Plot Twist(23)

“Only a little weird,” he finally said. Dash’s mouth quirked up, and he fought to suppress it.

“What do you want to do, if you’re not acting?”

He cracked his neck. He always felt like a loser when faced with this question. But this was Sophie, and for whatever reason, he trusted her not to judge him. “That’s the zillion-dollar question. My parents projected onto me what my life would be, so now I’m having to sort out who I am without their input. It’s harder than I thought. It probably sounds ridiculous to say. I’m thirty-six and should know what I’m doing, but I’m still figuring things out.”

“So am I.” Sophie smiled, and Dash was surprised by how grateful he was to see a kind of warm, understanding look cross her face. “It’s sometimes like everyone already got their membership to the Adulting Club, except me. I don’t know what I’m doing either. Don’t feel bad about it.”

And, for the first time since deciding he was done with acting, he really didn’t feel all that bad about it.

“What would you do, if you weren’t writing?” He shifted in the seat and pointed the air vent toward his face. His whole body had warmed from accidentally telling Sophie about his career change. He wasn’t used to opening up, and it made him sweat, literally.

“That’s just it,” Sophie said. “Writing is the only thing I truly want to do. It’s this big, wild dream my mom always wanted me to achieve. And getting a book published made me so happy because I knew she’d be deeply proud. Just knowing people read something I wrote lit this fire inside me. And I don’t know that there’s anything else in the world that would make me feel as fulfilled as writing does.”

“Then, that’s what you have to keep doing,” he said. “Don’t ever give up.”

Sophie was so quiet that all he heard was the whoosh of the wind around the car as they continued to drive. When he turned, she watched him, her expression appreciative. But he’d never done well with other people’s emotions, so he avoided her gaze and refocused on the road.

Only he couldn’t ignore how hard his heart raced as they flew down the highway together.

When they pulled off at the Ojai exit, Sophie looked out the window, and he saw what she saw—grand mountains set against a blue sky dotted with comically puffy white clouds. The place was idyllic and quaint. The air was warm, but also crisp with the smell of lavender coming from the slight breeze, and it made him relax instantly.

“I’m getting small-town vibes.” Dash spotted a billboard for the upcoming town parade and strawberry festival. “Is the town mayor a golden retriever?”

She laughed so loudly that it hummed in his ears and made him smile. He’d made her laugh.

“You’re thinking of Idyllwild, and they really do have a dog as the town mayor. But it’s still small here. You really couldn’t get away with much.” She instructed him to turn down a side street and smiled at something ahead of them. When he followed her gaze, he saw a vine-covered structure with a placard out front that read Bart’s Books.

“There she is,” Sophie said. “My mom and I used to come to this bookstore once a month and buy dollar romance novels. She always dreamed that I’d have a book in here someday.”

Dash pulled up to the curb and killed the engine. “It must be cool to go into a bookstore and know that you’re on the same level as all of these other amazing authors.”

“I don’t know if I’d say I’m on the same level.” She straightened her shoulders. “Sometimes walking into a bookstore makes me feel like an impostor—like I snuck on the ride without having to pay first. Maybe I shouldn’t be in any bookstores.”

“I read Whisked Away, you know.” He turned to her. Why hadn’t he told her this before? Well, he didn’t want to seem like he’d been spying on her, he supposed, or reveal that he most definitely had to take a shower after reading her particularly steamy sixty-nine scene.

“You did?” Her mouth hung open.

“Yeah, I had to see who I was renting to.” He took off his sunglasses. Sophie looked almost touched by the fact that he’d read her book when, really, reading her words had been nothing but pure joy. “I loved how you described the LA food scene. And the proposal at the end was really sweet.”

“Thanks, Dash.” A rosy flush rushed up her neck as she twisted the pinkie ring again.

Maybe he didn’t need to keep pumping her up, but making her smile was exhilarating, and he wanted more of that, so he added, “You’re a great writer, Soph. I’m glad you’re fighting for your dreams. Not everyone does.”

She held his gaze, and he felt trapped by the rich hazel of her eyes. He really had to stop noticing how they changed color depending on what they were focused on and how gold they appeared when she looked at him: that wasn’t going to do him any favors. He didn’t so much as blink as he stared back, certain that time had slowed. It was then that he realized he really, really liked her. If this were one of his movies, the music would swell, he’d lean across the armrest, gently weave his fingers through her hair, grasp the back of her neck and move toward her lips—

Her phone pinged with a new text, which made her look away and sever their connection.

Dash blinked rapidly and shook his head. He’d had a full-on fantasy sequence going on, and if he didn’t keep his feelings in check, he’d do something neither of them could take back.