Page 5 of Shy Girls Can’t Date Celebrities (Shy Girls Sweet Romances #6)

As Claire radios the captain that we’re ready for take off, I fish between the throw cushions for my seatbelt. Once I’m buckled, the captain comes through the overhead speakers and gives us an arrival time of one p.m. at Cherry Beach.

Just like Dad taught me, I cross my fingers as the plane ascends, only relaxing when we level out.

“Okay, folks, enjoy your flight,” Captain Ford says through the speakers. “I’ll be back in touch soon when we’re ready to descend.”

Claire reappears from the rear of the plane with a small bowl of jelly beans in an array of bright colors.

“Wow, thank you,” I say when she sits the bowl on the coffee table in front of my couch, alongside a tall glass of OJ.

“I’m happy to arrange anything for you, Miss Bartlett,” Claire says.

“Please, call me Josie.”

She beams. “Certainly, Josie.”

Claire flicks a button by the partition wall, and from the base of the small mahogany table, a flatscreen TV rises up.

“Whoa,” I breathe.

Claire grins. “Any requests?”

I shy away, shaking my head. “Ah, no.”

Randall unbuckles, crossing his leg as he scrolls on his phone. “Pick anything you like, Josie. It’s more than likely on the hard-drive.”

I bite into my lip, remembering my out-of-this-world distraction from my movie selection last night. “‘No Way, Goodbye.’”

“Excellent choice,” Claire says, flicking through the movie options.

Randall grumbles, shifting in his seat. “I’ve not seen that movie a billion times.”

“You don’t like it?” I question, sinking in my seat.

Randall smirks. “My life revolves around Wyatt Hayes and the rest of the Circle 8 kids. I’ve seen every piece of media, and heard every song, way too many times.”

I tilt my head at the flatscreen. “Do you have Wyatt’s songs on there too?”

“Yes, of course,” Claire replies. “Both the tracks and the music video versions.”

“We can cue them up after the movie,” I say, bouncing in my seat.

“Yay,” Randall grunts.

I eye him with glee. “And, of course, we’ll end our flight with ‘Without You.’”

Randall lifts his palms in defeat. “Why not? It’s a Wyatt-palooza, of course.”

Claire chuckles, selecting ‘No Way, Goodbye.’ “Despite Randall’s gripes, we’re all wishing Mr. Hayes the very best. It’s not the same without him around.”

“I hope my visit does some good,” I reply. “I don’t really know what I’m supposed to do, or what to expect.”

“From what I hear,” Claire says, “he’s dying to see you.”

I clasp a hand over my rising chest. “Really?”

She gives me a kind smile. “I hope you enjoy your flight. Please, don’t hesitate to ask me for any further assistance.”

I sit back, hugging a throw pillow as my feel-good movie comes on screen.

It still gives me the giggles seeing Wyatt as a jock.

He was the complete opposite when I knew him.

He wasn’t sporty, he’d actually hide from footballer-types, fearing they’d bully him.

Luckily, it gave us plenty of time to hide away together.

My favorite memories ever. Him strumming on his acoustic guitar, singing covers of pop songs, and me reveling in every moment, writing a new story as we forgot the rest of the world.

When I encouraged him to audition for Talent Quest, I never imagined it’d mean we’d lose contact.

He used to text me while on the set of the reality show, wanting to back out and come home.

I’d call him, spending hours on the phone, giving him pep talks to stay.

That he didn’t need to fear elimination because he was so talented.

I never regret telling him not to quit. Yes, he would’ve come home and we could’ve been together. But then the world would’ve been robbed of his talent. We wouldn’t have the albums and movies. I’ve barely heard from him in two years, but that doesn’t mean he ever left my heart.

I blink at the boy on-screen with the former child model-turned actress-turned popstar. Portia, so fancy she only uses one name. I blink harder and picture my face over hers, just like the images on my bedroom walls.

I’m on a private plane, destined to meet him.

Evidently, I haven’t left his heart either.

Throughout the movie, I continue to work on the poem from last night, adding another stanza.

Grateful for a touch,

Soulful in words,

In memories and such,

Spirited like birds.

I put the phone down, too overwhelmed to fix the phrasing, and zone out with the movie. When it ends, Claire sits a plate of finger sandwiches and a fresh OJ on the table in front of me. She then plays tracks from one of Wyatt’s live performances after he won Talent Quest.

As I eat a sandwich, I settle into listening to Wyatt’s upbeat voice.

“There’s something electric in the air,” he tells the crowd. “Are you feeling it?”

The crowd cheers “yeses” back at him.

“Okay,” he says, strumming on his guitar. “Then let’s get this party started. Singalong if you know it. This one’s called ‘Summer Glow.’”

The crowd goes wild for the song he released right after winning the reality show. He built his fanbase from playing covers, but ‘Summer Glow’ is one of his originals that’s insanely popular.

I hug the throw pillow tighter, giddy at the prospect of seeing him in the flesh.

There’s only two hours left of the flight.

A sweat bead rolls down the side of my face, while another tumbles down my spine.

I release the pillow and unbuckle my seatbelt.

As Wyatt plays the fun track, I stretch in my seat, trying to mellow out before our meeting.

I turn to Randall, who’s neck-deep in work. “Umm, Randall?”

“Yeah?”

I point at the TV. “Is it true, Wyatt doesn’t remember any of this?”

His face droops. “Nope. It really freaks him out.”

I suck in a sharp breath. “He’s freaking out?”

Randall shifts in his seat, avoiding my gaze. “You’ll see him soon enough.”

I gulp, needing to see Wyatt’s sweet face. “Claire? Can you play ‘Without You’ now?”

“Of course,” she says, getting the movie ready.

I exhale slowly, taking another finger sandwich. Will I see this version of Wyatt? Or has the injury turned him into a completely different person?

Randall busies himself with work. He obviously doesn’t want to tell me all the details. It must be bad if he’s using work as an excuse not to discuss it.

I pout, rubbing the space over my heart as I watch the devastated boy on-screen, hatching a plan to get the girl of his dreams back. There’s something so cute and innocent about his performance in this movie. It makes me gush every time.

My poor Wyatt.

I hope he hasn’t spent the past few weeks scared about who he is.

If I have to, I’ll spend all my time reminding him of how incredible he is.