Unwritten (A Beachwood Bay Love Story Book 11)

by Melody Grace

  My secret boyfriend, who nobody knows is dating me.

  “And…action!”

  I watch as Blake slowly unhooks Lila’s bra-strap and kisses along the hollow of her throat. She throws back her head with a moan, and then the two of them are tumbling back onto the bed, totally swept up in the passion between—

  “Oww!” Lila suddenly shoves Blake back. “You’re crushing my chest!”

  “Cut!”

  Blake groans in frustration, rolling off her.

  “I’m sorry,” Lila protests, pulling her strap back up. “I need to breathe, OK?”

  “OK love,” Dash soothes her. “Let’s break for fifteen, we can pick it up after.”

  There’s a lull on set as Lila flounces out. It’s their tenth take of the day, and she’s always finding a new reason to stop. First it was the lighting, then she was afraid the camera was getting an angle with too much skin. At this rate, they’ll still be naked at the end of the week!

  As the cast and crew all focus on resetting the equipment, Blake catches my eye across the room. “Hey, Zoey,” he calls, sounding casual. “Did you print those new pages I asked for?”

  “Not yet, sorry,” I reply loudly, in case anyone is paying us attention. “I’ll go get them now.”

  “I’d appreciate it.” Blake smiles. “You can bring them to the dressing room.”

  “I’ll be right there.” I wink as I turn and hurry out of the room. I head straight for the small back office that’s doubling as wardrobe and makeup. It’s empty, so I slip inside and wait. Ten seconds later, Blake arrives.

  He sweeps me into his arms and pushes me back against the wall, kissing me hard and deep until I’m breathless.

  “Close the door,” I manage to gasp, coming up for air. “Someone will see.”

  Blake quickly shuts it, and turns the lock. “There.” he flashes me a devastating smile. “Now I’ve got you all to myself.”

  “For ten minutes,” I laugh. “Until you have to go have sex with Lila again.”

  Blake smirks, sliding his hands around my waist. “I’d rather be having fun with you,” he murmurs, dipping to kiss my neck. I shiver.

  “Except, without the audience.” I tease, melting back against the wall.

  Blake kisses higher, against my earlobe. “No cameras, no awkward posing, just us.”

  His mouth finds mine again, and then there’s no more talking, just hands sliding and tongues delving, and the sweet breathless rush of it all. I clutch his robe, pulling him even closer, reveling in every touch.

  My head spins, and I feel like I’m floating on cloud nine.

  Blake is mine—finally.

  After years of daydreams, I’m really in his arms, and it’s better than I could have imagined. All week long we’ve been snatching moments together, here on set and back at the B&B. The movie’s shifted into high gear, and we haven’t had much time to ourselves, so every minute counts. The moment we get a break on set, and I can sneak away, we find somewhere to hide and make out like a couple of teenagers. It’s thrilling and sexy, and I can’t get enough of him.

  Reluctantly, we come up for air. “You should get back.” I sigh, checking my watch. I could stay here kissing him forever, but don’t want to get him in trouble.

  Blake doesn’t release me. “Come over tonight,” he murmurs, smoothing my hair back. “We could order in, watch a movie…”

  “Not watch a movie,” I joke.

  He gives me a smoldering look. “Promises, promises,”

  His finger trails down between the buttons of my shirt. My stomach twists with delicious anticipation. For all the sneaking around, we haven’t come close to crossing the line. It’s been innocent and above-the-belt, and the sexual tension in the air could light the house on fire.

  I duck out of his embrace before I seriously think about yanking that robe off him. “Good luck with the scene,” I tell him. “Try not to have too much fun groping Lila.”

  “Aww, don’t worry. I’ll be thinking about you the whole time,” Blake promises.

  “Weird, but cute.” I beam. “OK, I really have to go now. I have a job to do, remember?”

  “One more kiss.”

  Blake pulls me back to him, this time finding my lips in a slow, hot kiss that makes me combust from the insides out. I slide my hands under the robe, over his broad chest, savoring every touch.

  Then from down the hall, I hear my name being called. “Zoey?”

