Page 120 of Shy Girls Can't Date Celebrities
“But I don’t need to show my face or deal with any people. I just write at my desk and submit the work to be judged. I didn’t even have to go anywhere to collect my award.”
“You don’t have to be around anyone to write some songs.”
I click my tongue. “I’ve met Erika and Lexy. They like to controleverything. Have everyone in their bubble. I’m happy to be here as your friend, but I can’t work with you. I couldn’t stand the pressure.”
“Okay,” he says in a defeated tone. “You don’t have to be around me anymore.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t want...”
“I don’t want to force you to be in my world.”
“Wyatt, I want...”
“And, look, I’m sorry for springing the gi-girlfriend line on you,” he says, fidgeting. “It’s just, we, we said I love you, and all the ki-kisses, I just...”
“Wyatt,” I raise my voice, cutting him off. People at the next table turn and stare. I hunch forward, lowering my tone. “I love you, and I want to be your girlfriend.”
“I love you an unreal amount,” he whispers. “I just want you around all the time.”
“I know.”
“I want you to be all mine, Josie Bartlett.”
I lift off my seat, leaning across the table to kiss him, soft and slow. I pull away gently and brush my nose against his. “I’m yours, Wyatt Hayes.”
He caresses the sides of my face. “I’m sorry for getting defensive. I just hate the thought of you not being with me.”
I sit back down, severely aware of his fear of me leaving him.
“And, I really meant it when I said you should write lyrics,” he says, brightening. “I think you’d be amazing at it.”
“Thanks. But maybe I’ll just pass some poetry your way, and you can pass it off as your own. I think I’d feel more comfortable not taking the credit.”
“Seriously?”
I nod. “I’m much more at home in my short story world.”
He shrugs. “If you’re sure. I’m keeping the offer on the table, though.”
I blow him a kiss. “It’s appreciated.”
Eighteen
Security escorted us to the penthouse after we were stuffed with delicious food, topped off with a to-die-for almond cannolis. The decadent meals were almost enough to rid the thoughts of inadequacy from my head.
Last night, Wyatt and I had just enough energy to curl up on the sectional couch. We wrapped ourselves in a shared blanket, and watched another movie from our childhood. This time one not so cringe-worthy. Despite feeling drained, Wyatt’s mind was whirring. Meeting fans had him buzzing, and all he could think about was performing again. As we watched the movie, he used the elastic he got from Savanna to strengthen his hand. He kept muttering about how he’d be playing his guitar in no time. Unfortunately, by the time the movie ended, Wyatt was hit with an excruciating headache, which sent him to bed early.
I told him I’d make a start on my homework, but my brain my crippled by negativity. I pushed the emotions into a short story as much as I could, but all I really wanted was a group hug from my family. Keeping the tears at bay, I video called Mom and asked her to put the twins on. I read them the new story, and they were both so rocked by the emotive language, they went to sleep without a fuss.
Mom probed me to tell her what was wrong, but I couldn’t admit I’m not measuring up. I mean, everyone else can already see it. I’m not cut out to be the girlfriend of a teen celebrity. It was thrilling when Wyatt labeled us an official couple, but all the romance was dashed once the mob of fans surrounded him. There’s no next time that I will be okay with that situation. I will run every time.
I rub my growling stomach, surprised I’m hungry after yesterday’s Italian feast. I’m really feeling peanut butter on toast for breakfast. It’s simple and reminds me of home. Ugh. I just want to be home right now.
I change into one of my new outfits, and after I fix my hair, I pick up my phone from the end of the bed. There’s a text from Kylie.
“Umm. Have you looked online?”
My stomach flips.“What are you talking about?”
