Unwritten (A Beachwood Bay Love Story Book 11)

by Melody Grace

  “You’ve got it made,” Tegan agrees, sipping cocoa. “But how does she feel about gentleman callers?” She waggles her eyebrows. I blush.

  “You’re getting way ahead of things,” I tell her.

  “So what’s the plan, anyway? Your big date with Dash.”

  “You mean, my big group chaperoned outing,” I correct her. “He suggested we hit some bars in the city, maybe even a club. I think a whole group is going now, I said I’d meet everyone out there for dinner. I figured an awkward car ride sandwiched between Blake and Dash wasn’t really the best thing,” I add.

  Tegan shakes her head. “I’m impressed, babe. Who knew big brother would get so possessive?”

  “I don’t know about possessive,” I sigh. “Dash is kind of a player. Blake warned me about him, actually, he could just be looking out for me again.”

  “See? He’s jealous.”

  “Or treating me like I’m his little sister,” I note.

  Tegan snorts. “Please. If anyone can make him wake up and realize he needs more than some rabbit-food-eating supermodel bimbo, it’s you,” Tegan declares. “Starting with tonight!”

  10.

  Blake

  By the time we make it to the club, my stomach is tied up in an angry, frustrated knot. Zoey can’t date Dash. She just can’t.

  Sure, Dash is my friend—he’s a great guy, and an incredibly talented director—but I’ve seen the way he burns through women. He’s almost as bad as me. That British accent plus his whole arrogant bastard routine has girls throwing themselves at his feet every time, and it burns like hell to think of Zoey falling for the same routine. She’s not like the other Hollywood girls, she deserves better. It’s up to me to make sure she doesn’t get hurt.

  At least, that’s what I’m telling myself.

  Not because you don’t want anyone’s lips on her except yours…?

  No.

  I shove aside the jealousy that’s been flaring every time I see them together, and focus on what makes sense. She’s a friend. She deserves better than a brief on-set fling. She doesn’t realize how these things work, how movie sets are a bubble filled with hormones. Soon, everyone will be pairing up, just as a way to work off some energy away from home. But the minute we wrap filming, Dash will be on to the next girl, and Zoey will be heartbroken.

  She’s worth more. So much more.

  “Waiting for someone?” Dash asks. We’re at a club, a new, stylish place with the music playing loud and people crammed in close. I drag my eyes from the door I’ve been watching ever since we arrived. Zoey’s running late, and I’m even more on edge waiting for her.

  Dash smirks. “You need to relax, man. That’s what tonight is all about. Blow off some steam, have a good time. I moved back the call-time to noon tomorrow, so you don’t even need to worry about getting bags under those pretty little eyes of yours.”

  He ruffles my hair as he heads to the bar, and I knock his hand away. I get that it’s my job to show up and look good for the cameras, but the constant digs about my appearance are starting to get to me.

  “If you think that’s bad, my agent just emailed me a new diet plan.” Lila sinks into the seat beside me. She’s drinking soda water through a straw, her lips glossed and pink. “He saw some of the early footage, and thinks I could stand to lose another five pounds.”

  “That’s crazy.” I look over at her. She’s practically a twig already, wearing a casual white tank top and denim miniskirt. When I picked her up in a scene the other day, I felt like I was going to break her in half. “You look great.”

  “In person,” Lila laughs. “But the camera adds ten pounds, ‘and you don’t want the blogs speculating you’re pregnant again, do you?’” she mimics her agent. “Because of course that’s the only thing that matters, and not how I actually, you know, act.”

  “You were great in the scenes yesterday,” I offer. I still haven’t figured Lila out: she acts like a raging bitch to the rest of the crew, but she’s fine with me. And in front of the camera, she’s a revelation, making me want to push harder, dig deeper, just to keep up.

  Lila shrugs. “I didn’t nail it. I wanted another few takes, but Dash wanted to move on. Don’t you hate it when you still feel like you have something to get from a scene?”

  “All the time. I’m a perfectionist,” I admit. “I could work all day on one thing, and still not feel like it’s right.”

