Unwritten (A Beachwood Bay Love Story Book 11)

by Melody Grace

  Now…

  I was right.

  Zoey was going to bring some guy a world of trouble—I just never expected that guy to be me. But here I am, practically racing away from the B&B to get as far from her as possible before I do something I regret.

  I can still taste the sweetness of her lips, smell that maddening scent of her perfume. Her body, pressed close against me, tempting me to just grab her tight and kiss her the way I’ve been craving for weeks now, ever since that night at the party on New Year’s Eve.

  I can’t. That was a mistake, one I swore I wouldn’t be repeating.

  Fat lot of good that promise did you now.

  I let out a groan of frustration. What the hell was I thinking, letting myself be alone with her? It was a recipe for temptation from the very start. I wish I could turn back the clock, to before she leaned in close to me, and widened those smoky blue eyes…

  No, if I’m being honest, I need to rewind a lot further than that. To before I offered to walk her home; before I even invited her out to begin with. I figured I’d be safe, just a group from work hanging out after a long day on the set. Show that there’s nothing weird between us, that we’re still buddies after everything. After all, she’s the one who laughed off our kiss and acted like she didn’t even remember it. I figured she’d had too much champagne, things got out of hand. That was no reason why we couldn’t go back to the way things were before: casual, easy.

  Just friends.

  Then Zoey walked into the bar wearing that over-sized sweater, soft enough to stroke. She hitched up on the barstool, revealing three dangerous inches of her killer legs, and just like that, I knew I was in trouble.

  Dammit.

  I shake it off and keep walking. When am I going to learn me and Zoey Barnes are a dangerous combination? I know she’s off-limits, but ever since she got back from Europe, I just can’t seem to help myself. It’s like someone flipped a switch: one minute she’s just regular old Zoey, and the next?

  She’s Zoey.

  Captivating. Intriguing. Tempting as hell. Tonight was like New Year’s Eve all over again. I spent the evening watching her out of the corner of my eye, tuned to every shift of her lithe body, every giggle from those luscious lips. It made me mad as hell that I couldn’t get her off my mind, but once we were back at her place and I felt her body sway closer…

  Everything faded away. Her lips brushed mine, so sweet, and just for a moment, everything in the world made sense.

  Like I was home.

  No. I stop that thought dead in its tracks. I need to get my shit together and show some self-control, and everything will be fine.

  It has to be.

  By the time I make it back to Dex’s place, I’m ready to crash. He was happy to let me stay with him when filming moved to town; in his massive, beach-front mansion, he’s got plenty of space. I let myself in, feeling the same mix of pride and envy whenever I look at what my older brother has achieved. His band The Reckless took off when I was just out of high school: number one hit singles, world tours, VIP red carpet kind of success. I know it hasn’t been easy from him, and he’s had his share of tragedy, but still, I know I have a long way to go before I make it even half-way to his level. My acting career is on the climb, but I’m nowhere near this kind of wealth and fame—or getting name-checked as anything other than “Dex Callahan’s younger brother” whenever we get photographed out together.

  The irony is, he hates that bullshit. It’s why he moved out of Hollywood, all the way across the country to this small town nobody’s ever heard of. He’s happiest when he’s totally anonymous, just left alone with his fiancée to work on his music. I’m the one who grew up craving the attention, wanting the spotlight, the applause, all that, just for me.

  I find Dex hanging out in the living room with Tegan. “Hey,” Tegan greets me. “What are you doing out so late? You’re always bitching about needing ten solid hours to be all pretty for the cameras.”

  “First thing, I don’t bitch.” I reach over and ruffle her hair as I pass on the way to the kitchen. “And second, I’m pretty enough just the way I am. I was walking Zoey home.”

  Tegan frowns. “You were out with Zoey?”

  Guilt hits me. I’ve spent the past two hours lusting after my kid sister’s best friend. Could she be any more off-limits? “A whole group of us from the movie,” I explain quickly, grabbing some mineral water from the fridge. “Just a few beers at the bar. What about you guys?”

