Unwritten (A Beachwood Bay Love Story Book 11)

by Melody Grace

  “I’m getting there.” She gives a light shrug. “One page at a time, right?”

  “That’s my approach too!” I turn my laptop around so she can see the blank screen. “I never knew what writer’s block was like until I had five different people waiting to read the new scene.”

  “But it’s coming along, right?” Sophie sips her iced coffee.

  I nod. “I love it, I do, it’s just scary, diving straight in the deep end. I know there are so many people who would kill to be in my shoes,” I add, looking around at the cafe of writers all probably dreaming of a break like this. “It just makes me more determined to do a good job.”

  I know it was a lucky coincidence that got me this gig with Dash, which means I want to work extra-hard to prove I’m worth the shot.

  “So…” Sophie changes the subject with a pointed look. “The big premiere’s tonight.”

  “Uh huh.” I slurp my coffee.

  “Tegan and Ryland are coming in for the premiere…Dex and Alicia. The whole gang.” Sophie continues.

  “Yup.” I nod. “It’ll be fun to see everyone.”

  “Everyone?” Sophie echoes.

  I sigh. “Almost everyone.”

  Sophie shakes her head. “I can’t believe he didn’t even invite you to the premiere, after everything. Asshole.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” I tell her gently. “Take my side. There are no sides. It just wasn’t meant to be.”

  “You really believe that?” she fixes me with a look.

  I shrug. “I have to. Otherwise…”

  Otherwise, the heartache is too much to take. Otherwise, I fall asleep haunted by “what ifs.”

  Otherwise, I remember that he didn’t choose me.

  “Do you think you’ll see him again?” Sophie asks.

  I shake my head. “I can’t. It’ll be fine,” I add quickly, wanting to believe it. “I can see Tegan and everyone separately. And besides, he’ll probably be busy with press stuff and promoting the movie. He won’t have any time for me.” I feel a pang. “I mean…you know what I mean.” I finish, slumping lower in my seat.

  I don’t know which would be harder: seeing him again, or not. It’s bad enough getting hit by old memories out of nowhere, but if I had to stand right in front of Blake and look into those devastating blue eyes…

  I might just fold, and beg him to take me back. Be with me on his terms, whatever they would be.

  But that’s no life, I remind myself. Being held at arm’s length, never knowing if I can truly depend on him when I need to.

  Pretty words and mindless kisses are only half the story. What matters is what happens when things get real and there isn’t a script to follow. And Blake’s already shown me he can’t take it.

  Or he doesn’t want to.

  My thoughts are interrupted by the noise of Dash dragging over a chair and slumping beside us. “Coffee,” he groans, his dark hair scruffy and sunglasses covering half his face. “And will someone turn down that bloody racket?”

  “Get it yourself.” I nudge him with my foot. “I’m not your assistant anymore.”

  “More’s the pity.” Dash sighs, removing his sunglasses and squinting at us in the bright California sunshine. “What about you, love?” He turns his charm on to Sophie. “I’ll buy you whatever you want. Name your price.”

  “I’ll settle for another latte.” Sophie takes pity on him. She accepts the crumpled fistful of dollars Dash pulls from his pocket and gets up. “You need anything, Zoey?”

  “I’m good, thanks.”

  She goes to the front counter. Dash leans to rest his head on the table. I reach over and ruffle his hair.

  “Who was it this time?” I ask affectionately.

  “Marissa.” Dash turns to look at me. “I’m in love.”

  “You said that last week,” I smile.

  “I mean it this time.”

  “Let me guess, she’s an actress?”

  “Yes!” Dash sits up. “And she would be perfect for this too. We just need to rewrite a little, make the girl more of a jaded party girl—”

  “No.” I stop him before he tells me to rewrite the whole script based on his flavor of the week. “We already changed it because Becca was perfect for the role, and then Kayleigh. You’re keeping your grubby mitts off this script until you can keep your pants zipped.”

  Dash scowls theatrically. “I liked you better when you were all wide-eyed and in love,” he pouts.

