Page 48 of Shy Girls Can’t Date Celebrities (Shy Girls Sweet Romances #6)

“Then why...”

She cuts him off. “That’s what makes the whole thing so tragic.”

Wyatt folds his arms, looking down at the floor as he nods his understanding.

The elevator doors ping open at the parking garage, and security walks us toward the black SUVs, which are waiting in a line.

Wyatt and Portia leave first, and I take my opportunity to clutch Jenna’s wrist and tug her backwards.

She stumbles on her footing, turning to face me. “Josie? What’s wrong?”

“You know what’s wrong?” I whisper. “Wyatt wants to know about Devon. I saw Portia falter. Deep down, she knows Devon couldn’t hurt Wyatt.”

“Don’t put words in Portia’s mouth.”

“You need to help us find him. He’s the only one who has the answers.”

“I can’t.”

“I just need a phone number. You don’t have to contact him.”

“I already told you, his phone is disconnected. Blocked, gone, finito .”

“There has to be some way to trace him. Where would we find him in Ferndale?”

“Look, I can’t go there.”

“Where?” My heart pulsates with hope. “Tell me where we can find him.”

Jenna slips her wrist out of my grip. “I can’t do this, Josie. You need to drop it.”

As she dashes away, a pit grows wider in my stomach.

Something is definitely up.

Yesterday, she divulged so much information about Wyatt and Devon’s working friendship.

What’s changed?

Did someone get to her?

Did Portia warn her not to talk to me about Devon?

Or was it someone else? Someone from management?

“Josie?” Wyatt calls from the open car door.

I hurry across the concrete landing to meet him. “Coming!”

The trip to the airport is mostly silent. Our three vehicle convoy stays closely together, and once we get through the heavy Cherry Beach traffic, the SUVs pull up on the tarmac near the Circle 8 Learjet.

As we approach the boarding stairs, the managers talk loudly on their phones, seemingly needing to get all their calls in before the one-hour flight to Ferndale.

“Wow,” Wyatt breathes as he grabs the staircase railing. “It’s a private plane, Joze.”

Tingles electrify in my veins, watching the wonder in his eyes. “ See . Told ya you were big-time now.”

Wyatt laughs, and I follow him onto the plane.

“Mr. Hayes, it’s an honor to have you aboard once again,” the flight attendant says, placing a hand on her chest. “My name is Claire and I’m here for anything you need. And, hello again, Miss Bartlett.”

I wave. “Hi Claire.”

Claire shows us into the cabin, giving Wyatt extra attention. We find our seats, and she still hasn’t fussed over Portia, who’s sitting two rows away from us with Jenna.

Claire hovers a hand over her mouth as she chuckles. She lowers her hand and leans in to whisper, “I should never admit this, but you’re my favorite of the Circle 8 members to have aboard.”

Wyatt snorts at her admission.

“It’s true,” Claire insists. “It’s rare to find someone who hasn’t let fame go to his head, and still uses his please and thank yous.”

“Oh, well, you’re welcome.”

“Please, let me know if there’s anything I can do to make your flight more enjoyable,” Claire says sincerely. “I can’t fathom how difficult things must be. Dealing with a life that doesn’t feel like your own. Can I get you anything?”

Wyatt tugs me close as he leans over to ask Claire, “How soon are you taking this plane back to Victoria Falls?”

“We’ll need to refuel and clean the cabin. We’ll have a few hours before our next flight.”

Wyatt sits back with an exhale. “ Phew . You’re not taking her away too soon.”

Claire’s eyes land on me with warmth. “Are you nervous about your next flight?”

I snuggly wrap my arm around Wyatt’s. “Only about leaving him.”

Claire smiles and nods. “Anything else, you two?”

I grin. “Jellybeans. We need jellybeans.”

Wyatt laughs. “Do they have them?”

“We always have them, waiting for you,” Claire replies. “I’ll return with them soon. ”

Wyatt kisses my cheek. “What made you ask for jellybeans?”

“Claire gave them to me on my flight over,” I reply. “Maybe if we get a sugar rush, we won’t think about not being together.”

“Hope it works. I want to stretch out our remaining time together.”

Captain Frank Ford greets everyone in the cabin, making an effort to shake Wyatt’s hand. Wyatt is awestruck from all the attention, still reeling from the fact the private plane is a real thing. Captain Ford lets us know he’s about to take off, and everyone gets settled in their seats.

