Page 30 of Shy Girls Can’t Date Celebrities (Shy Girls Sweet Romances #6)

My forehead wrinkles as I shut my eyes tighter before I squint them open. What the heck is happening? What is that?

As I blink and take in his scent, realization sets in. Wyatt’s kissing my forehead. Oh my gosh, what a magical way to wake up.

“Morning, princess,” he says in a croaky tone.

“Mmm.” I yawn and stretch myself awake. “Morning, my prince.”

He mumbles a laugh, returning his lips to my forehead.

“Nuh-uh,” I whisper and then tap my index finger against my lips.

Taking the instructions well, Wyatt’s lips meet mine with the best good morning kiss of my life. Okay, granted, I’ve never woken in the same bed as a boy I’m crazy about before. But, it’ll still be hard to top.

I kiss him back and then my body locks. Oh gosh, what if I have morning breath? I’ve been waiting for the other shoe to drop and for him to be completely turned off. Crap . Is this what will do it?

Wyatt pulls away, leaning on his elbow to look down at me. His expression is blank. Dang it. It’s happening.

“What are you doing?” he says flatly.

My heart races. “Huh?”

“You froze. What’s wrong?”

“Oh, umm, it’s...” I cover my mouth, too embarrassed to admit it.

“Josie?”

I lower my hand and squeak. “I wanna brush my teeth.”

Wyatt mumbles a laugh, sitting back against the pillows. “I did that before you woke up.”

I sit up. “You did? So, I’m not the only self-conscious one?”

“You said you were building me up for years. I’m not letting some morning breath finally turn you off me.”

I giggle and peck his cheek. “Oh my gosh. We’ve both gotta stop fixating on the other one leaving us.”

He nods. “Agreed. You’re just so pretty.”

I sit up and click my tongue. “Uh, stop.”

“You are!” He sits up against the pillows. “I don’t want to do something stupid and push you away again.”

“You never pushed me away.”

“You’re right. My parents told me to stop talking to you.” He frowns hard. “The worst thing is, I can’t believe I listened to them.”

“I doubt they said it pointblank,” I reply. “You were probably on tour or something, and they told you not to get distracted. Your mom was acting pretty manic. Maybe she took your phone while you were working or something.”

“Me working is all they care about.” He sighs, staring at nothing in particular. “It now makes sense why they never talked about home with me. They always tried to remind me of my new home and my new routine. They were desperate for me to remember.”

“And I now understand why they weren’t the ones to call me about visiting you.”

Wyatt scoffs. “They weren’t interested in you coming here. It wasn’t until Dr. Fincher said it could lead to my release from the clinic, that they acted like they were onboard.”

“They thought I’d only be here for a day.”

“Well they can suck it.” Wyatt shifts closer and lassos me in his arms. “If having you in my life means having them out of it, so be it.”

“No, don’t say that. Your parents are more important than me.”

“I agree, parents should be important. But mine aren’t acting like parents.”

“I really hope you can eventually make peace with them.”

“Josie.” He deadpans me. “They forced me to cut you out of my life. They don’t deserve my time.”

“You were focusing on your career. You should be proud of the success you’ve achieved.”

He huffs, lowering his chin onto my shoulder. “Proud I have parents shoving me into work? Or proud I have a team organizing my life? It’s so sad I should laugh. I don’t have any friends. I have a team.”

“You have the other Circle 8 kids. I’m sure you’re friends with them.”

“They’re other kids who work all the time. I haven’t seen any of them in the flesh.”

“Wyatt, I don’t want you to be sad. I wish you could see your life from my perspective. It’s fabulous.”

Wyatt lifts his chin and meets my gaze. “And I wish you c-could see how head over heels I am for you. I wish you’d understand that my re-re-relationship with you is the only thing I care about.”

“But...”

I’m cut off when Wyatt’s lips rush over mine.

I lower my eyelids, delighting in every sensation tingling in our kiss.

Wyatt tilts his head like a pro. Perhaps how to kiss is the one thing he remembers from his film star life.

The pleasure skyrockets past anything I remember from our middle school dalliance.

It’s almost unfathomable, because I have romanticized the heck out of those past kisses.

Our hands stay clasped, and the connection gives me an extra thrill of electricity.

He breaks away from me, mumbling a laugh as he pants. “Sorry. Needed to come up for air.”

I rub my lips together and bashfully raise a hand over my mouth.

His chest rises and falls and then he leans in again, head perfectly angled.

I press a hand on his shoulder, asking, “Are you good?”

“I can’t stop kissing you this soon,” he says breathily. “We have so much time to make up for.”

“We have time,” I whisper.

He grins. “Not enough.”

I giggle, sliding my hand behind his neck and he lays another kiss on me.

