Page 39 of Shy Girls Can’t Date Celebrities (Shy Girls Sweet Romances #6)

Thea steps aside, and my jaw won’t get off the floor.

From her sleek dark hair, falling below her ribs. To her flawless makeup, plastered over her olive skin tone. Wearing a high-priced wardrobe, accessorized with premium jewelry, I know exactly who she is.

Portia.

The child model, turned teen popstar, turned actress.

A member of Circle 8. The girl on my wall with my face plastered over hers.

My stomach plummets.

She’s here. Not only in the building, but in the penthouse, and she’s aimed at Wyatt .

Following her across the floor is a girl, who’s about a foot shorter than statuesque Portia. She has wavy chestnut hair and wears oversized, thick-framed glasses. I’d take a stab and guess she’s Portia’s assistant.

Portia stops a few steps away from Wyatt and applauds with demure claps. The guitar hangs off Wyatt by the straps, otherwise, I’m sure it would’ve hit the floor by now. His eyes are round and chin drops low, absolutely awestruck by the beauty standing before him.

“Wyatt,” Erika says, motioning at Portia. “This is Portia. She’s your co-star and duet partner.”

“Oh,” Wyatt mutters. “Uh, umm, hi.”

“Hi.” Portia then sighs and throws her hands out wide. “I don’t care if you don’t remember me. I just want to hug you.”

As Portia flings herself around Wyatt, he almost loses his balance before embracing her back.

She giggles, awkwardly hugging him with the guitar between them. “Hi baby.”

Baby?

Ugh. This is not good.

Wyatt mumbles a nervous laugh. “This isn’t awkward.”

Portia pulls out of the hug, fixing her hair behind her ears. “Good to see you still have your sense of humor.” She sighs again, trying not to frown. “My gosh, I’ve missed you.”

“People have told me we were close,” Wyatt says, pulling the guitar strap off him. “But I haven’t he-heard from you.”

“I tried calling a few times,” Portia says as Randall takes the guitar from Wyatt. “They told me you haven’t had your phone on you.”

Lexy waggles the phone in her hand. “He’s back online now.”

“I guess it could’ve been triggering to be online when you don’t remember becoming famous,” Portia says, fidgeting with the gold bracelets around her wrists.

“Yeah, sometimes it’s hard to recognize myself in the mirror,” Wyatt admits.

Portia bites into her lip. “I’ve been in Europe since before your accident. They wouldn’t let me stop working.”

“You had commitments,” the man in the sharp suit pipes up.

“Everyone has had to work harder with Wyatt out of commission,” Erika adds on.

Wyatt folds his arms. “So, you’ve been working overseas this whole time? That’s why you never visited?”

Is he upset she never visited, now that he’s seen she’s a beauty queen?

Portia’s facade cracks and her eyes grow glossy. “If we were regular kids, who didn’t have to work all the time, I would’ve been by your side every chance I got.”

Wyatt rubs behind his neck, averting his eyes. “I, I’ve heard we work a lot. I don’t kn-know when I’m gonna get the energy to do all that.”

Portia gestures at the guitar, her expression brightening. “You’re back playing and singing. You sound as wonderful as ever. I’d say you’re on the right track.”

Wyatt smiles. “Yeah, I’m feeling like things are getting back to normal.”

“Normal?” Portia questions. “Like, you’re remembering your life?”

“I don’t exactly remember, but I get these feelings like I’ve done something before. Almost like déjà vu.”

Portia beams. “I saw videos from your little meet and greet yesterday. It could’ve been at one of our premieres. You looked totally back in form.”

“I don’t know about that,” Wyatt says, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smile. “But it was fun.”

“Since we have you two together,” Lexy says, still angling the phone at them, “why don’t you try a song together? ”

“That would be okay with me,” Portia says, her eyes wandering up and down Wyatt. “I mean, you do have your guitar right there.”

Randall hands the guitar back to Wyatt, and I notice his hand tremble as he takes it. “I’ve only just started singing and playing again,” Wyatt says softly. “So, sorry if I’m a bit rusty.”

“I just got off a long flight.” Portia smirks. “My voice will probably be garbage.”

Wyatt starts strumming, and asks her, “What are we singing?”

“The George Michael cover you were just playing is a good place to start.”

“Okay, let’s do it.”

Alongside Lexy, the girl with the oversized glasses, who walked in with Portia, films with her phone as well.

Wyatt strums the recognizable beat of the eighties pop song, and he and Portia launch into the chorus.

Portia taps the beat on her thighs and she swings her shoulders, harmonizing perfectly with Wyatt.

I shiver, watching every little interaction between the two, and listening to every note they hit. Every time their gazes meet, it’s like a knife to my heart.

I knew it.

I knew when he saw her, I’d become invisible.

This is why we never stayed in contact.

Why would he call the girl back home when he was in the same vicinity as this stunningly talented girl?