  Blake finally releases me. “You go first,” he nods. I go to the door and peep out. The coast is clear, so I check that everything is buttoned and on straight, then slip back into the hallway. I walk away with an extra swing in my step. A moment later, my cellphone buzzes with a text.

  You look so hot in those jeans.

  I turn back. Blake is watching me with a private grin. I laugh and flutter a wave, then head back to work—bumping straight into Kira in the narrow hallway.

  “There you are! Great,” she says, pulling me away. “I need you to run some errands. Here, I wrote everything down.”

  I check the list. “Baby oil?”

  “To get Lila and Blake all sweaty and glistening,” Kira smirks. “Wardrobe says they’re all out!”

  Since the errands give me a free pass from set for the rest of the afternoon, I call Tegan and make plans to meet at the diner in town. Fifteen minutes later, we’re tucked away in the back booth at the diner, inhaling a mountain of hot, salty fries. I love this place: the jukebox plays old Prince and Springsteen, and the red leather seats are like something out of a movie. Mrs. Olsen opened it years ago, and although she doesn’t handle the day-to-day running anymore, she loves to hold court behind the counter and say hi to all the locals.

  “So,” Tegan begins, when finally we come up for air. She sits back and fixes me with a look. “What’s happening with Blake?”

  “You don’t have to ask,” I bite my lip. “You know, if it’s weird.”

  “Please,” Tegan rolls her eyes. “Your my best friend, I want to know all about it. OK, maybe not all…”

  I laugh. “It’s good. Great.”

  She waits. “And?”

  “And, nothing. It’s been so busy with the movie, and since we’re keeping it under wraps…” I shrug and eat another fry.

  “I don’t get it, the sneaking around thing.” Tegan looks bemused. “I mean, you’re both free and single, consenting adults. You should be making me sick with all your lovey-dovey couple stuff. I was braced for you to be totally insufferable,” she adds. “Talking non-stop about how amazing he is, and how in love you are. But…you’ve been so calm. What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong!” I protest. “We’re just taking it slow, that’s all.”

  I pause. All week, something’s been nagging in the back of my mind. I’ve pushed it aside, swept up in the thrill of our secret rendezvous and private make-out sessions, but with Tegan right here, I can’t ignore it any longer. “I just thought things would be different by now,” I say slowly, feeling disloyal for even mentioning it. I have everything I wanted, I shouldn’t be complaining.

  So why do I feel like something isn’t right?

  “I’d call you and my big brother sucking face pretty different,” Tegan grins.

  I throw a fry at her. “It’s not that. I just…feel like he’s holding back with this whole secrecy thing. Keeping me at arm’s length.”

  “Even when he’s trying to get in your pants?” Tegan cracks.

  “Hey!” I protest, then shake my head with a sigh. “You know what? It’s nothing. I’m overthinking this. What’s new with you?”

  “No! I’m sorry,” Tegan says quickly. “I’m listening, I promise. ”

  “It’s fine.” I insist again. I look down at the empty plate between us. “I’m still hungry, I think I’m going to order some pie. You want some?”

  “Duh.” Tegan reaches across the table and grabs my hand. “Hey, it’ll be OK,” she says, sincere. “He’s probably just distracted with all the m
ovie stuff. Once you wrap filming and get to spend some quality time together, everything will work out.”

  “Right,” I nod, trying to see sense. “He’s trying to do his job right now, I shouldn’t get weird if he’s focused on that all day. And we’re hanging out tonight, that’s good, right? I’ll see if I can get him to unwind.”

  “Too much information!” Tegan cries.

  I laugh. “Hey! Who do you think I am? ‘A Ridgecrest girl is always a lady,’” I mimic our old headmistress.

  Tegan giggles. “‘Proper decorum sets us apart from the beasts,’” she adds, finishing the old woman’s favorite phrase. She shoves the final few fries into her mouth and grins.

  “Real decorous.” I slide out of the booth and head over to the front counter to order some of Mrs. Olsen’s famous apple pecan pie. But even though I tried to laugh off my concerns, the unease still lingers in the back of my mind.

