Unwritten (Page 50)

I can’t believe it.

“So, you’ll finish?” Dash looks anxious. “We’re on a real deadline here.”

“Yes!” I exclaim quickly, grabbing the laptop. “Whatever you need!”

“Awesome.” Dash exhales in relief. “I’ll tell Kira not to bother you with anything. We’ll finish up this scene with the actors, then start fresh tomorrow. You’re a lifesaver!” he adds, suddenly landing a kiss on my cheek before heading for the door. “Now write!”

20.

“Wake up, birthday girl.”

The sound of knocking slips through my sleep. I hear Blake calling me from far away, but I yawn, snuggling deeper under the covers.

Early. Too early. More sleep.

“C’mon Zoey! Don’t you want your birthday surprise?”

I roll over, groaning, as Blake saunters in. He takes one look at me and laughs. “Oh man, how late were you up with those rewrites?”

“I don’t know.” I haul myself into a sitting position, squinting as he pulls back the curtains. “Three, four a.m., maybe?” I yawn again, “But Dash needed them first thing, and I didn’t want to stop.”

I worked late into the night on the page revisions, trying to make them perfect. I can’t believe Dash has given me a chance to actually write something for the movie, and even though it’s just a few pages rewriting the scene that’s already on the page, I want it to be perfect.

Blake sits beside me on the bed and leans over to kiss me. “Happy birthday,” he tells me. “Tegan sent me to come get you for your first birthday surprise.”

I cringe. “You promised you wouldn’t let her go crazy,” I remind him.

Blake smiles. “Cross my heart.” He mimes the action on his chest. “It’s just a birthday breakfast with everyone at the diner. She invited Brit and Hunter too, so remember to act surprised.”

“I will.” I exhale in relief. A fun breakfast is definitely something I can handle—especially if there are chocolate-chip pancakes as part of the deal. “OK, let me jump in the shower, I won’t be a minute.”

I scramble out of bed, but Blake catches me before I reach the bathroom. He wraps his arms tight around me. “Make that ten,” he says, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief as his hands slip below my old T-shirt. “I’m definitely going to need ten minutes for my first gift…”

In the end, it takes twenty minutes before the water in the shower runs cold and we finally drag ourselves to the diner, breathless and happy. I step through the doors to find Tegan and Ryland waiting in a back booth with Dex. There are balloons strung up around the table, and a bouquet of flowers too.

It feels like family.

I swallow back the lump in my throat. “Hey guys!” I recover, going to join them. “I can’t believe you did all of this, it’s so sweet!”

“I won’t ask why you’re late.” Tegan greets me with a hug. “You’ve got that glowy sex haze all over you.”

I blush. “We were, um, waylaid by Mrs. Olsen.”

“What’s that, sweetheart?”

I turn. The lady herself is approaching with a huge platter of pancakes and food.

Blake leans in. “Busted,” he whispers.

I blush harder.

“Happy birthday,” Mrs.Olsen tells me, smiling. “I had them add a little extra chocolate, just for you.”

“Thank you! This looks amazing,” I say, quickly changing the subject away from just what Blake and I were doing with the detachable shower head. I take in the huge spread of food and feel my mouth start to water. “Thanks for ordering for us, I’m starving, I was up all night on the rewrites,” I babble, sliding into the booth and reaching for my fork.

“Blake told us about your new gig,” Dex says, raising his glass of OJ in a toast. “That’s awesome.”

“Next stop, the Oscars,” Ryland agrees, passing around the pancakes.

I laugh. “Not anytime soon, but maybe one day. I’d love to take some screenwriting classes, back in LA. Learn more about it all.”

“That’s a great idea,” Blake says, squeezing in beside me. He drapes his arm around my shoulder so I’m snug against his solid muscles. “Does this mean you’re moving to LA once filming ends here?”

I tilt my head up to look at him. “Maybe.”

“Maybe,” he echoes, teasing. “Is this you playing hard to get?”

“A girl’s got to keep her options open,” I say lightly. “You know me, international jet-setter.” I’m playing it cool, but inside I’m beaming. Me moving out there with him is a whole different conversation I’m not ready to have just yet, but Blake isn’t running screaming for the hills at the idea, at least.

“Enough Hollywood talk,” Tegan tuts, pulling my attention back to the table. “What are your three?”

“Her three?” Blake repeats, looking puzzled.

Dex laughs. “Remember, they do this every year,” he explains, pouring another cup of coffee. “They have to say three things they’re proud of from the year that’s passed, and three things they want to do in the year ahead. I don’t even remember when you guys started it.”

“In school,” I smile, remembering. “We had an English teacher who was big on goals and lists.”

“So, come on,” Tegan urges me.