Page 52 of Shy Girls Can’t Date Celebrities (Shy Girls Sweet Romances #6)

“Wyatt, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was trying to get the old you back.”

“The old me is back. The old me is the ver-version that never left Josie.”

“You still have a contract with Circle 8. You still have a career to come back to.”

“Maybe I don’t care about it anymore.”

I reach out and grasp his hand as Portia says the words I’m feeling. “You don’t mean that.” Wyatt opens his mouth to rebut, but Portia continues with, “I saw first-hand how you work a crowd. You’re into this. And you lit up when you went into the booth today. ”

“Only when I wanted to sing Josie’s words.”

“Our song is locked,” Portia says with a heaviness to her words. “But, I wanted to let you know, I really did like the lyrics.”

Wyatt squeezes my hand back. “Really?”

“They were beautiful and packed with emotion.” A sorrowful sigh comes through the speaker. “Oh, I hate that I’ve ruined things. Wyatt, I promise, we were really good friends. I wish you could remember us.”

“I can’t. I remember you as you are now.”

“I’m the same person. I got scared and forced into this mess. I should’ve refused, but they threatened my career. I’m sorry, but it’s the one thing I’m not willing to give up.”

“So our friendship wasn’t that important then?”

“That’s not fair. It’s not what I meant. My career is my identity. Without it, I don’t know who I am.” Her voice cracks. “Except when I had someone like you in my life. You kept me real. Grounded. You’re special, Wyatt.”

Wyatt sighs, rubbing his forehead. “Portia, we’ve gotta go. I’ll leave you to tell Erika and the others that I’m not coming back.”

Portia gasps. “Ever?”

“I just need space. All I’ve had is people in my face, telling me who I am and what I have to be. I need time to figure it out for myself.”

“Okay, Wyatt. I owe you that much.”

“Bye, Portia.”

Her voice cracks again. “Bye.”

“Whoa,” I breathe out when the call ends. “That was intense.”

Wyatt sits back, hitting his head against the headrest. “What a mess.”

I ditch Wyatt’s phone into my handbag and clutch his hand. “You’re really serious about going home with me?”

“Dead serious.”

“Then we should make a detour by your loft. ”

Wyatt shakes off the suggestion. “Nah, I can get anything I need in Victoria Falls.”

I squeeze his hand. “What about the journal?”

His eyes brighten, and he leans forward to gain the driver’s attention. “Can you swing by my place?”

“Sure, no problem, boss,” the driver says and changes lanes.

Thankfully, Wyatt’s loft is close to the studio.

I volunteer to go inside for him, wanting him to avoid using extra energy.

I dash into the first floor bedroom, which appeared setup for him, and realize my handbag is still hanging over my shoulder.

Rolling my eyes at myself, I search the closet for an overnight bag.

I pull out a light gray duffle bag and stuff it with clothing items Wyatt may need.

I throw the strap of the duffle bag over my other shoulder and hightail it upstairs.

I snag his journal from the bed and zip up the bag.

I then retrieve his acoustic guitar and smuggle it inside its case.

With a mixture of awkwardness and caution, I make it down the stairs with my handbag, the duffle bag, and the loaded guitar case.

More of Wyatt’s things were left in the living space for him, and I spy his walking cane leaning against the couch.

I cross my fingers, and collect it just in case.

While I’m evaluating how to get out the door with all this gear, the driver enters the apartment to help me.

I hand over the guitar case and walking cane, ready to follow the driver out with the duffle bag still hanging over my shoulder.

I leave the loft apartment and Wyatt’s phone rings through my handbag. My gut tenses, imagining it’s Portia again or worse.

“Please, please, please,” I wish as I take out his phone. “Please don’t take him away from me.”

My mind is a flurry with Erika and Lexy making wild plans. I imagine them stopping us at the airport and dragging Wyatt back to the studio. My hand trembles as I stare at the unknown caller ID.

High on adrenaline, I hit the answer button instead of decline, and lift the phone to my ear. “Hello?”

“Oh, uh...” a male voice splutters. “Hi... I...”

I move toward the car and the driver takes the duffle from me. He sits it in the trunk with

Wyatt’s guitar and cane.

“Are you the new PA?” the guy on the phone asks.

It takes me aback. “Huh?”

The voice grows quiet. “I’m... I’m looking for Wyatt.”

I blankly move into the backseat, trying to work out whose voice this is. The driver gets back into his seat, and Wyatt tells him to take us back to the Learjet.

Wyatt then turns to me, mouthing, “Who is it?”

I bite my lip before asking, “Who is this?”

“It’s... It’s...”

He’s hesitant to reveal his identity, which makes my heart surge more adrenaline through my body. “Devon?”

Wyatt stares at me in shock as the voice on the line continues to fumble.

Traffic wooshes past us, but at this moment, it may as well all be in slow-motion.

Finally, he clears his throat and answers, “Yeah, it’s Devon. Who is this?”

“Josie,” I blurt. “I’m with Wyatt. Where are you?”

“I can’t tell you. Jenna has reached out to me and...”

“Jenna?” I cut him off. “She told me she couldn’t contact you.”