  Being with Blake isn’t like how I imagined. I know we’ve only just started dating, but it seems like all we’re doing right now is the secret make-out sessions and sneaking around. If you take all that away, nothing’s changed.

  I thought Blake would open up, or that I’d feel closer to him somehow after that night in the city. We had such a connection, I felt I was finally stripping down all that charm and bullshit, down to the real Blake underneath. What we shared was deeper than anything I’ve felt before, but now it’s like we’re right back at square one.

  I don’t know what this means to him at all.

  My head spins when he walks into the room. He affects me so much: I want to know where he is, how he’s feeling, what he’s thinking about. But he’s still closed off—that same charming guy he’s always been, like nothing’s piercing the surface with him. And keeping our relationship a secret…?

  I understand he’s used to all the tabloid attention back in Hollywood, but we’re out in the middle of nowhere here, and I want to be able to hold his hand in public and go on a real date; show him off and kiss him because I want to, even when people are looking.

  What if he’s ashamed of you?

  The voice whispers in the back of my mind, but I try to shut it down. I pay for the pie and take the plate, but as I’m walking back to the booth, I catch sight of a magazine someone’s left on their table. It’s one of the tabloids, and I can’t help recognizing Blake’s face on the bottom of the cover.

  I grab it and slide back in opposite Tegan.

  “Look, he’s making the front page!” I exclaim, flipping excitedly to the story inside.

  Blake and Lila heat up! Couple gets cozy filming new movie. Wedding bells ahead?

  I stare at the magazine in disbelief. There’s a two-page spread of photos: shots from the set, long-range grainy paparazzi shots of Blake and Lila filming a passionate kiss. And the two of them in the club, last week: nestled together, her hand on his arm, Blake laughing as she whispers in her ear.

  I feel sick.

  “What does it say?” Tegan asks. She pulls it over, then curses. “Ignore it,” she says, trying to stuff it in her bag. “They make this stuff up all the time.”

  I snatch it out of her grip and flip back, reading aloud. “Sources say Blake and Lila have been inseparable. ‘The chemistry is crazy between them, it’s obvious to everyone on set that they’re more than just friends.’”

  I stare at the photos. Is this why Blake has been hiding our relationship? Because he secretly has feelings for Lila too?

  “No,” Tegan says firmly, reading my mind. She yanks the magazine away. “Don’t even think about it. This is just stupid journalists making stuff up to sell copies.”

  “But what if it’s true?” I lift my eyes to Tegan, struck with a sudden fear.

  All this time, I’ve been so focused on winning Blake over, I never thought for one moment about what would happen after.

  What if I won the man of my dreams—only to find he doesn’t really want me after all?

  15.

  I go crazy trying not to think about the gossip articles, but I don’t hear from Blake for the rest of the day, so I send him an awkward text.

  Still good to hang tonight?

  I wait anxiously for a reply. I hate that I’ve become this girl: taking ten minutes to compose the perfect casual message, when really I want to walk right up to him and demand “What do I mean to you?”

  I flop back on my bed. I can’t resist googling him on my phone—and finding a long list of gossip blogs all cooing breathlessly about him and Lila. I groan. Maybe if I’d had more experience with guys I wouldn’t feel so lost, but Blake was always the only man I wanted experience with. I imagined what it would be like to date him a million times over, but somehow, in my daydreams of us together, I never pictured being tangled up in such a mess of insecurity.

  Wanting him so much, but having too much distance between us to really connect.

  Seeing glimpses of his warmth and affection, and then him acting like I don’t exist.

  Something’s holding him back. He’s sending so many mixed messages, it makes me crazy inside. But I don’t want to be the clingy, needy girlfriend all of a sudden. Tegan’s right: we’ve technically been dating less than a week, and if it was anyone other than Blake, I would be laughing this off. In Paris, I flirted and dated like crazy, keeping guys waiting, showing up late and blowing them off if I felt like an evening in front of the TV instead.

