Page 64 of Shy Girls Can't Date Celebrities
He shrugs again. “I touched it.”
“What about your glasses?”
His nose scrunches up as his lip upturns. “I don’t like them, they pinch my nose.”
My eyebrows arch. “You’re in one of the fanciest hospitals in the country with the top physicians. I’m sure they can provide you with the most comfiest glasses imaginable.”
He shifts away. “I just don’t like them. Happy?”
A nervous laugh splutters out of me. “Happy that you’re being such a baby about a pair of glasses? Not really. They seriously look cute on you.”
He reaches forward and slides them back on the table. “Don’t get used to them.”
“Okay, whatever. I’ll let the lack of effort with the cards slide, considering it’s so early in the morning.”
Wyatt hooks a finger under my chin, turning me to face him and instantly meeting me with a kiss. I’m quick to lean in, pretty sure I’ll never get enough of him.
He sends me a wink. “Can’t we just keep doing this instead?”
I glance at the cards. “You wanna abandon your hands and do everything with your mouth instead?”
He bites into his lip, zeroing in on my mouth. “Right now, yes.”
I slide a hand along the side of his gorgeous face, unable to stop the swooning within. “I can’t let you give up on these exercises. You’re too talented.”
“It might be all gone.”
I shake my head and tap the space on his chest over his heart. “It won’t be. I know it’s still in you.”
He relents with a small smile and reaches for another card. “I’ll try. Only for you.”
“You’re doing it for yourself.”
“Th-that didn’t work,” he says, moving another card. “I quit when I was by myself. But I sure as heck don’t want to see you upset.” He looks at me with a shine of determination in his eyes. “You’re my motivation, Joze.”
I take him in, shakily moving cards around the table. He’s slow and deliberate, and I find myself holding my breath. I don’t want to move an inch, crack his concentration, and have him throw in the towel. His music means too much to him. It means too much to me. And, it means too much to the world.
Eleven
Dr. Fincher had a final check in with Wyatt, plus Erika and Lexy have been in and out with their respective assistants. With all the chatter, Wyatt was glazing over as he rubbed the ache from his temples.
When he held my hand, he told me this morning’s headaches were worth it.
It was all leading to him getting out of this place.
“Morning,” Savanna says, pushing a wheelchair into the room.
Wyatt frowns. “What the heck is that thing doing in here?”
Savanna taps the brakes. “It’s time for you to leave us.”
“In that?” Wyatt winces. “Nuh-uh. No way.”
“Please indulge me,” Savanna says, patting the wheelchair. “Just to get you downstairs and into the parking garage. Once you’re at the hotel,you can use either the frame or the cane.”
Wyatt blows out a breath as his eyes roll upward. “Soundswaybetter.”
Savanna chuckles under her breath. “I know. They have some geriatric connotations, but you’re still in a stage of your recovery where you need the apparatuses. I don’t want you overdoing anything and hurting yourself.”
