Page 16 of Shy Girls Can’t Date Celebrities (Shy Girls Sweet Romances #6)

“Well handled, Josie,” Erika says, scrolling on her phone.

I swallow hard, wincing at her disinterested face as my trembling hands fumble into my lap.

My dad’s skepticism leaches through me once again. Was that all a setup? Is Erika using me to keep Wyatt’s name in the gossip columns? Did they prep all those people outside, waiting for us to leave this morning?

I swallow hard again, sucking in a breath as the bile urges to release.

“ Eww ,” Erika mutters. “Are you going to be sick?”

Did she really just eww me?

“No,” I murmur, folding my arms. “I’ll be fine.”

The entire car ride, Erika taps furiously on her phone as deep set wrinkles harden into her brow. When we enter the Clearview Clinic she still appears deep in thought as she marches to the elevator and hits the number three button.

“Wyatt’s doing physical therapy in the gym,” Erika says, checking a notification on her phone. “I just want to check in before leaving for my next meeting.”

When we exit the elevator, Erika rattles off a list of tasks in a voice note and sends it to Randall. Her energy spikes have my head spinning and it’s hard to keep up on our way to the gym.

I gulp, finding a man in all-black standing in front of a closed door, arms folded .

He puts his hand up like a stop sign, eyes locked on Erika. “No way.”

Erika guffaws. “Excuse me? Don’t you know who’s paying you?”

“I’m paid to do a job,” he says, broadening himself in front of the doorway. “And my job is to keep you out of this room while he’s in there.”

I rub my lips together, suppressing the urge to smirk at hasty Erika is stonewalled.

Erika lunges for the door handle. “It’ll just take five minutes.”

In one swoop, the man grasps Erika’s wrist and forces her backward. “You know the rules.”

Erika groans, brushing back the loose hairs falling out of her no-nonsense bun. “He’s already made all the progress he needs. For goodness’s sake, he’ll be released soon. We don’t need these silly rules anymore.”

The door opens from within, and Savanna emerges. “What the heck is going on? We can hear the squabbling from inside.”

“I just need two minutes of Wyatt’s time,” Erika rushes, ready to mow down Savanna to get inside.

Savanna frowns. “He’s walking and doesn’t need the distraction.”

My back curves with my slouch and I back away, humiliated at the idea of being associated with Erika.

“Oh, Josie,” Savanna says, mood lifting. “We’ve been waiting for you. Come on in.”

I point at my chest, still hunched. “Me? Are you sure?”

Savanna beams. “Of course. Get over here.”

I clutch my elbows tightly as I slip past Erika’s steely gaze.

“Just Josie,” Savanna says curtly.

“Fine,” Erika says, straightening her blazer over her sheer blouse. “I trust Josie to help Wyatt with his recovery, anyhow.”

A slimy feeling slithers over my spine at her words, and I duck into the room before catching another look from Erika. Savanna closes the door behind us and it’s a relief even before I lay eyes on Wyatt.

“That woman,” Savanna mutters under her breath. She then nudges me and her tone is upbeat. “Check out our champ.”

He takes my breath away. Wearing a light gray t-shirt, black sweatpants, and white sneakers, Wyatt holds himself up between two parallel bars. They’re about twelve-feet long and on the floor, between the bars, is a rubber mat for him to walk along.

“Wow, Wyatt, you look so strong,” I say, following Savanna across the gym.

“I think I workout,” he jokes, holding onto the bars. “Look at my muscles. I still remember myself as being skinny.”

“Ready to get moving again, Wyatt?” Savanna asks.

He nods, stepping forward as Savanna walks on the outside of the bar.

I tilt my head, watching his biceps flex. “Does it feel weird, being stronger? Does it feel like your body?”

“I spend most of my days feeling exhausted,” he says in a strained tone as he steps along the rubber surface. “It’s nice that I have some strength.”

“Well, I’ve seen you workout,” I say, blushing. “You’ve posted them online.”

“I have?” Wyatt turns his body to face me, and he slips, losing his balance.

“ Wyatt ,” Savanna yelps, rushing to help him.

My hands clamp over my mouth as I gasp.

Wyatt grunts, pulling himself up. “Ugh. I’m good.”

I lower my trembling hands. “I’m so, so sorry,” I whimper. “I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry, I’m not supposed to say anything...”

“Joze,” he cuts me off as Savanna gives him the all clear. “You didn’t do anything. I was just surprised. I shouldn’t have turned so fast.”

My hands clasp over my chest. “But it was my fault.”

“You di-didn’t trigger me, I was just int, int...” He huffs, shaking it off, and continuing stepping forward.

“Interested?” Savanna asks, watching his steps.

“Intrigued,” he puffs out, wincing as he makes his way forward.

“I shouldn’t just blurt things out,” I mutter, folding my arms. “I should know better. I could hurt you.”

“Josie.” He sighs. “You... You can’t hurt me.”