  Lila looks at me carefully. “Yeah, you actually take this seriously.”

  “You sound surprised.” I take another gulp of beer, my eyes straying over to the front doors again. When will Zoey show up?

  Lila shrugs. “I’ve done a bunch of these smaller movies. Usually they’re packed with pretty boys off the CW who only care about how their hair looks. It’s nice to work with someone who gives a damn for a change.”

  “Thanks.”

  She leans over again, reaching for a fry this time, and doesn’t move back. Now she’s nestled up against me, her slim frame pressed against my side. “So, is your agent saying we should have a wild fling too?”

  I choke on my beer. “What?”

  I recover and look down at her. She’s totally nonchalant, curling one hand through my arm thoughtfully, as if she’s imagining how we’d look together in a photograph. “Come on, we both play the game. Tabloid rumors are the best thing that could happen to this movie. That’s a ton of free publicity right there, every time they run our pictures. Don’t say you haven’t thought about it.”

  I shake my head. “No.”

  I’ve been too busy thinking about Zoey to focus on anything else.

  “Huh.” Lila looks surprised for a moment, then her beautiful face smooths out and she’s smiling that cover-ready smile again. “Well, we should. Think about it. You’re not seeing anyone right now, are you?”

  “I…no.”

  “Me either. It’s about time I was dating again, if I leave it too long, I get those tragic headlines. You know, me eating alone, ‘poor Lila, dumped and broken-hearted’. Never mind that all my friends are like, two feet away, edited out of the shot. The two of us together would be a great draw,” she adds. “Like I said, it would give the movie a ton of buzz. And it could be fun.” She nestles closer, her gaze turning flirty. “All that time we have to kill between takes…”

  I blink, thrown by her change in mood. One minute she’s detached and clinical, the next, her thigh is pressing against mine and her fingertips are stroking up my arm.

  “I, uh, don’t think so.” I try to edge away from her. “It would make things kind of complicated.”

  “Clearly.” Lila smirks, looking past me to something across the bar. I turn.

  Zoey.

  She’s standing in the doorway, looking incredible in a little slinky black dress. It’s the same thing she was wearing on New Year’s, I realize, and right away, the memories hit in a blaze of pure lust.

  Her body pressed against me. The feel of that silk under my hands. The heat pulsing between us as I claimed those sweet lips and tasted her gorgeous, ripe mouth—

  I snap back to reality, but it’s too late: Zoey’s seen me here with Lila. Her smile dims. She walks straight past me towards the bar—and Dash. Every muscle in my body goes rigid as I watch her lean in to kiss him on the cheek. He rests a hand on her lower back, and she smiles up at him like he’s the only man in the room.

  I want to punch something.

  “Really, her?” Lila asks.

  I turn. “What?”

  “Nothing.” She smiles sweetly. “Anyway, you think about what I said. We would be good together.” She leans up and presses her lips to my cheek, lingering to whisper in my ear. “And all those rumors you’ve heard about me? They’re true.”

  Any other man would be dragging her to bed right about now, but I can’t help looking over at Zoey again. Our eyes meet for a second, but I can’t read the expression on her face. She turns back to Dash and flutters her eyelashes at him, pressing even closer.


  Dammit, what the hell is she doing?

  Without thinking, I break away from Lila and start for the bar. “Hey guys,” I say loudly. Zoey barely looks at me. Up close, she looks even more gorgeous: her blonde hair tousled, her eyes smudged dark and sexy. She looks like she just rolled out of her lover’s bed, and that thought sends a fresh hit of frustration slamming through me.

  I want that lover to be me.

  “Dance with me,” Zoey’s saying to Dash. She takes his hand, pulling him playfully towards the dance floor. “I feel like going crazy tonight.”

  “How can I resist?” Dash gives me a wink, and then follows Zoey away. The music is playing loudly, and I watch Zoey’s hips start to sway in time with the beat. Those hips could stop traffic. She’s pure poetry, a goddess in motion.

  She presses closer to Dash, and he leans in to whisper something in her ear.

