Unwritten (Page 67)

“How’s it going?” I ask, sympathetic. Sophie’s in grad school, and her workload is crazy.

“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.”