Page 51 of Shy Girls Can’t Date Celebrities (Shy Girls Sweet Romances #6)

Wyatt and I hold hands for the ten-minute drive over to the recording studio. We’re shown inside, and Wyatt is ushered forward and introduced to a music producer. Portia stands by his side, and the management team surrounds them.

I edge backwards, feeling claustrophobic in the small space. Behind me are two couches, and Randall stands in the corner, staring at his phone. I fold my arms, tapping my elbows with awkwardness.

As I take note of everyone crowding the space, I clear my throat and ask Randall, “Where’s Jenna?”

Randall barely looks up from his phone. “She’ll be around later. Apparently she had something important to take care of.”

Dang it. If I could sit next to her, I might feel less on edge .

Wyatt and Portia are shown into the recording booth. It has a glass wall so we can watch them perform. Wyatt’s given the guitar he had in the penthouse back at Cherry Beach.

“You’ve played so many live performances with this guitar,” Erika tells him. “We’re getting the real you back.”

The comment makes me feel beyond icky. However, I plaster a smile on my face for Wyatt’s sake.

I wall-hug as Wyatt and Portia begin the song. Wyatt doesn’t miss a beat with the guitar, but there’s apprehension in voice as he sings. Ugh. He can’t try the new lyrics. I don’t blame him. It would be daunting, having everyone stare at him like he’s a zoo animal.

I watch Portia tackle the bridge, and she sounds a little rusty. No doubt struggling with jet lag and burnout from her European trip. Wyatt’s voice melds with her, and soon, tingles race down my back.

Oh my gosh, he’s doing it. He’s singing the words I wrote.

I glance around at everyone watching, waiting for them to lean forward in wonder.

I swallow hard, only spotting confusion everywhere I turn. My heart leaps into my throat as I spy Portia in the booth. She continues to sing her lines, but her eyes slit as Wyatt’s words take her off guard.

“Wait, Wyatt,” the producer says, tugging at his headphones. “What was that?”

Wyatt fumbles with his guitar and says into the microphone, “Umm, the song?”

The producer snaps his fingers. “Someone get him the right lyrics. The boy keeps forgetting things.”

Wyatt lifts a hand. “No, it’s not like that. I changed the lyrics.”

Erika leans over the producer’s shoulder. “Wyatt, hon. This isn’t a time for improv. We’ve gotta get this in the can.”

“If you listen to it, you’ll see that...”

“Wyatt,” the producer cuts him off. “Just go with the lyrics as written. Yeah?”

Wyatt presses hard into a frown, and then replies with a nod.

“Okay, let’s take it again,” the producer says. “Portia, lead us off.”

I can’t help feeling a little rejected when Wyatt and Portia try the song again. Without even giving the new words a chance, the suits cut them off immediately. I’m about to sink into the floor, when my heart lifts me up again.

My chin drops and pigment comes back into my skin.

Wyatt’s changing the lyrics again. He’s going back to the words we stayed up all night working on. My gaze drifts to Portia and I note the corners of her mouth curling upward. There’s a different inflection in her words and she bops to the music as she sings.

There’s more edge in how Wyatt strums his guitar, and his voice is more powerful than any other time he practiced. People in my surroundings shift, not knowing how to act. I can’t help sensing some agitation in the room.

Erika nudges the producer. “Cut it.”

Wyatt and Portia stop singing, blinking at everyone in the room.

“This isn’t working,” Erika says bluntly.

“How isn’t...”

Erika lifts a hand, cutting Wyatt off. “We know what works, Wyatt. We’ve been with you for years. We have the market research.”

“But, if we try this,” Portia speaks up, “and then you test it with...”

The producer gets up from his swivel seat with a grunt. “Take five, everyone. I feel a massive headache coming on.”

Randall gains my attention. “You have to get going. Your car is out front.”

My stomach drops. “Oh, okay.”

“I’ll let Wyatt know so you can say your goodbyes.”

I back away from the others as Randall moves closer to the booth to let Wyatt know my car has arrived. Wyatt’s complexion dulls and he leaves his guitar in the booth. When he makes his way toward me, he nods at the rear door, signaling for us to have a moment alone.

“I tried,” Wyatt says, leaning against the exterior brick wall.

I caress his cheek. “It sounded really good.”

“Is it just me, or was Portia sticking up for the new lyrics?”

“She seemed into it,” I say with my heart lodged in my throat. “Hopefully after I leave, she stays on your side.”

Wyatt huffs heavily, running his hands down my arms. “This can’t be real. It’s really time for you to go?”

My eyes grow itchy as I stare into his hazel eyes. “Unfortunately, yes.”

“Pull it together,” Lexy’s voice says harshly from around the corner.

It takes me aback. I edge myself backward, seeing her and Portia leaving the studio on the other side.

