Page 74 of Shy Girls Can't Date Celebrities
Wyatt sits up and pats my thigh. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s cool it.”
I lower my hands and sit up. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean...”
“It’s okay. You’re not into it.”
“I’m into you,” I rush, clutching his shoulder. “Just... My family. They won’t leave my head.”
“Do you want to call them?”
An ache burrows into the back of my skull. “Not until I know Erika called them first.” I push a hand into my uneasy gut. “I don’t want to make things overly messy.”
“Why don’t we check out the rest of this pad?” Wyatt says, scooting to the edge of the couch. “It was too hard to look around without someone racing to my side with the wheelchair or walking cane.”
“Maybe you should take the cane.”
He side-eyes me.
“What? I don’t want anything to go wrong. If you stack it, I can’texactly hold you up.”
He pushes himself off the couch with a grunt. “Fine, I’ll take the walking cane. Not that I need it.”
“No, of course not.”
“Sarcasm?”
I smirk. “Not at all.”
Wyatt gestures at the walking cane, which leans against an armchair. “Just hand it over, would ya?”
I smile and give it to him. He then steps forward, putting his weight on the walking aide.
“I wanna check out these bedrooms,” he says, making his way ahead of me. “I gotta pick the best one.”
“You could sleep in a different room each night.”
“Or my parents will move in. They should, shouldn’t they?”
“It’s up to you. Personally, I would move mine in, but it’s not the same situation.”
He halts, allowing me to step in line with him, and then nudges me. “You could move in here.”
My face reddens. “Ah, what?”
“Why not?” he says, edging his way closer to the bedrooms. “The floor below me is too far away. We could be roommates.”
Tingles dance under my skin. “Are you serious?”
He tilts his head, watching me with braced apprehension. “You don’t want to?”
“Of course, I want to. I always want to be close to you. It’s just...”
“Joze, I didn’t say move into my bedroom. You’d have your own room.”
I giggle nervously. “No, yeah, of course.”
“Besides, kissing wipes me out. If we did anything more, you might put me back in the hospital.”
At that, red blotches cover my chest and arms, eliminating any hopeof hiding my flushed embarrassment. Has he been thinking about doing more than kissing me? Has he done more than kissing since moving away from Victoria Falls?