“Wyatt, this is amazing,” Savanna says, eyes glued to his steps. “You’ve been distracted and you’ve corrected yourself. I’m so proud of you for pushing through and keeping your eyes on the prize.”

His smile twitches. “I’m out to impress.”

I look at Savanna for confirmation and her grin is undeniable. My presence hasn’t completely derailed his efforts. Maybe it’s okay to cut myself some slack.

Savanna’s head tilts as Wyatt approaches the end of the bars. “Posture, champ. I need you to keep that back straight.”

He winces, stretching himself to walk taller.

It makes me giggle, catching both their eyes.

I bat a hand, saying, “Sorry, it’s just he’s already putting me to shame. Erika gave me a hard time earlier for slouching. Now Wyatt, who’s in recovery, has better posture than me.”

Savanna fakes putting her fingers in her ears. “Don’t alert me to your posture or I’ll be forced to work on you.”

Wyatt lets out a soft laugh as he stops at the end of the bars. “Don’t you dare fix her. It’s cute when she hunches.”

Savanna chuckles. “Wow. There’s not many people attracted to bad posture.”

Wyatt wipes his brow, holding onto one of the rails as he meets my eyes. “I love when she hugs her middle and leans to the side. Gets me every time. ”

I chew my thumbnail, awkwardly trying to straighten myself as I fidget in my stance.

Wyatt grins. “ See . Cute.”

Heat engulfs my face as I swing my body away. “Stop. You’re embarrassing me.”

“I’m sorry, it just keeps making you look even cuter,” he teases.

“Okay, you need to stop,” Savanna says, “or I’m gonna feel like I’m third-wheeling with teenagers. It’s adorable, but slightly uncomfortable. Okay?”

Wyatt laughs, looking down at the gym floor. “Okay.”

“In all seriousness,” Savanna says, wheeling over a wheelchair. “You are crushing this recovery. Do you remember when just sitting was an effort?”

Wyatt sighs, looking off to the side. “Yeah, when ab-abs-absolutely ev-everything hurt.”

Savanna taps the wheelchair. “Take a seat. You need a breather before we move on.”

Wyatt takes a seat and looks up at Savanna, asking, “Will you stick with me when I leave?”

“Of course,” she replies. “I’ve already discussed out-patient care with your team, and I’ve organized all the correct gear to be installed in your home gym.”

Wyatt’s shoulders shake in a laugh. “A home gym. Me.”

Our eyes meet and I nod. “That’s where the videos of you working out were taken.”

Wyatt rubs his bicep. “I guess I should be thanking the version of me I can’t remember. Because he worked out, I’m getting through this recovery a lot faster.”

I catch the tattoo inside his arm and tingles dance along my skin.

“I’ll be with Dr. Fincher today when we conduct your memory tests,” Savanna says. “I don’t see any reason he won’t approve your release.”

Uncertainty shifts his expression. “But I could fail the tests.”

“It’s unlikely you’ll pass with one-hundred percent,” Savanna says. “Heck, I have trouble with some of those questions. All you need to do is express problem-solving skills. If you do that, it shows you can continue improving outside of the clinic.”

“I’m ready to leave,” he says.

“If you’re serious about leaving, then we should take it up a notch.” Savanna motions at a ramp, which arches in a hill formation with rails on each side. “Wanna give it a go?”

He stands out of the wheelchair. “I’ll walk there.”

I clasp my hands in front, afraid to breathe too loudly. I don’t want to distract him as he slowly makes his way over to the apparatus. Savanna keeps a hand poised behind his back, ready to help him if he stumbles.

But he doesn’t. He makes it the whole way on his own.

“Wow, Wyatt,” I gush. “You’re amazing.”

He blushes. “Thanks, cheerleader.”

“What am I, chopped liver?” Savanna jokes.

He winks at her. “You’re the coach.”

Savanna laughs. “Okay, I can deal with that. Now, ready to go? Or, do you need a moment?”

Wyatt takes hold of the grab rails. “No, I got this.”

I hold my breath as he takes the incline.

“Okay, Wyatt,” Savanna says, following on the other side of the rails. “Stop at the top. Going down on a slope requires you to use those abs of yours.”

His body tenses as he approaches the decline. There’s a flex in his jaw, his biceps pulsate, and his sweatpants pull around his thighs.

“Okay, use those muscles,” Savanna coaches. “You got this. Nice and slow.”

With a grunt, Wyatt makes his way down the rubber ramp .

I join Savanna in applause as he holds onto the grab rail, panting.

“Need a seat?” Savanna asks, ready to haul the wheelchair over.

Through deep breaths, he shakes his head, determined to stand.

“We’ll finish with your stretches,” Savanna says, “and then we’ll call it for the morning. Good job, Wyatt.”

“Thanks,” he says, settling his breath.

She turns to me with a wink. “And great job, cheerleader.”

I keep my hands firmly clasped in front as I bounce onto the balls of my feet. “It was all him.”