“Ugh. I just hate this,” Portia complains, balling her fists. “I hate lying to him.”

I suck in a breath, turning to Wyatt, who stands stiff against the wall and stares blankly ahead.

“You know it’s for his own good,” Lexy says. “Sure, when you both knew you were playing parts, it was easier. But you can’t expect Wyatt to play along when he can’t remember your partnership.”

Portia moans. “But we never lied to each other before.”

I rub the space over my heart, hearing the sincerity and heartbreak rattling through Portia’s tone.

“I liked looking at our relationship as a game,” Portia admits.

At that, Wyatt tenses beside me and a soft retch echoes from his throat.

“We’d laugh about everyone assuming we were a couple,” Portia continues. “It made it easier for us to pursue the people we actually wanted to be with. Well, at least I was dating. I don’t know about him. He hardly opened up about it. I guess he was always holding onto Josie.”

I suck in a breath and make sure I’m securely hidden behind the wall. Wyatt clasps my hand and I breathe out slowly. So they do all see it. Just how magnetically Wyatt and I are attached.

And Portia’s not jealous? She’s just playing a role?

“Portia, hon, you can’t back out now,” Lexy says matter-of-factly. “You’ve done so well. You’ve made Wyatt believe there was something romantic to your relationship. You’ve made him relax and get back to work. We need you, hon.”

A shattered sigh pours out of Portia. “But it feels so wrong. I just want to sit down and talk to him. Like we used to.”

Wyatt drops my hand and marches back into the studio. I hurry behind, careful not to call out to him. I don’t want Portia and Lexy discovering we were eavesdropping.

Back inside, I manage to clasp his hand. “Wait,” I hush. “Talk to me.”

“They’re using me,” Wyatt snaps. “Portia led me on, thinking I was cheating on her with you. And they’re all in on it.”

I hold the sides of his face, hoping to calm him down. “Just breathe. Remember your journal entry? You knew Portia was being fake.”

His face grows hot in my hands. “But I didn’t know management was behind it all.”

“Wyatt?” Erika questions. “What’s going on?”

“I know you’re all manip-manipu...” Wyatt grunts at the floor in frustration. “You’re using Portia to make me work. I’m not playing these games anymore.”

Richmond closes in on him. “Wyatt, no one is using anyone. We’re all here to keep your careers moving forward.”

“No, you made Portia talk me into coming back to work!”

Portia enters the studio, her mouth ajar. “Oh my gosh,” she utters. “You heard us out there? ”

Wyatt tugs on my hand. “I’m taking Josie to the airport. You all better back off.”

We rush out of the recording studio, and I’m beyond dizzy as we hit the pavement.

“Come on,” Wyatt grunts. “Let’s get in the car.”

“Are you okay?” I ask, stumbling behind him. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, I want to leave.”

“But what about when I get on the plane? Will you be okay, coming back to face all this?”

He stops and turns around to me. “I’m not coming back.”

I choke on air. “What?”

His hands land on my shoulders. “I’m going with you, Joze. I’m going home.”

I gasp for air. “Are... Are you sure?”

He smiles. “Will you take me with you?”

With the emotions bubbling inside me, I frantically nod.

Wyatt mumbles a laugh. “Can you breathe, Joze?”

I squeak. “ Just .”

“Come on, beautiful. Let’s get out of here while we still can.”

As we move into the car, a garbled jingle starts to play. I look at Wyatt as he fishes inside his pocket and then hands me his phone. “Can you make this thing stop ringing?”

I show him the screen. “It’s Portia.”

Wyatt frowns. “Don’t answer it.”

I lean forward as our car joins the rest of the traffic. “Maybe you should. They might chase after you otherwise.”

Wyatt’s lip upturns. “I don’t want them stopping me from leaving.”

“Then talk to her.”

He motions at me to press the buttons. “Put it on speaker. I’m not talking to her alone. ”

I hit answer and the speaker button, even though I have no intention of using my voice in this conversation.

“I’m sorry,” Portia rushes through the phone line. “They made me do it. I didn’t want to lay it on so thick, but my career is on the line too.”

“You lied to me,” Wyatt says.

“I embellished,” she replies. “I’m sorry. They wanted me to pretend we were more than friends. They said it’d be easy because there was always speculation we were a couple. I was just supposed to make it seem real.”

Wyatt’s brow furrows. “Why?”

“To motivate you. Ugh, it’s so icky, I know. It was out of desperation.”

“I don’t need head games, Portia. My head hurts enough.”

“I’m so sorry, baby.” She huffs through the receiver. “Sorry. Honestly, we do call each other baby, but it was never serious. We did it as a joke. The managers always wanted us to pose for photos like a couple. We’d call each other baby, making the whole thing one big game. A charade.”

“But this time I wasn’t part of the game,” Wyatt says, the hurt shaking his words. “I was the one being played.”