Once we’re in the sky, there’s a bowl of jelly beans in front of us. People begin unbuckling, and there’s a relaxed air inside the plane.

Wyatt sinks into his seat, his arm resting across my shoulders. I cuddle into him, needing so badly to forget this is our last day together.

Wyatt fidgets against me, and bats his hand in the direction of the aisle. “Nuh-uh. Keep going.”

I look down the aisle and find Randall approaching. He lifts a finger, saying, “But I...”

Wyatt’s face is stony as he shakes his head.

Randall continues along the walkway, and in his place, Portia comes into view.

She laughs to herself and takes a seat across from us. “You know, everyone says you think you’re just a normy, Wyatt, but that was some celebrity attitude I just saw.”

Wyatt’s arm hugs around my shoulders and his fingers stroke the top of my arm. “I don’t need him ruining the time I have left with Josie.”

“I get it,” she says, making herself comfortable in her new seat. “Sometimes flights are the only time I get to breathe. Once we hit the ground, they’ll work us to the bone to get this track recorded.”

With his free hand, Wyatt taps on the table. “I was practicing a lot last night. Hope I’m up to scratch. Your vocals are insane on the recordings you sent us.”

Portia bounces in her seat. “Thanks, baby. But, after all this time, I only hear the areas I need to tighten up. Do you remember any of your vocal exercises?”

He nods. “Sure. All the stuff my music teacher from back home taught me.”

Portia twirls a shiny lock of hair around her finger. “I still want to meet that teacher one day. You taught me some of his exercises, and nothing has helped open up my range like those have.”

I sit up and ask, “Are you talking about Mr. Taveski?”

Portia giggles. “I just know him as Mr. T.”

Wyatt relaxes beside me. “He thought that nickname was such a crack up.”

Portia dreamily stares at Wyatt and I feel myself becoming invisible. “We should fly him out on one of our recording days. We always talked about it.”

Wyatt’s grip around me loosens. “We did?”

“Yeah, we’ve talked about a bunch of stuff,” she says, swatting a hand. “And with all the time you’ve been out of action, doesn’t it show how precious our time is? Why not be a little spontaneous? We’ve put off enough things over the years. We never know how much time we really have.”

Wyatt smiles, meeting Portia’s almond-shaped eyes. “Sounds like a good idea for a song.”

My stomach flips, watching Portia’s eyes search deep into Wyatt’s while his arm is around me. I fidget beside him, unable to help feeling bad for her. I was worried they were a couple when she wasn’t in the picture.

Now she’s here, calling him baby with an adoring stare. What if she thought they were a couple? What does she think of me, cuddled up beside him and stealing his attention from her? She must hate me.

It’s not her fault, they were so close before his accident. She didn’t do anything wrong. I just don’t want Wyatt taken away from me. But, they obviously share a history too. Ugh, I feel terrible.

“Are you excited to meet up with everyone else?” Portia asks.

Wyatt’s hand jerks against my arm. “Everyone else?”

“You know, our peers,” Portia elaborates. “Some of the gang are in Ferndale. Maggie’s between shows, and Theo’s in town for contract negotiations. Oh, even Simon’s back in town.”

Wyatt takes in the news, staring blankly as none of the names register.

“Simon just wrapped filming his latest project.” Portia giggles, shaking her head. “We were texting last night, and he wanted me to tell you that you need to finish your movie.”

At that, Wyatt squirms.

Portia smirks. “Apparently they’ve approached him to take over the role if your speech doesn’t improve.”

Wyatt sinks further down in his seat.

Portia reaches a hand across to him. “Don’t be nervous. I’ll run lines with you.”

Wyatt frowns. “Mm-hmm.”

Her grip on him tightens. “It’ll be okay. I’ve helped you tons of times in the past. You’ll get back up to speed.”

His jaw rocks and uncertainty wavers in his stare. “I just... I don’t see myself on a movie set.”

Portia gulps, pulling her hand back toward her. “You will,” she murmurs.

The discomfort radiates off Wyatt. I badly want to tell him everything will be okay. But with Portia watching us, I’m paralyzed.

She wants to be the one holding him. When she tells him it’ll be okay, she wants him to believe her.