His arms snake around my back and he tugs me closer.

As his hands press into my lower back, his arms flex at my sides and pull me up against him.

I hum a laugh against his lips, and my chest hits his as I’m cradled in his arms.

When our lips break apart, his nose brushes against mine.

“I’m not letting you go, Josie Bartlett,” he whispers. “Not now. Not ever.”

I giggle. “Not even to let a girl freshen up?”

He butterfly kisses my nose. “Okay, I’ll unhand you for that.”

After freshening up in the bathroom, I grab a robe from Wyatt’s walk-in closet, and meet him in the dining room for breakfast.

As he sits in a dining chair, I creep up behind him. I wrap my arms around his shoulders, latching my hands against his chest. As he clutches my bundled hands, I kiss his cheek.

“I was missing you already,” I admit, slinking into the chair beside him.

He kisses my hand. “Same.”

“Do we call room service for food?”

“Hubert already came by. I didn’t know what you wanted, so he said he’d come back to ask you.”

“What are you getting?”

“Coconut yogurt and granola,” he replies. “It’s the only thing I want in the mornings.”

“How health-conscious of you,” I joke.

He smiles. “I guess so.”

“Miss Bartlett,” Hubert says, making his way into the dining room. “I trust you slept well this morning. May I get your breakfast order?”

I twist a finger around a curl, sensing the growl of my stomach. I know exactly what it’s craving, but I can’t exactly ask for it when Wyatt’s getting muesli.

“Joze?” Wyatt asks, tilting his head. “You’re on mute.”

I laugh, cupping a hand over my eyes. “I have a craving, but I’m embarrassed about it.”

“You are being too cute. Just say it.”

I lower my hand and avert my eyes. “I really want waffles.”

Wyatt turns to Hubert. “Can you make waffles happen?”

“Certainly, sir. Miss Bartlett, the kitchen staff can prepare many varieties. Do you have a preference in mind?”

I swallow hard, panning my gaze back to Hubert. I feel so ridiculous, asking a butler for a waffle stack. “Umm, just to drown them in loads of maple syrup.”

Hubert smiles warmly. “It’ll be here before you know it.”

When Hubert leaves, Wyatt gives me a confused look. “Why were you embarrassed about that? ”

“Ugh. Because you’re getting muesli, and I’m being a glut.”

Wyatt throws his head back, laughing.

I nudge him. “ Hey .”

“Sorry,” he mumbles, settling his laugh. “A glut is the last thing I’d call you. Heck, I’m the one who ordered pizza last night.”

“And I ate it, and now I want more carb-loaded food.”

“Relax, Joze. We’re in a penthouse together. Let’s fr-freaking enjoy it.”

My grin matches his. “Okay. Can do.”

Okay, my best friend makes some killer waffles, but these fancy hotel waffles are giving her a run for her money. They even enticed Wyatt to take a bite, until he realized they were made with buttermilk. I swear, I’m trying to go vegan. But, ugh, it’s hard.

After breakfast, Wyatt reminded Hubert to make sure security doesn’t let his management team, or his parents, into the penthouse today. Apparently, the front desk has already changed the coding on their passkeys to invalid. Gotta love technology, right?

On my way to my bedroom to change into a new outfit, Wyatt tells me to meet him on the terrace when I’m done. There’s a stunning infinity pool and lush garden out there. Plus, I can’t wait to take in that view.

Unfortunately, I’m way too in my head when picking my outfit.

Wyatt told me he loved me. More than once.

This is monumentally huge. I wanna look my absolute best, but I’ve already gone through all my outfits because I was only meant to be here for three days.

Do I go with the green dress he first saw me in? Or the pink outfit I like the most?

My mind filters back to when he first saw me. He told me I was pretty after all that time apart.

No brainer. I select the green dress.

Before I leave, I check my phone, which I left on the bed before I went into Wyatt’s room last night. There’s a text from my dad. “School’s emailing you your homework assignments. Make sure you log into the student portal and get to work on them.”

Thank goodness he can’t see my massive eye roll. “Okay, no problem.”

Happily ignoring my schooling responsibilities, I make my way to the terrace with a spring in my step. For as long as I can stretch this out, I’m focusing on savoring every second with Wyatt.

I move through the balcony doors, and the rooftop terrace is empty.

That is, except for the deck chairs surrounding the crystal blue pool, and wealth of plants surrounding the comfy cabana lounges.

As I make my way toward the balcony edge, the salty sea breeze hits me, and a wave of calm settles through my nervous system.

I plant my hands on the sides of my face, and slowly inhale and exhale. “Oh my gosh.”

“I could say the same thing,” Wyatt’s voice sounds behind me.

I whip around and find him making his way onto the terrace with help of his walking cane.