  “Trying to get Dex to set a date.” Tegan turns to our brother and tosses a cushion at his head. “I’m telling him, a class act like Alicia won’t hang around for long.”

  Dex rolls his eyes. “I can take care of my relationship on my own, thanks very much.” He doesn’t look worried, sprawled on the couch in his sweatpants. None of us Callahans have ever really had a regular schedule. Tegan went on the road with him for years, and has just started taking classes part-time, and my oldest brother, Ash, is the only one who comes close, but with his real estate empire, he works 24/7 these days.

  “When does Alicia get back?” I ask, leaning back against the counter.

  “She’ll be gone another couple of weeks,” Dex scowls. I laugh. His fiancee is the total opposite of him: a super-organized career woman who just set up shop running business affairs for other artists and musicians.

  “Why don’t you go visit?” I suggest. “You should be the one trailing after her for a change. She joined you on tour the last time.”

  He shakes his head. “I tried, but she told me I’m a distraction. She’s got work to do.”

  My cellphone rings; I glance down and wince. My agent.

  “Is that Krista?” Tegan asks.

  “Who’s Krista?” I ask absently.

  She cackles with laughter. “That girl you were dating last month.”

  “Oh. Yeah.” I give a guilty grimace. “We broke up.”

  “You can’t break up with someone you dated like, two weeks.” Tegan smirks.

  I shake my head and retreat into the next room to answer the call.

  “Josh. What’s up?”

  “I just had to explain to Jacques Carerre that you couldn’t come meet for a part in his next movie because you were out in the middle of nowhere shooting some shoestring indie bullshit film.”

  Josh is blunt as ever. He’s the best agent in the business—and he’s been pissed at me ever since I agreed to do this movie with Dash. “I thought we were past this,” I try.

  “Past you ignoring all my good advice? I’m in your corner man, I’m trying to make this happen for you. But you’ve got to listen to me when I tell you, you’ve got to start acting like an A-list star if you want to be one.”

  “It’s one movie,” I protest. “Another month of filming. When I get back, I’ll go to all the meetings you want.”

  “By then, it might be too late,” Josh mutters darkly. “You think you’re the only pretty boy on the block? Hollywood is full of guys like you on the verge of breaking out. “You know how many actually make it to the next level, become a Ryan, or a Brad, or a Johnny?”

  “Almost none.” I repeat the lecture I’ve had a dozen times since signing with Josh’s agency last year.

  “Almost none. Look, Judgement Day is your golden ticket to the big-time,” he says, naming my big breakout movie I wrapped filming in the Spring. A massive blockbuster alien invasion movie, it was my first leading role—and the whole reason Josh took a chance on me in the first place. “What matters now is what you do next,” he continues. “Do you want that movie to be the biggest moment in your career or the stepping stone to even greater things?”

  “You know we’re on the same page.” I try to calm him. “This is a favor for a friend.”

  “Just promise me you’ll read those scripts I sent over,” Josh pleads.

  I chuckle at the desperation in his voice. Anyone would think we were talking about world peace, and not another revenge thriller story. “Sure, I promise.”


  “How’s Lila?” Josh changes the subject so fast, my head spins.

  “She’s fine. Why?” I ask cautiously.

  “No reason. Maybe you guys should hang out, you know, get into character, really connect.”

  I smile. Josh couldn’t be more obvious if he tried. “Look, it’s late.” I avoid the hints. “I’ll read those scripts and check in soon. It’s going to be a great movie,” I add, reassuring him. “Don’t worry.”

  “You pay me to worry,” Josh shoots back. “Touch base tomorrow.”

  I hang up, watching the dark ocean lap against the shore. Funny how living my dreams just seems to bring a whole new set of problems. A couple of years ago, if you’d told me I’d be the star of a big action movie, with a top Hollywood agent on speed-dial, I’d have figured my life was made. But every rung I climb on the ladder, it seems like the stakes get higher—and I’ve got so much more to lose. I’m lucky, I know; there are a million guys who would kill to be in my shoes right now, but sometimes all I can think is, Don’t fuck this up for yourself. There’s too much on the line.

