Page 46 of Shy Girls Can’t Date Celebrities (Shy Girls Sweet Romances #6)

He caresses the sides of my face, hungrily kissing me back. As I reposition myself against him, I feel him shift. A soft moan pours out of him, and then he grazes my bottom lip with his teeth as he pulls away .

His hands stay locked on the sides of my face as he sighs. “All I want right now is to be kissing you. But I really should take a look at this song.”

I slump against him and huff. “Okay.”

He mumbles a laugh as he plucks the folded paper from his pocket. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

“It’s okay,” I murmur, fanning my face. “We have all night.”

Wyatt flattens the paper out and stares at it blankly.

I nudge him. “Where are your glasses?”

He shrugs. “I dunno. I haven’t used them since I left the clinic.”

My chin drops. “ Wyatt . You just signed a legal document. Why the heck wouldn’t you have your glasses with you?”

He shrugs again, purposefully turning his face away from me. “I dunno. Raymond explained it all to me. Felt like I didn’t need them.”

I click my tongue. “No, you didn’t want to use them. What’s with the vanity?”

Wyatt groans. “Ugh. They’re just another thing wrong with me. It’s bad enough everyone keeps tossing that walking cane at me. I don’t need them shoving reading glasses on my face too.”

I rub his arm, hoping to ease his tension. “Hey, they’re not a mark of failure. They gave them to you to help with your headaches and strengthen your focus. It’s okay if I go look for them?”

Wyatt shrugs. “They’re in the bedroom somewhere. Hubert unpacked my stuff.”

I stand from the couch and crane my neck toward the butler’s quarters. “Hubert?”

Determined footsteps march our way. “Yes, miss?”

I smile at him with gratitude. “Would you know where Wyatt’s reading glasses are?”

Hubert nods and moves toward the bedrooms. “I’ll retrieve them at once. ”

“Joze, I really don’t need them.”

“Would you stop? The clinic wouldn’t have given them to you if you didn’t need them.”

He frowns. “I used them while I was in there.”

“So, why stop? I don’t get why you’re being so fussy.”

He huffs. “I’m not being fussy.”

Hubert returns with the glasses, but Wyatt doesn’t make an effort to take them.

As the room oozes with awkward tension, I take the glasses from Hubert and thank him. He leaves, telling us to call him if we need anything further.

I hand the glasses to Wyatt. “Stop being a baby and put them on.”

Wyatt groans. “You know I hate them. They pinch behind my ears.”

I smirk. “I thought it was your nose they pinched?”

Wyatt rolls his eyes, sliding them on. “Either way, they suck.”

I kiss his cheek. “No, they’re adorable.”

He gives me a disagreeable look.

I grin at his framed eyes and clap. “ Yay . Now you’re ready to learn your lyrics.”

He fiddles with the earpiece of the glasses and glances at the paper. “Why do you love me?”

Like a vacuum, his words suck the air from my lungs. I bang on my chest and cough, searching for oxygen. Blinking hard and refilling my lungs, I then croak, “What?”

He sighs, lifting the paper. “We only met because I was the dummy who had to repeat sixth grade. How did I not turn you off?”

I curl my legs onto the seat of the couch and sit on my knees. “Because you’re wonderful.”

“You were stuck tutoring me.”

“So? You’re more than your reading age or how quickly you solve a math problem. You’re creative and soulful. You’re my other half. ”

“But you’re so much better than me. You’re intelligent, caring, and...”

I press my finger against his lips. “ Hush . Don’t you dare say a bad word about yourself.”

His shoulders droop and his eyes are glossy. “These glasses are basically a big sign on my face saying, I’m behind.”

I drop my hands to his shoulders. “No, they’re not. Don’t you realize how many crazy smart people wear glasses?”

“But I already have a history of trailing behind everyone else.”

Tears prick my eyes. “Stop it.”

He lifts the paper again. “You heard my voice on Portia’s phone. My heart wasn’t in it. All I’ve ever wanted was to be a musician and, somehow, it happened. And I’m blowing it. No one wants to hear an original song from me. I’m not good enough.”

I cup my hands against his jawline. “Don’t say that.

Wyatt, you’ve lost your memory because you suffered emotional shock.

Recording those soundbites was one of the last things you did on the film set.

Maybe your heart wasn’t in the song because other things were going on in your life.

” I lower my hands, sigh, and take the piece of paper from him.

“You have a clean slate now. We’re back together.

Maybe we can put some soul back into these words. ”

Wyatt sucks in a breath and combs his fingers through his hair. “I don’t want to mess it up.”

