Unwritten (Page 36)

If anything is real anymore.

“That was a compliment,” Zoey adds, smiling.

“No, I was just thinking.” I shake my head. “I didn’t realize that was how you all saw me. And now what other people think of me matters more than ever,” I add, thinking of the screening coming up, and all the craziness still to come.

“The movie. Right.” Zoey shakes her head. “I don’t know how you do it, being the center of attention like that. All the cameras and people focused on you.” She grimaces.

I laugh. “That part’s fine, but there’s a whole lot of rejection too. You walk into an audition, and someone barely looks at you. They’re just like, ‘Next!’ And then agents and managers and publicists all wanting a piece of me too…” I trail off.

Damn, I know my head is all over the place this morning. She must think I’m a total mess.

But instead, Zoey gives me a mischievous smirk. “A piece of you, huh? Like this one?”

She grabs my hand and pretends to take a bite out of it. “Or maybe this one…” She drops a casual kiss on the inside of my wrist.

Heat surges through me.

“Possession is nine tenths of the law, right?” Zoey continues, twining her fingers through mine. “So they’re tough out of luck.”

She sounds so sure, so casual, like nothing about last night has affected her. I try to relax and play along.

I’ll set her straight back in town. There’s no point doing it now, with a whole trip ahead of us. Just for the journey, I’ll pretend this could be real. That she could be mine. I’ll give myself that much.

“We’ll have to update my resume,” I smile, squeezing her hand. “‘Available, one actor, minus his left hand.’”

She giggles. “I’m sure they can work around it. Doesn’t Tom Cruise insist on only being shot from one side?”

Her silly jokes break the ice. We chat easily for the rest of the drive; about her time in Paris, and my stories from the movie. I try to keep it casual and banish all the voices of doubt still spinning in my mind, savoring these last moments together, but too soon, she’s turning up the sandy beach road towards Dex’s place.

A tightness forms in my chest. Lead weight, dreading what’s to come.

“So…” she puts the car in park. “I guess I’ll see you on set today. Try not to let me distract you too much,” she adds with a smirk.

I brace myself. This is when I have to end this: give her that whole “we’re better as friends/it’s not you it’s me” brush-off. It’s the right thing to do, I know, but somehow everything in my body screams not to do it.

Zoey suddenly leans across and and kisses me, slow and sweet. She melts against me, her mouth easing open as our tongues find each other, savoring every moment.

Heat and lust and pure instinct take over until there’s no room for reason, no room for anything but her.

I pull back, trying to figure this out. A way to keep from moving too fast. A chance for her to have second thoughts. Because Lord knows if we dive straight in, I’ll never want to come up for air.

“Listen,” I start, “about being on set… Let’s just keep it quiet for now, OK?”

Zoey blinks. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” I try to explain. “It gets so high school sometimes, all the gossip. We don’t have to flaunt it.”

Maybe if I can keep this in a bubble, it will be contained. Controllable.

“Like a secret?” Zoey says slowly, still looking confused.

“Exactly, our sexy secret.” I try to charm her with a smile. “You don’t mind, right?”

“No, that sounds great,” Zoey smiles. “Who needs the attention?”

“I knew you’d understand.” I exhale in relief. “OK, now I really have to go. See you later!” I kiss her lightly, and then get out of the car, striding towards the house before I can take it back: kiss her so hard we’re both undone, march right into the town square and announce for everyone that this girl belongs to me now.

But I keep walking instead.

This will all be OK, I promise myself firmly. Zoey’s a cool girl, she’ll want to keep it casual. We’re just playing around, nobody’s making any promises or planning the rest of their lives. We can be light and fun, and not let this go too far.

So why does it feel like I’m a huge fucking liar?

14.

Zoey

“Quiet on the set!”

A week later, I brace myself as Dash’s yell echoes through the bedroom we’re using as a set. All eyes—and cameras—are focused on the bed in the corner: the sheets artfully rumpled, the light soft and romantic. Today, Blake and Lila are filming their big love scene together.

Naked.

OK, well maybe not naked. Lila has a skimpy slip on, and Blake is wearing a pair of briefs, but still. That doesn’t make it any less weird for me, watching the two of them together… His hands on her perfect body, her lips caressing his skin…

I knew the scene was coming, I read it in the script, but still, there’s a big difference between words on the page and watching it play out in front of me: a gorgeous, barely-dressed actress rolling around in bed with my boyfriend.

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—