolves back to her flat facade. “We’re in the same talks with Mr. and Mrs. Hayes we’ve always been. No need to worry about that.”

“But they looked so distraught. Shouldn’t they...”

Erika cuts me off. “I really don’t have time to talk about Wyatt’s parents. Besides, you should be getting back to Clearview.”

I back away slowly. “Maybe I should just speak to them before I go?”

Erika huffs. “Look, if you really want to chat with Wyatt’s parents, I’m sure they’ll be back at the clinic today. Or, if they don’t show up, they’re staying on this floor.” There’s an air of annoyance in her tone. “We’ve had to give them the royal treatment, of course.”

“He is their son,” it comes out of me wounded. I mean, why wouldn’t they get a fancy suite if I did? They’re the most important people in his life. I’ve been a ghost for nearly two years.

Erika stomps on her cigarette and shuts the balcony door behind her. “Come on,” she says, marching past me. “I’ll take the car to the clinic with you.”

“Okay,” I say, trailing behind.

Why do I get the sinking feeling she wants to make sure I avoid Wyatt’s parents?

Downstairs, Erika beckons me to follow her toward the revolving front door of the hotel. As we near, loud chatter bursts in from off the street. I slow my pace as a hard wave of unease crashes over me. As Erika beckons me to hurry up, the distinct clicks of cameras prick my ears.

What the actual heck is going on out there?

Erika snaps her fingers. “ Today , Josie.”

I swallow the warning signs leaping up from my cramping stomach and force my feet forward. The chatter gets faster as people with phones and DSLR cameras get a glimpse of us exiting the Gran Palacio Hotel.

“That’s her,” someone yells across the mass of voices. “The girl who was with Lexy Davenport yesterday. Erika, Erika! Who is this mysterious girl?”

My chest constricts as the whole crowd sucks air out of the space around me. My knees clang together and I shiver as lenses zoom in on me.

Security opens the back of our idle SUV, and Erika pushes past the onlookers, entering the car first. Barely keeping upright, I make my way across the sidewalk.

With locked shoulders against my earlobes, I cup my hands around my face as strangers fire questions at me.

Someone flashes their camera at me, and while I blink away the spots and someone else grabs my arm.

“Hey!” the security guard barks. “Get back and keep your hands to yourselves!”

I launch myself into the car, panting my breaths as security closes the car door. I shudder, still feeling the person’s handprint on the top of my arm. My stomach jitters and bile lines the back of my throat.