  “Me too,” I sigh, turning back to my laptop.

  Sophie returns with their coffees—and a massive slice of chocolate cake. “For you,” she says, placing it in front of me.

  “Is this pity cake?”

  She nods. I sigh. “Who am I kidding? I’ll take it.”

  “You won’t fit in your dress tonight,” Dash snarks, stealing a finger-full of frosting.

  “I’m not going,” I say, shoving a massive chunk in my mouth.

  “Why not?”

  “He didn’t invite her,” Sophie explains while I chew.

  “Seriously?” Dash frowns, his playful look turning serious. “Why don’t you come as my date instead? Make him jealous.”

  “Dash…” I protest.

  “What? It worked like a charm last time. And if he doesn’t take the bait, well, you could do worse.” He grins, chocolate smeared all over his chin.

  “Who could refuse an offer like that?” I laugh, grabbing a napkin and dabbing at his face. “But no thanks.”

  Dash and Sophie look at me, not convinced.

  “I mean it,” I say. “I’m through with games and plans, trying to snare him like some kind of animal. Besides, I’ve got a hot date with Netflix and next door’s cat. You two go to your fancy premiere. I’ll be just fine!”

  ***

  We get down to work for the rest of the afternoon, until Sophie and Dash have to head out to get ready for the premiere. I drive home alone, enjoying the skyline of palm trees waving overhead and the green lush rise of the Hollywood Hills. My apartment is in a 1920s building just below the Sunset Strip. I moved in a month ago, and now I have a place to call my own on the third floor, with bare wooden floorboards, sun-drenched windows, and a fire escape out back for the tabby next door to come sneaking in in search of kibble.

  I let myself in and check my phone for messages.

  “Hey babe, our flight just landed,” Tegan’s voice comes excitedly in my voicemail. “We’re heading straight for the hotel, so, umm, we can get ready. But I’ll see you tomorrow for brunch, OK? Can’t wait to catch up!”

  I feel a pang of guilt that she’s stuck in the middle here: it would be so much easier to turn the clock back to before New Year’s, when I could hang out with all the Callahans together and nobody felt weird about excluding me.

  Except back then, I was the one keeping everything locked inside. I have to believe that it’s better now: I tried everything I could, I was true to myself, and if it didn’t work out…

  Well, sometimes that happens.

  Even with love.

  I call to order some takeout, trying to forget the fact that Blake is back here in town. He’s probably already walking the red carpet, giving interviews and basking in the spotlight.

  I wish I could be mad at him, maybe it would be easier that way. But instead, I feel proud. I know how hard he’s worked for this moment, and part of me wishes I could be there tonight to support him, despite everything.

  There’s a noise from outside, coming from near the fire escape.

  “Is that you, Ginger?” I call, expecting the tabby cat to be squeezing through the window. I grab a bowl and some kibble and cross the living room. “Here, kitty, kitty!”

  But there’s no sign of her.

  I lean out further, and that’s when the music starts. An old ’80s song I recognize from somewhere, playing in the alleyway below.

  “Hello?”

  I yank the window up and scramble onto the fire escape. I look down into the alley, and I swear, my
heart stops right there in my chest.

  It’s Blake.

  He’s standing beneath my window in a tux, with an old-fashioned boom-box held up over his head. And then I realize what the music is: “In Your Eyes” from that old movie Say Anything.

  He’s copying the scene for me right now, where John Cusack’s character waits under her bedroom window, blasting this same song to tell his love how he feels.

  My heart races. Our eyes lock. “What are you doing here?” I call down, my head spinning. Damn, he looks good, even better than my dreams, if it was possible. I fight to keep it together, battling the whirlwind of emotions raging in my heart. “Blake, you’re supposed to be at the premiere now. Everyone will be waiting for you!”

  “Let them wait,” Blake calls back. “I had to see you, Zoey. I have to show you how I feel.”

