Page 63 of Shy Girls Can't Date Celebrities
He grins, tugging me close again. “Do over?”
“No,” I tease. “You don’t deserve it.”
“Oh, come on. You don’t mean that.”
“Nope. That’s it.”
His laughter simmers as he intertwines his fingers with mine. “You really gonna hold out on me?”
I sigh, leaning to one side as I let him tug on my hand. Unable to contain my giddy smile, I close in—this time without the frantic urgency—and let his mouth meet mine first.
Our kiss is gentle and sweet. His bottom lip slips against mine, and then he kisses me again with the right amount of pressure to make me moan. Oh goodness, can this boy make my whole body quake. His head tilts as he smiles in the kiss, and my fingers walk along his shoulders until my arms hook behind his neck.
His lips gradually pull from mine with a breathy sigh. “Man. Howcould I ever be stupid enough to let you go?”
“I don’t care about that,” I whisper. “I just need this moment.”
He kisses me again, pulling me close so my hips push against the insides of his knees. His hands stroke the length of my back, and then his lips move to my jawline.
“You should hop up on the bed,” he mumbles between butterfly kisses.
“Maybe I should,” I whisper, catching my breath. “My knees will give out soon.”
Whoa.
Wyatt.
Hayes.
Kissed.
Me.
He mumbles a laugh, pulling back so I can move beside him. I grab our hot chocolates and sit them on the small moveable table next to the playing cards. I sit up on the bed next to Wyatt, wheeling the table in front of us.
Wyatt waves off the table. “I don’t need to sah-sah-see all that meh-meh-mess right now.”
I shrug, lifting his glasses and offering them to him. “We have a while until you leave. Maybe we could mess around with them for a bit.”
He waves them off. “I don’t want to.”
I set the glasses down and then collect the cards and give them a light shuffle. “You should practice. If you can pick these up, it’ll make it easy to pluck the strings of your guitar.”
He sits back, uninterested. “I don’t need the pressure.”
“It’s not pressure,” I insist. “You were practicing when I walked in, anyways.”
He frowns. “I’d given up on the cards.”
“Fine,” I say, placing the pile on the table. “I’ll play by myself.”
He smirks. “What? Reverse psy, psy...”
I nudge him playfully with a goofy grin. “Yes, that.”
Wyatt shrugs, reaching his index finger out and slipping the first card off the top of the pile. The card falls, face down, on the table, and Wyatt drops his hand.
I eye him. “Is that it?”