  I head for my bedroom, ready to crash. It’s only when my head hits the pillow that I see Zoey in my mind all over again: the way she looked in the darkness with her blue eyes falling closed, her lips parting as she leans in…

  But there’s no way it’s going to happen again. She’s Tegan’s best friend, for Christ’s sake! She’s like a sister to me.

  Except the things you want to do with her sure as hell aren’t brotherly.

  Two strikes, I tell myself. That’s all I’m allowed. Because I know Zoey, and as much as she’s transformed into this sophisticated, beautiful woman, that doesn’t mean she still isn’t the same girl I’ve known all these years. The girl who spent every vacation and holiday at our house because her parents were too busy to come back for her. The girl who would watch classic movies every weekend, gazing at Hepburn and Bogart and Bacall because she believed in the romance of their love stories.

  The girl I kissed at sixteen, because she desperately wanted someone to do it.

  And a girl like that deserves way more than me. Zoey deserves commitment and love. A man who is capable of a real relationship.

  I’ve never dated a girl more than a month.

  Sure, I’m fine with the fun stage, the flirting, the chase. But sooner or later, the fun part is over. They roll over in bed and want to get serious, to know all about my past, about my family, and what happened to my parents. They want to hold my hand, and gaze into my eyes, and have me unburden myself, like knowing the dark depths of my soul will somehow make us closer, make us real.

  But I can’t do it. I don’t even want to try. Real is the part of my life I don’t want to remember, an echoing hospital hallway; the day the sun shone, too bright for the black coffins that lowered into the earth.

  Real is dangerous. Real could unravel everything.

  And Zoey, she’s more real than anyone I’ve known. Which means this can’t go any further.

  It just can’t.

  7.

  Zoey

  I need a new plan.

  After Blake kisses me (for the third time), then turns around and pretends like it never happened (for the third time), I realize just spending time with him on set and hoping sparks fly isn’t going to cut it. There’s something holding him back from the connection between us, and it’s driving me crazy trying to figure out what’s going on behind those gorgeous blue eyes.

  What is he fighting? Why can’t he just admit there’s something going on with us?

  “It’s simple, darling,” my friend Elise sighs. We’re video-chatting on my phone, and even though it’s ten p.m. in Paris, she’s just getting ready to go out for the night. She multi-tasks, applying red lipstick as she talks to me. “Show up at his door wearing a trench coat, lingerie, and nothing else. Et voila!”

  I laugh. “I can’t do that!”

  “Why not?” she challenges me. “Men are simple creatures. If he’s overthinking this, then you need to give him a reason to stop thinking.”

  I let out a wistful sigh. I may have grown a lot in the past couple of years, but there’s no way I’m brave enough to take Elise’s outrageous suggestion. “I’ll figure something out,” I say.

  “Well, tell me, was it good?” Elise demands.

  “What?”

  “The kiss!”

  I smile, melting at the memory of his lips on mine. “So good.”

  She laughs. “Then maybe it’s worth taking a couple of risks to make it happen again. You don’t want to let the moment slip away!”

  There’s a knock on the equipment trailer door. “Zoey?” Kira’s voice comes. “Break’s over! We needs those new pages out stat.”

  “Coming!” I yell. I turn back to the screen. “Sorry, I have to go. Have fun tonight.”

  “You too!”

  I log off and run the printer, then quickly hurry back out to set. We’ve been shooting on the beach all week, filming the romantic summer scenes. Luckily, the weather has been perfect: bright sunshine and clear blue skies. Sure, the January winds are freezing us all to the bone, but the important thing is that it looks right.

  They’re in the middle of shooting a scene now, so I creep quietly to the edge of the crowd and watch. Blake and Lila are strolling along the beach together, talking. It’s the day that their characters first meet, and they’re being cute and flirty, getting to know each other. The camera is mounted on a track beside them, swooping smoothly backwards as they splash in the shallow surf.

  “So how are you enjoying the summer so far?”

  I marvel at how Blake can stay so focused. There are two dozen people just a few feet away from him, but he gazes at Lila like she’s the only girl in the world.