I give him a gentle smile. “Isn’t that why you wanted to come up here and practice? I mean, you stopped our makeout session for this.”

He blushes and the glasses slightly droop on his nose. “Okay, the worrying is over.”

I graze my thumb against his chin. “I’m so glad you can be honest about your feelings with me. But don’t ever doubt my love for you. Why you’re still into me is another matter.”

“What? ”

A nervous laugh simmers out of me. “Portia would’ve locked lips with you if you let her.”

“I’m not gonna let her,” he replies firmly. “Your lips are the only ones I want.”

My heart swells. “Really?”

“The girl got off a long flight,” he says softly. “I wasn’t gonna reject her immediately. Fi-firstly, she took me off guard. Secondly, I didn’t want to be mean.”

“See. Told ya, you’re the sweetest.”

“I’ve told you all along, you don’t need to be jealous of some other girl.” He grasps my hand and kisses it. “And, I don’t doubt you love me. I just think you can do better.”

A belly laugh rolls out of me. “You’re a literal superstar.” I wipe the tears of laughter from my eyes. “And I loved you before the fame. How could you think I was punching under?”

Wyatt’s eyebrows raise. “You loved me before?”

I bite my lip. “I never said anything. It seemed too soon, and I figured we’d have more time.” I pull my arms around his waist. “I felt so lucky when I was asked to tutor you when you repeated sixth grade. I was obsessed with you, right from the start.”

Wyatt smirks. “Obsessed?”

“Big time. Those big eyes, luscious lips, and sweet attitude. You are everything to me, Wyatt.”

Wyatt grins and kisses my forehead. “Then I’ll be glad I got held back. Otherwise, I might not have you now.”

“Exactly. Second chances happen for a reason.”

“You still got the lyrics? I think I’m ready to practice now.”

I pull my arms from around him and lift the paper. Wyatt gets up and rounds the couch. I’m about to ask where he’s going when, from behind the couch, I see him pick up the guitar that sits against the dining table from earlier today .

He lifts the guitar strap over his head and plucks the pick from between the strings. “Can you hit play on the song Portia sent?”

“You sure you want to hear it again?”

“I just want to hear the music.”

I hit play and Wyatt bops his head as he listens to the tune. He begins to strum, and he picks up the rhythm as their voices come through the phone.

His eyes are closed as he still wears the glasses, strumming the guitar. He starts murmuring the lyrics, having heard them in the recordings. He focuses on playing the guitar, nailing the chords better than the words he needs to memorize.

The more he practices the lyrics, with me standing by him holding the sheet of paper, he tries putting emphasis on different words. His brow furrows and he shakes his head. I’m worried another headache is building, but he sighs, showing it’s just utter frustration.

He moves away from the dining table, pacing as he strums.

“Maybe you should take a rest?” I suggest.

He has his back to me as he continues to pace. “Just a minute,” he mumbles.

More lyrics sing out of him, but I don’t recognize them from the song. I look down at the paper, assuming I hadn’t read the stanza, but the lines blur as realization sets in.

I gasp and drop the piece of paper. “What are you doing?”

He continues to sing and my heat hammers into overdrive.

Holy cow.

Wyatt turns to face me, smiling as he sings the words with soulful power.

“The space is big enough for me.

One-hundred people fit here.

But I’m only happy when it’s us.

Crowds break my spirit .

Together, we bring the light.”

He’s singing the words from my poem.

And, his voice makes them better.

“How...” I stammer. “How do you remember those words?”

He stops strumming so he can tap the space on his chest over his heart. “They’re your words, Joze. They’ll always be in here.”

“I just... I never... I never expected anyone to sing one of my poems.”

Wyatt’s eyes light up behind his frames. “This is what I was talking about, Josie. Your words have heart. There’s no way anyone could diss a song written by you.”

I gesture at the lyrics on the floor. “But your team wants you to learn this song.”

“But we can fix it. You can fix it.” Wyatt hugs his arms around his guitar. “Those guys have to know the song isn’t working. Imagine how grateful they’ll be when you Josi-fy the song.”

I giggle. “ Josi-fy ?”

“Yes, make it amazing. Like everything you write.”

“I don’t think I’m allowed to just change a song.”

Wyatt motions at his phone on the couch. “Call Portia and get her take on it.”

My stomach somersaults. I’d rather walk on nails than chit-chat with the popstar.

I scoop the lyrics off the floor. “Why don’t we try rewriting it first? Then we’ll know whether we should bother Portia with the question.”

Glee fills Wyatt’s expression. “You’ll do it?”

I inhale a large breath, hoping to boost my bravery. “I’ll do it.”