  But Blake isn’t any other guy. It’s impossible to separate all the years of our friendship—of me wanting more—from what’s happening now. And if it all goes wrong…

  I’m struck with a sudden dread. I’ve been ignoring just how much is on the line here. If he doesn’t want to be with me, then what happens? Will I have to swallow my heartache every time I see him? Not be a part of the Callahan family anymore?

  These people mean the world to me. I always knew it was a risk, crossing the line with him, but now the possible consequences shake me to my core. There’s so much more than just our relationship at stake here.

  I check my phone again. No reply.

  What the hell are you doing, Zoey? A voice scolds me sternly. Waiting around on some guy?

  If you want an answer, you have to ask him a question.

  If you want more than this, you need to make it clear.

  I get up. A sudden surge of determination burns hot in my veins. I don’t want to rush Blake, but if he’s having second thoughts about this, or regrets that it even happened, then I need to know.

  I’ve already spent long enough waiting on him. I’m not going to waste any more time.

  I pull on a sweater, grab my bag, and drive over to the beach house. Dex answers the door, dressed in his usual uniform of jeans and a vintage band T-shirt. “Hey,” he smiles, looking surprised to see me. “Come on in. You’ve got good timing,” he adds. “Blake’s been stomping around in a temper all evening. Maybe you can cheer him up.”

  I blush. Does this mean he knows about us? “Did he see the gossip magazines?” I ask, following Dex into the living area.

  “Magazines?” Dex looks blank.

  “Oh. Nothing. Just more tabloid stuff,” I quickly say.

  He snorts, picking up his guitar. “What are they saying this time? According to some blog, Alicia dumped me for having a threesome with two models, that’s why she’s off in New York and I’m in rehab. You shouldn’t believe a word of it,” he adds darkly.

  “I know. Tegan said the same thing.” I look around anxiously. “Is Blake…?”

  “In the music room,” Dex nods down the hall. “Tell him I’m going to order pizza, if he’s allowed to eat carbs. I swear, he’s been so vain about prepping for those shirtless scenes, working out at dawn.”

  I smile. “If he doesn’t, I’ll eat for the both of us.”

  Dex chuckles. “I can always depend on you!”

  I head down the hall to the room at the far side of the house. It’s a small, glass-walled conservatory that Dex uses for his song-writing, with a piano and some co
mfy couches. Now, Blake is pacing the room like a caged animal, talking loudly on his phone.

  “…But what does this mean? Do they want to do reshoots? Dammit, Josh, what the fuck have you been telling me all this time?” He pauses, still pacing. “I can’t stay calm! Everything was riding on this, and now you say because of one shitty screening—”

  He sees me standing in the doorway and stops. I give an awkward wave. He turns away.

  “No, I get it, you make the calls,” he sighs into the phone, the fight draining out of him. “But let me know about Hemsely as soon as you hear. OK, talk soon.”

  He hangs up and tosses his phone down on the couch.

  I loiter nervously. “That didn’t sound good.”

  “Yeah, that would be an understatement.” Blake’s face twists into a sarcastic smile. “Since my entire career just went up in smoke.”

  “No,” I gasp. “What happened?”

  “My agent called. They had the first screening of Judgement Day, and it bombed.” Blake shakes his head. He turns away and suddenly slams the flat of his hand against the wall. “Fuck!”

  I flinch, shocked at his sudden outburst. I’ve never seem him like this. “Hey, it’s OK.” I quickly cross the room and place a soothing hand on his arm. “Talk to me, it can’t be that bad.”

  “It is.” Blake’s face seems to crumble. He sinks back against the wall. “They hate me, Zoey,” he says, hollow. “The studio boss, the publicity people, everyone says it’s a piece of shit.”

  “That’s impossible,” I argue, but he just pulls away, scowling.

  “Three months I spent in the studio, acting against a green screen, pretending to have conversations with people who weren’t even there. I knew something was wrong, I just knew it. But everyone told me, you make a movie in the editing suite, the director will pull it together. And with all the music, and special effects…” Hhe looks ill. “And I believed them too. Fuck, I need a drink.”

  He heads past me, down the hall to the kitchen. I follow, arriving just as he pulls a beer from the fridge and takes a long gulp.