“It’s not important right now. I need to explain what happened to Wyatt.”

“Where have you been?” My palm sweats against the phone. “He’s needed answers for weeks, and you bailed on him.”

“Can I talk to him?”

I take in Wyatt, who’s turning a pale tinge of green, and lower the phone. “Do you want to talk to him?”

“I...” He shakes his head. “I wouldn’t know where to start.”

I gesture with the phone and suggest, “Speakerphone?”

When Wyatt shrugs, I hit the speaker button, and say, “Okay, Wyatt’s here.”

“Wyatt?” Devon asks.

Wyatt opens his mouth, but his words don’t budge.

After a few moments of silence, I ask, “Can you let us know what happened?”

“Can I meet you guys somewhere in private?” Devon asks. “I can explain everything. I just want to do it somewhere secure.”

“We’re about to get on a flight to Victoria Falls. Why don’t you meet us at the airport?”

“No. No way. I can’t have Circle 8 knowing where I am. Look, I’ll meet you guys there.”

“In Victoria Falls?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s a long drive. Over twelve hours by car.”

“Just wait for me, okay? It’s important.”

Wyatt gulps, and leans closer to the phone. “We will.”

There’s a long pause on the other end, until Devon’s voice shows a shred of happiness. “Wyatt. Oh man, it’s so good to hear your voice.”

“You know who caused my accident?” Wyatt asks, bracing himself.

Devon sighs. “I do.”

Wyatt swallows hard. “Was it you?”

“No.” Devon pauses before adding, “I’ll explain everything. I promise.”

“I live on Hamstead Avenue in Victoria Falls,” I tell Devon. “Number thirty-seven. Come over as soon as you get to town.”

“I will.” Devon replies. “And, Wyatt... It’s really good to hear your voice again, brother. See you soon.”

And with that, the line goes dead.

“Holy cow,” Wyatt mutters. “He actually reached out.”

“Jenna actually came through,” I say in wonder.

“You asked her to find him?”

“She didn’t believe Devon could hurt you,” I reply. “Even Portia didn’t believe it. You saw her face back at the hotel. It pained her to talk badly about Devon.”

Wyatt rolls his eyes. “That girl can fake anything.”

When the car pulls up on the tarmac, I’m quick to leave the car. I dart around to Wyatt’s side, knowing he can’t move at a hurried pace like me.

Perhaps he got an extra dose of adrenaline after the events we went through. Wyatt bolts toward the Circle 8 Learjet, leaving me in his dust.

He turns around, laughing. “Come on, Josie. Don’t you want to go home?”

“I was trying to be slow for you. I didn’t think you’d ditch me.”

“I’ll carry you up the stairs if you want.”

“Despite how Disney-romantic that sounds, I’ll have to say no. You’re gonna have to do extra physical therapy after sprinting across the tarmac.”

With a lightened mood, we board the plane and are greeted by Claire.

“Oh, Mr. Hayes,” Claire says, startled. “You’re back?”

Wyatt nods. “I’m going to Victoria Falls with Josie.”

“Okay, I’ll update the manifest,” Claire replies. “Anyone else joining us?”

“No,” Wyatt and I are quick to respond.

Claire jerks from our abrupt reply, and swiftly composes herself. “Not a problem. Please, make yourselves comfortable, and we’ll get ready to take off. ”

Wyatt and I take our seats, and while the driver brings our belongings onto the plane, I take the time to call my mom with an update. The pilot comes out to speak with Wyatt, and I frantically tap on my armrest, hoping Mom answers before I need to set my phone to flight mode.

The dial tone stops and I’m quick to blurt, “Mom?”

A gasp whooshes through the phone. “Josie, what’s happened?”

“Mom, don’t panic,” I rush. “I just want you to know I’m on the plane to come home.”

She cheers. “Oh, yay! I’m so thrilled.”

“Will you pick us up at the airport?”

“Yes, of course, I’ll come and get you.”

“ Us , Mom. Wyatt’s coming with me.”

The line goes quiet.

“Mom?”

“I heard.”

My back stiffens. “Is this okay?”

“I just... What does this mean?”

“There’s no team coming with us. It’s just me and him. So you need to keep it on the down-low.”

“You make it sound like he’s running away from home.”

“Essentially, he is.”

“Is Wyatt okay? He’s not in any danger, is he?”

I sigh and lower my voice. “We need to get him away from these people. It’s totally toxic.”

“Do his parents know he’s coming with you?”

“Oh, I haven’t filled you in on the emancipation document, have I?”

“Oh, dear.” Mom gasps. “This does sound like a mess. Ever since you told us about the broken relationship with his parents, your dad and I have been concerned about him.” Mom takes a minute, composing herself.

“Look, if Wyatt needs to get away, to feel safe and supported, then yes, he can stay with us for a few days.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

“I don’t know what this means long term. If he’s not working, what’s his plan to support himself? Or is he going back to work after a certain amount of time off? Or...”

“ Mom ,” I cut her off. “Please don’t spiral. I’ll text you our arrival time. I can’t wait to get home.”

“Me too, darling. We’ve missed you too much.”