  I grip my beer bottle harder. I don’t want to think about what he’s saying; just watching his hands on her body is driving me crazy. My heart pounds faster, an angry rhythm in my chest. Dammit, can’t she see she’s playing with fire? He’s going to mess her around. He could never give her what she really needs: more than just a one-night fling, something real.

  Zoey slides closer to him. She whispers back, and then his hands are on her waist. Sliding lower. Lower…

  I’m on my feet and cutting through the crowd before I can even think twice.

  I told myself I was going to stay away from her, but I can’t help it. Someone’s got to keep that girl out of trouble.

  “Zoey, I need to talk to you.” I grab her hand, interrupting whatever cozy rendezvous Dash had planned.

  “I’m busy.” Zoey ignores me, but I don’t let go.

  “Come on, Zoey, now.”

  “Now?” she echoes. Her face changes. She gives me a glare. “I’m sorry,” she tells Dash sweetly. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Take your time,” he grins, giving me a wink. “And remember, you owe me that twenty.”

  Dash is a friend, one of my closest, but right now it takes everything I have not to punch him in that smug mouth.

  I turn on my heel instead, pulling her through the crowd. “Slow down,” Zoey says, trying to keep up, but I’m seeing red right now.

  His hands on her body. Their chests pressed against each other. His lips grazing her cheek.

  My blood runs like fire, as I try to get us clear of the crowd. Why does it make me so goddamn furious to think of them together?

  She’s not mine. I have no claim to her.

  But you want her.

  “Blake!” Zoey finally yanks free, coming to a stop. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  I gulp for air. We’re in the back hallway of the club, narrow and dim. Someone pushes past us, and then Zoey is standing close—too close—her arms folded angrily across her chest, the black silk rising and falling with every angry breath.

  God, she looks gorgeous when she’s mad.

  “You want to tell me what that was about?” she demands, her eyes flashing. “I was in the middle of something.”

  “I saw. Hell, the whole club saw,” I growl. “But you don’t know what you’re doing. You can’t fool around with Dash like that.”

  “Why not?” Zoey shoots back. “There’s nothing stopping me. I’m single, he’s single. And you’ve made it clear…” She stops.

  “I’ve made it clear what?” I demand, taking a step closer. She moves away, until she’s backed against the wall.

  “That you aren’t interested.” Zoey’s voice drops to a whisper. She glances away, her cheeks flushing pink.

  Is that what she thinks?

  I stare in disbelief. Doesn’t she realize the effect she has on me, how hard I’ve been fighting to stay away? Every night, knowing that her number is on my speed-dial, that her room is just a short walk down the beach?

  Falling asleep to the memory of her lips against me, waking up to dreams of her body, writhing in pleasure beneath mine.

  The club seems to disappear, everything fading except the two of us, right here. The charge pulses between us, dangerously hot.

  I should walk away right now, let her believe I could care less. And if I was a smarter man, maybe I would. Instead, I ask slowly, “Is that really what you think?”

  Zoey looks back at me, and the rejection in her eyes cuts clean through my chest. “You’ve blown me off twice now,” she says miserably. “I get it, it’s fine. Whatever.”

  She turns away, trying to leave, but I move to block her path.

  “Don’t go.”

  She whirls back. “What do you want?” she cries, “Come on, Blake, tell me, because I’ve basically been throwing myself at you for weeks now, and you act totally oblivious. And now the minute I get close to another guy, you’re suddenly acting like you own me.” She shoves at my chest, furious. “What the hell is your problem?”

  “You!” I yell, “You’re my problem!”

  Zoey blinks, startled, but it’s too late. All my frustration boils over, out of control.

  “I’ve been trying to stay away, but you’re everywhere!” I yell. “Do you know what you’re doing to me? On set, at the house with Tegan, here with Dash—I can’t get away.”

  “He’s not—” she tries to interrupt me, but I’m past listening.

  “And all I do is think about kissing you, holding you,” I confess. “I’ll be rehearsing for a scene, and I see you across the room and suddenly I’m right back there on New Year’s, going crazy with wanting you. Dammit, Zoey, this has to stop!”

