Page 100 of Shy Girls Can't Date Celebrities
“It’s the ocean,” I say breathily. “I can smell it from here and it’s gorgeous.”
“I wish there wasn’t so much traffic and then we could hear the waves.”
I eye his walking aide. “Do you think you’d manage getting closer to the beach sometime soon?”
“I’m sure we can get one of the security guys to drive us down there.”
“Yeah, but,” I pause, glancing at the cane again, “you can’t exactly walk across the sand, can you?”
“It’s not like my legs don’t work,” he says, scuffing his way past me. “I need everyone to relax about the fact Imightfall over.”
“Wyatt, I...” I trail off, watching him trudge toward the balcony edge. I shake off the coldness and follow him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to suggest something that might not be the best fit for you.”
“I know you’re looking out for me,” he murmurs, keeping his back to me. “But ev-everyone is either telling me to be ca-careful or blow off medical advice to g-get back to work. It’s like whatever suits them at the time.”
I rub his shoulder and he turns to face me. “We’re ignoring all those people today, remember?”
His smile is small. “Right.”
I turn my gaze to the beach and slouch. “I’m not a water person by any stretch. My dream of walking along the sand is moot anyway. It’s Cherry Beach. It’s famous for being constantly overcrowded.”
“Then we should find a stretch of beach that’s isolated.” His eyes brighten and he snaps his fingers, missing his thumb and making a faint whooshing sound. “That’s what we’ll do today. We’ll have security drive us along the coast and we’ll find an empty beach. We wanted to do something where it was just us, right?”
“Oh my gosh, that sounds incredible.” I plant my hands on cheeks, giddy. “And you’ll have plenty of space and time to make your way across the sand.”
“And no crowds to spike your anxiety.”
I hook my pinky around his. “Let’s do it.”
Footsteps enter the terrace, and we turn as Hubert carries a silver tray toward us. It showcases two tall glasses of fruity deliciousness.
“It’s some kind of fruit cocktail,” Wyatt says, gesturing at the drinks. “I thought it’d be nice in this setting.”
Hubert hands us the glasses, and I grin when Wyatt’s hand doesn’t tremor when he takes his glass.
“May I get you anything else, sir?” Hubert asks Wyatt.
Wyatt turns to me. “Do you want me to get security ready to drive us along the coast?”
“Only if you’re feeling cooped up,” I say, twirling the straw through the fruit cocktail. “At the moment, we have a rooftop pad completely toourselves.”
Wyatt clinks his glass against mine. “True.” He nods at Hubert. “We’re cool for now.”
Hubert nods and then leaves the balcony terrace.
“It sure is dreamy out here,” I say, eyes wandering along the pool. “And, heck, it is secluded.”
Wyatt leans his walking cane against the glass panel of the balcony railing, and rests his back against the rail. “This is cool. I’m standing outside. I haven’t done this in weeks. I’m feeling good.”
“It might be another slow day, but at least it’s us choosing what we want to do. Nobody’s here to boss us around.”
Wyatt smirks. “And I’ve got that part handled. Learning I can threaten not to work has really come in handy.”
I laugh, remembering Erika’s deer-in-headlights look when Wyatt expressed his unhappiness with her presence.
Wyatt peels himself off the balcony railing and slips off his flip-flops. “Wanna sit by the pool’s edge?”
“I can handle that.”