  The way I want him to look at me.

  “It’s definitely looking up.” Lila smiles up at him.

  I have to admit, as bitchy as she is on set, the minute the cameras start rolling, Lila is transformed. Those big blue eyes sparkle, and her smile is full of innocent laughter. She teases Blake coyly, splashing him playfully. Watching them together, I’m swept into the moment, seeing these two characters connecting for the first time.

  I always knew Blake had that special something. Even years ago, barely out of his teens, he had the charisma that set the real actors apart from the wannabes. I know how hard he’s worked to get to this point, all the thankless walk-on roles and auditions he poured his heart into, only to get rejected over and over again.

  Now, it’s all paying off for him, and I couldn’t be more proud.

  “And, cut!” Dash yells. Suddenly, the fantasy is shattered. Lila lunges away from the water, her smile replaced with a scowl.

  “Are you trying to give us all pneumonia? Betsy! Betsy!”

  Her personal assistant comes running with a huge down jacket. She swaddles Lila up tight. “If I catch a chill and my nose gets red and streaming, it’s all your fault,” Lila accuses Dash.

  He sighs. “Take five, everyone! Set up to roll again!”

  Lila heads for her trailer, Betsy following behind. I jump back out of her way. Ever since the coffee incident, I’ve made sure to keep my distance.

  I wait until she’s way up the beach before approaching Blake with the new script pages.

  I brace myself. He’s been avoiding me ever since the kiss, but I can’t stay away forever. We’re both professionals, I remind myself. You’re just doing your job.

  If my job includes gazing and lusting, that is.

  “Hey,” I approach him. “Great scene, you both looked really good out there.”

  Blake looks uncomfortable, “Uh, thanks.” He glances around, like he’s looking for an excuse to get away from me.

  “Relax,” I tell him, acting like I kiss guys every other day. “I’m not here to talk about…you know. I just have to give you these.”

  I hand him the script. He may be a great actor, but he can’t hide his relief that I haven’t mentioned the other night. “We can ta
lk,” he offers reluctantly. “If you want to?”

  I don’t think I’ve ever seen Blake so uncomfortable.

  “No, I’m good.” I give him a breezy smile. Now who’s the actor? I deserve an Oscar for this performance, but it seems to do the trick. Blake exhales.

  “Great.” He stops. “I didn’t mean— Sorry, I’m still thinking about the scene. We’re just setting up to go again,” he adds, gesturing to where the crew are carefully moving the camera and sound equipment back into place.

  I linger. Part of me wants to go hide away with a carton of ice cream and mourn the fact that kissing me is so damn forgettable, but part of me wants to learn more about the movie.

  Curiosity wins.

  “This might be a stupid question,” I ask hesitantly, “but why do you need to reshoot if you got the take right the first time?”

  “It’s not a stupid question.” Blake doesn’t seem annoyed. “Directors always shoot the same scene from different angles, so they can cut them together in the final movie. In this one, Dash was focused on Lila’s character,” he explains, “getting all her expressions, the things she was doing. Next time, he’ll do the same with me. Then, in the editing suite, he’ll be able to switch between them, so the audience can see both sides of our conversation.”

  “I get it,” I nod. It’s fascinating how much goes on behind the scenes.

  “Plus, Dash likes to push us to play it differently every time,” Blake adds.

  “You mean like next take, you could be more vulnerable?” I suggest, before I can stop myself. “Shit, I’m sorry,” I apologize quickly. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “No, it’s OK. What do you mean?” Blake looks curious.

  I flush. “Well, in the script, your character says how it’s your first summer alone. You’re playing it kind of charming right now, like you’re making fun of yourself. But…I don’t know, when I read it, I thought he was being sincere. I thought it was a nice moment.”

  Blake looks thoughtful. “I like that,” he nods, glancing down at the new script pages.

  I sneak a glance as he reads. The wardrobe department has outdone themselves today. The sky blue of his T-shirt is the exact same color of his eyes, and somehow, the soft cotton hugs every muscle of his abs, just begging to be touched.