  He turns the volume up and holds the boombox high. “I remember, you watched this movie a dozen times,” he yells over the song blasting. “You said you always wanted someone to love you like that. Well, I do, Zoey. I’m here because I can’t do this without you. It doesn’t mean anything without you by my side.”

  Someone yanks their window up a couple of floors above me. “Will you shut that noise off!” an angry yell echoes.

  “Blake, please—”

  “Not until you talk to me,” he insists, turning the music even louder. “I’ll stand here all night, if that’s what it takes!”

  He smiles up at me, that movie star grin, and he’s right: this is like a scene from a movie. The moment when the hero comes to my window, and promises that everything’s going to be OK.

  Except this is real life, right here. I’m not sitting in the back row eating popcorn, there’s no director standing just out of sight. And big romantic gestures aren’t what my dreams are made of anymore: I know now that real love is something far deeper and more precious than saying the right line at the right time; all the costumes and lighting in the world can’t build me something solid, something real.

  My heart aches. He still doesn’t understand.

  I grab my keys and scramble down the fire escape ladder until I reach the alleyway below. I’m hit all over again with the sheer force of his presence. Blake, right in front of me, flesh and blood and a body I know by heart.

  I have to fight to keep from reaching for him, but I take a breath of air. “Forget about your props and soundtrack,” I tell him, sounding calmer than I feel. “I don’t need any of this. I just need you to be real with me.”

  He shuts off the music and slowly sets the boombox down. The charming grin fades, and in its place, a nervous smile. Our eyes meet, and God, I can feel the emotion igniting between us, a force almost too much to control.

  He takes a step towards me.

  “Blake,” I whisper, needing to be strong.

  “Zoey.” He lays a hand reverently against my cheek. The touch sends electricity racing through my body, the sweetest rush I’ve ever known.

  I clench my hands into fists at my sides. Be strong.

  “What are you doing here?” I whisper. “Blake… ”

  “I’m here for you,” he murmurs, moving closer. “I know I’ve hurt you, and I took you for granted. I was scared, and stupid, but losing you, it was the worst decision of my life. I’m been going crazy without you,” he says, anguish clear in his eyes. “I swear, if you give me another chance, I’ll never hurt you again.”

  His words wash over me, words I’ve fantasized about hearing every night since I walked away. But how can I be sure? How can I trust him after everything that’s happened?

  “But your career,” I say, torn. “There’s always going to be another movie, another co-star—”

  “But there’ll never be another you.” Blake cuts me off. He takes my hands, gripping them tightly. “We can make this work, I promise. I’m here now, for real. I won’t run again, I swear. I won’t ever leave you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, I was just too dumb and scared to see it before.” His blue eyes blaze into me, insistent. “I mean it, Zoey. This is all because of you. You push me to take risks, and fight for what I want. You make me believe in myself, believe I’m worth a damn.”

  “Blake—” I try to argue, but he cuts me off.

  “It’s you, Zoey. It’s all because of you. I’ve been so lucky to have you in my life, and I promise, I’ll never let you down again. I’ll spend the rest of my life showing you how much you mean to me.”

  He pauses, and I can see the nerves in his eyes. It’s a big step, him coming here for me, but the music, the scene: it’s still Blake playing a role he thinks I want from him. The leading man. The big final scene.

  But what happens after the credits roll, and we’re back in real life again? This isn’t a movie. This is my heart on the line.

  I step back. “I need time,” I manage to say, even though every cell in my body is calling out to him. “I have to think about it.”

  Blake’s face falls.

  “I didn’t say no,” I tell him quickly. “But this is a lot. You just showing up here, after all these months—”

  “I understand.” Blake recovers, then gives me a determined nod. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be here, any time you want. I won’t give up on us, Zoey. I promise you that. I’m going to show you.”

  He picks up his things and slowly walks away.

  I slump back against the wall.

  What did you just do? A part of me rages. He’s everything you want in the world! Go after him! Beg him to stay!

  But I force myself to turn around and climb back up the fire escape to my apartment. I stand there, in the middle of the silent room, and try to process the emotions whirling in my chest.