As they sway to the music they’re making, my body doesn’t know what to do. It’s always exhilarating hearing Wyatt sing, but sharing a song that means so much to him with her .

To say there’s havoc inside me would be an understatement.

Just when I’m about to keel over, Wyatt misses a line and fumbles into laughter.

The room erupts in applause as Wyatt and Portia end the song with the most cutesy laughter you’d swear you were watching their rom-com.

“I’m so proud of you for getting back into singing,” Portia says, curling her arm around his. “Jenna, bring my phone over.”

The girl with oversized glasses hands the phone to Portia.

“You wouldn’t remember Jenna,” Portia says to Wyatt. “She’s my PA.”

“Hi, Wyatt,” Jenna says with a kind smile and small wave.

“That was fantastic,” Erika says, clapping as loud as usual. “Lexy, did you get some good clips?”

“Oh, it’s a gold mine for sure,” Lexy replies.

“We should get these two back into the studio ASAP,” the man in the sharp suit says, stepping forward.

“Wyatt, I’m Richmond Salinger, Circle 8 Management.

I’ve been managing Portia for the past nine months.

Even though it’s been some time since you and I have worked together, I think it’s time you get back to Ferndale. ”

Wyatt reluctantly shakes Richmond’s hand. “Ah, okay?”

“Ferndale is where our recording studio is located,” Randall explains. “And your loft.”

Wyatt’s eyes brighten. “My loft?”

“It’s moody and artistic,” Portia says, nudging Jenna. “It’s totally his vibe, right Jenna?”

“Oh, yeah,” Jenna says, timidly making eye contact with Wyatt.

Wyatt clears his throat. “You’ve both been there?”

“It’s near the studio,” Portia says, playing with her hair as she eyes her phone. “Plus, my place is nearby.”

“You could say Circle 8 has made Ferndale very neighborly,” Richmond says with an offbeat chuckle.

“You two have made great work back there,” Jenna says. “Devon and I would always say...”

Jenna is cut off by the gasps whooshing out of those around her.

“ Jenna ,” Portia grunts through gritted teeth .

I can’t help staring at Jenna as her eyes water. She blinks them clear, taking a breath and standing taller. “I’m so sorry,” she mutters.

Wyatt’s brow lifts and his bottom lip drops, but he falters on a response.

Portia sighs and strokes Wyatt’s arms. “We heard about what Devon did. I’m sorry. It’s so unbelievable.”

“ Really unbelievable,” Jenna blurts. Portia glares at her, and Jenna swiftly squeaks. “ Sorry .”

“Devon’s the bad guy,” Portia scolds her PA. “You need to stop pining for him.”

Pining?

With intensity, I watch the million emotions crossing Jenna’s face.

I’m in the same camp. I can’t fathom Devon doing anything bad to Wyatt.

Here’s a girl, who actually knew Devon.

I need to know what Jenna knows.

My attention is pulled from Jenna when I hear a groan. Sucking in a breath, I turn back to Wyatt.

Clutching his forehead, Wyatt doubles over with a grunt.

“ Wyatt ?” Portia shrieks, clasping her hands by her face.

Randall helps get the guitar off him, and Wyatt uses the back of the sectional couch to keep himself upright.

Gritting my teeth until my jaw stings, all I want to do is get near him. Sirens blare in my head as everyone else crowds around him, ripping oxygen from the room. All I can do is stare as I hold myself so tightly my ribs ache.

“Hubert!” Erika shouts. “Get Wyatt’s pain medication.”

Wyatt’s hand lowers, displaying his creased forehead and squinting eyes. “It’s all right,” Wyatt strains, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s just... just...”

“Wyatt, hon,” Lexy says, getting in his face, “what is it? ”

Wyatt stands taller with another grunt. “It feels... It’s like... Like I can remember.”

Portia squeals, bundling her hands under her chin. “Your memory? It’s coming back?”

I lose my breath, barely able to muster the strength to edge myself closer.

“No, ugh, yeah, umm.” Wyatt rubs the side of his head, closing his eyes. “It’s right there. Like, the memories are behind this fog, but I can’t clear it.”

Portia, Lexy, Erika, Randall, and Richmond crowd around Wyatt. They talk over each other, fighting to take control over how to fix Wyatt’s headache.

My heart pounds heavy like a mallet, pumping my hot blood so fast, it’s all I can hear. With my vision vibrating, the anger sweeps me up, and I stamp my foot. “Can you all just back off?”

Everyone in the room spins in my direction. The shock wears off and I realize how deep my fingernails are embedded in my palms.

Portia puffs out a laugh. “Excuse me, who are you? I never even noticed you in the room before.”

“This is Josie,” Erika introduces. “Wyatt’s friend from school.”

His girlfriend.

I want to say it.

Dang it, I want to scream it.

But my lips may as well be glued shut.

With Portia staring me down, I’m shrinking into oblivion.

“Oh, you’re the friend the team told me about,” Portia says, wearing a movie star smile.