  Her eyes flash, angry. “So make it stop,” she demands. “Stop fighting it, I know you feel this too, so why won’t you just quit pretending and make it real?”

  Real.

  The word crashes through me. That’s what she wants, that’s what I can’t give her. I don’t even know the meaning of the word. Everything I do is for show: I spent my life playing pretend, and it doesn’t end just because the cameras stop rolling. But now Zoey’s screwing with the system, making me want something other than just the surface bullshit. I want to know her, know every little thing that makes her laugh and smile and howl with rage.

  I want to know her body from the inside out, feel her clench around me as I thrust deep inside.

  I want to hold her as the tremors fade, and whisper my deepest secrets in the dark.

  I want more.

  My fight drains out of me, leaving nothing but self-loathing. I back away. “This can’t happen, you and me. I can’t give you what you need.”

  “You don’t know what I need!” Zoey suddenly cries. “You keep saying, this can’t happen, but then it does. There’s something between us, Blake, and it’s not going anywhere. And neither am I. So what are you going to do about it?”

  I clench my fists. She’s pushing me to the brink here, and I want her so badly, I don’t know how long I can hold back.

  Her lips, soft and tempting. The fire in her eyes, demanding more.

  “What are you waiting for?” She challenges me again. “I’m not some little kid anymore. I know what I want, and I want you. This. Us.”

  She steps closer, backing me against the wall. I can feel her now, smell the scent of her perfume. Her presence drowns everything out, until I can hear nothing but the thunder of my heartbeat and the roar of desire echoing with every moment.

  Stop fighting. Stop hiding.

  Take her.

  So I do.

  11.

  Zoey

  Blake’s lips crash down against mine, kissing me with a determined hunger like I’ve never felt before. He grips my shoulders, pushing me away from the crowds until my back hits the wall and he’s hard against me.

  Everything stops.

  I fall into the kiss, arching up against him, desperate for more. His tongue plunges into my mouth, demanding total control, licking against my lips and tasting me, deeper. I shudder, grabbing greedy handfuls of his shirt to pull him even closer, so there’s nothing between us
anymore, not even air.

  Hard muscle, hot hands. The beat pulses, deafening, mingling with the crazy thunder of my heartbeat, so loud I lose track of where it ends and where the music begins. Blake shoves his thigh between my legs, and now I’m wrapping myself around him, lost to everything but the sensation of his mouth and our lips and the glittering grind of our bodies as we devour each other whole.

  What is this?

  To call it a kiss would be laughable, God, this is so much more. His hands are roving over my body, gripping my ass and clutching at my dress. And I’m just as needy, sliding over the gorgeous planes of his back, grabbing at his belt, yanking him closer, closer. My blood is on fire, racing through my body in a clawing surge of desire. He thrusts against me, and I moan into his mouth, my breasts tender, crushed against his chest; a tightness aching between my thighs.

  I’m over the edge, past all control. All those years of wondering, I never knew it could be like this—and he’s right here, falling with me. Muscle and sinew and hot breath on my cheek.

  Blake.

  He tears his lips away from mine, panting hard. His eyes glint, wild in the dark, and it sends a fresh shudder of lust through me to see him like this.

  I did this. I made him leap.

  “We’ve got to go,” he growls, pushing back his hair.

  My heart falls.

  Blake catches my expression, and manages a grin. “To somewhere private,” he grounds out, kissing against my neck all the way up to my earlobe. The rasp of his stubble against my skin makes me shiver even before he says, “I don’t want to fuck you up against this wall, but God, I’m close.”

  “OK,” I gasp, trying to function again, even as my head spins. “Where?”

  “Anywhere.” Blake pulls back, just far enough to meet my gaze. He cradles my cheek in his hand, stroking my lips with his thumb, back and forth, back and forth.

  I close my eyes and sink back against the wall, overwhelmed. My brain is frazzled, short-circuiting with every touch,. “I can’t think when you’re doing that,” I protest.