Portia takes a handful of jelly beans, and then stands up. “Well, I’ll leave you two alone. We all need to conserve our energy before we land.”

“Thanks. Bye, Portia,” Wyatt says as she moves back to her seat beside Jenna.

“That really unnerved you, huh?”

Wyatt fingers tap along the table’s edge. “The movie talk?”

“Yeah. You know, there’s no rush.”

“I think there is. Movies cost a lot, and I’m probably holding everything up.”

“But you got hurt on set. It’s they’re duty not to rush you back there.”

Wyatt hugs me closer. I can’t help but pout.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he whispers.

I motion toward Portia’s seat. “Does she seem sad to you?”

“Portia?”

“Yeah. It’s like she came over here to say something, but didn’t actually say it.”

“Like what?”

“I dunno...” I trail off, not wanting to say what’s on my head.

That Portia wishes she was in Wyatt’s arms. That she wants to pick up where they left off.

I shake it off and hug my arms around my boyfriend. “Nothing. I just want to forget everyone else is here with us.”

He rests his head against mine. “ That I’m onboard with.”

It doesn’t take long until the plane is ready to land in Ferndale. Wyatt massages his temples as the plane descends. After we hit the tarmac, he promises me he’s feeling okay.

We watch everyone else unbuckle before we budge an inch. It’s like we both realize how much our time is running out once we leave this plane.

“Thea, can you hand me my sunglasses?” Lexy calls out to her assistant. “I can’t deal with all those flashes. I don’t want to be seeing spots for the next hour.”

Flashes ?

As Wyatt and I join the others in the aisle, Thea hands Lexy a pair of aviator sunglasses. Ahead, Claire opens the passenger door for us to exit the plane. Through the hum of the usual airplane sounds, a louder rumble mixes into the surrounding noise.

The management staff vacates the plane with security watching over them.

As I wander behind Thea, I peek through a window, and a gasp shoots out of me.

The tarmac is littered with people. A huddled mass of cameras, microphones, hand-painted signs, and excited cheers.

The crowd are held behind loose ropes, and I don’t believe for a second they will hold back the mix of press and adoring fans.

“Joze?” Wyatts voice brings me back into my body, and his hand grasps my shoulder. “You okay?”

I purse my lips and hold my breath, unable to communicate my fear of leaving the plane.

“Wyatt,” Portia says, grabbing onto his forearm. “We’re wanted outside. It’s time for everyone to see us back together.”

He chokes. “Ex-excuse me?”

She giggles. “This is what we do. We have our photo taken together, and there’s clips filmed. It’s how we stay relevant.”

Wyatt checks the exit. “There’s a crowd here for us?”

Portia nods. “Why don’t we head out? They’ll be preoccupied with us, and then Josie can sneak out after. I mean, look at her, she’s obviously freaked.”

Wyatt looks at me with heightened concern. “No, I can’t leave Josie behind. Joze, are you okay?”

I shiver and force myself to nod. “Go with Portia,” I stammer, chilled with fear. “I’ll be okay.”

Wyatt’s worry increases. “But I...”

Portia gestures at a security guard. “He’ll escort Josie out. She’ll be safe.”

The roars and screams from the crowd intensify, and when I shudder something comes over me and I shove Wyatt away.

He stumbles, shocked. “Joze?”

“ Go ,” it comes out of me hoarse as my vision blurs and my insides quiver.

Portia helps Wyatt stand upright and I internally yell at myself to apologize, but I’m frozen.

Wyatt leaves the plane with Portia and the cheers raise an octave.

Jenna follows after them. Inside the plane gets so quiet, I realize I’m left all alone. That is, until the security guard steps forward.

“I’ll walk you to your car, miss.”

I clutch my elbows, fixated on the noises outside.

“Miss?” the guard works to gain my attention.

My stomach wobbles like a plate of jelly, and I swallow the urge to hurl the contents.

The only reason I want to go outside is Wyatt. But in order to do that, I have to walk out in front of all those people. The cameras. The judgmental eyes.

The general public already hates me for walking on Royale Boulevard with him.

What will they think when I’m walking out of the Circle 8 Learjet? Will all the online commentators call me a man-stealer? That I’m trying to take Wyatt away from Portia? That I’m just some girl who’s constantly following them?

Like some kind of stalker?