Page 26 of Shy Girls Can't Date Celebrities
Tingles race up my limbs and I rub warmth into them. “It must’ve been so scary forgetting the past few years.”
He touches my hand and interlaces his fingers between mine. “It’s a trip. People keep te-telling me how much my life has changed.”
“Wyatt, you have an amazing career.” I curl my fingers over his. “I always knew you could do it. I’m so proud of you.”
He frowns. “But you haven’t been with me?”
“Well, I’ve had school, and you’ve been making albums and movies.”
Wyatt shakes his head, narrowing his gaze. “How am I in movies? I’ve never taken acting lessons.”
I giggle with a shrug. “You must have a natural talent.”
He looks at me with intrigue. “Are the movies good?”
“I love them. They’re teen rom-coms I’ve rewatched a zillion times.”
“Oh. So I’m not a gun-wielding badass?”
I giggle again. “Nope, you’re an adorable love interest.”
He laughs. “Boo.”
“Well, isn’t this just the cutest,” a female voice says, followed by two sets of footsteps.
I look ahead, and almost jolt. “Mr. and Mrs. Hayes,” I beam. “Hi, how are you?”
Wyatt’s parents walk into the room, and I almost don’t recognize them. They’re dripping in designer threads and their hair is perfectly styled. Something about their strides and the way they carry themselves is unsettlingly unfamiliar.
“Fabulous, now that you’re here,” Mrs. Hayes says, opening her arms to me. “How are you, Josie, darling?”
“I’m good,” I reply, sliding off the bed and meeting her in a hug. “I still can’t believe I’m here.”
“We wouldn’t have it any other way,” Mr. Hayes says as I pull out of the hug. “Wow, Josie, you’ve become a pretty little thing.”
“She’s always been pretty,” Wyatt pipes up.
Mrs. Hayes moves toward the bed. “How are you doing, sweetheart?” She kisses Wyatt’s forehead. “How’s the headache?”
“Bad,” he says bluntly. “They already gave me painkillers.”
“We’ll buzz the nurse for more,” Mr. Hayes says, reaching for a button near the bed.
Wyatt lifts a hand. “Don’t. They’ll kick in soon.”
“Well, can we get you anything, sweetie?” Mrs. Hayes asks. She then turns to me. “Josie? Anything you need?”
“No, thank you,” I reply. “I’m good.”
She turns back to Wyatt. “Sweetie?”
Wyatt shakes his head.
His dad nears the moveable table and gathers up the mess of cards. “How’s the numbness, son?”
Wyatt rubs his fingertips together. “Still here.”
Mr. Hayes shuffles the cards. “Maybe it’s time your doctor and physical therapist came up with a better plan than cards.”