  I love him. I still do, even after everything. Distance and time has made no difference to that. But loving him doesn’t blind me to reality anymore. I know my love isn’t enough to make this relationship to work, I need him, too. I need him to be as crazy about this as I am; to be committed to weathering whatever storms his career throws between us. Because the only thing worse than losing him right now would be to love him with all my heart—and still have him holding back from me.

  The only thing worse than sleeping alone is to lie in the arms of someone who isn’t truly yours, body and soul.

  I feel tears coming, and try not to cry. Maybe he means this, I tell myself hopefully. Maybe he will fight for me, make this real at last—

  There’s a knock at my door. The takeout delivery, I remember, quickly wiping my face and going to unlock the door. “Just let me grab my wallet—” I say, swinging it open.

  Then I stop.

  Blake.

  He’s standing in the doorway, looking determined.

  “Blake…” My heart twists.

  “I know, you need time, and I’ll give it to you. But I forgot to say one thing.”

  He takes my hands, holding them so gently as his eyes meet mine.

  “I love you.”

  I pause, all my emotions rushing to the surface.

  “I love you,” Blake says again, and there’s none of his usual swagger in this smile. It’s raw and real and from the heart. “I’ve never loved anyone like this, Zoey, and I never will again. You’re my everything, and I swear, whatever it takes to prove myself to you, I’ll do it.”

  My heart pounds, but before I can say a word, he kisses me, pulling my body against his and capturing my lips in a fevered, desperate kiss. I couldn’t resist him if I tried. I melt into his arms, losing myself in the familiar taste of him, the rasp of his lips, and the heat as his tongue surges deep into my mouth, claiming me. Possessing me.

  It’s real.

  Everything I’ve been trying to forget, every sweet moment and hot, breathless night. Every time he was there for me, and every moment I ached to hold him. It all comes crashing around me, as Blake grips my body tight, locking me in the safety of his powerful embrace.

  He needs me. I can feel it in the passion of his kiss, the desperate way he clings
to me, trying so hard to express what words fail to convey.

  That this is everything. Him and I, together, right here. I fall into the moment, and know that no matter how hard I try, I could never find a love like this again.

  A man like Blake.

  Because he’s changed, I see it in the way he looks at me, and I feel it with every heartbeat of this kiss. The charming boy who swept me off my feet without even realizing it has become a man: raw, and wounded; hopeful, and brave. The old Blake would never have come here again, risked rejection and hurt by exposing his bruised and yearning heart. The man kissing me now was willing to take that risk, no matter what.

  He came back for me. He fought for me.

  He’s mine.

  I pull away, breathless and dizzy with the force of emotion.

  “Please, Zoey,” he begs me, but I cut him off with a kiss.

  “Yes,” I whisper. “I forgive you. I love you, Blake. I’m yours.”

  I’ll never forget the look in his eyes as what I’m saying breaks through. Nobody’s ever looked at me with such reverence, and I know, nobody ever will.

  “I love you,” he vows again, pulling me tightly against him. We stand there, I don’t know how long, just holding each other; feeling our hearts beat through our chests, so full of joy and love, I want to hold on to this moment forever.

  Then I realize. “Your premiere!” I exclaim, pulling away. “You’ll be late!”

  Blake pauses, looking nervous. “Will you come with me?” he asks. “I know it’s last-minute, but I really want you there with me.”

  “Yes!” I laugh. “Of course I’ll come. But I can’t go like this!” I look down at my jeans and T-shirt.

  “That’s OK.” Blake quickly pulls out his phone. “I’ll call my stylist. We can stop on the way, she’ll have something amazing, I’m sure.”

  My head spins. I remember to grab my purse and keys before following him out, and down to the front of the building, where a limo is waiting. The door opens, and Tegan’s face peers out.

  “Hurry up!” she yells. “God, anyone would think you were having a meaningful romantic reunion or something.”

  I let out a shriek, and pile into the car, smothering her in a hug. “I missed you!”