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“We need to talk,” I say, sliding up the bed to rest my back along his headboard.
“Are you okay?” He pulls himself up and runs a hand through his dark hair, yawning.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” I run my hand down his arm, entwining my hand in his. “Why did your mom call?”
He blinks a few times. I’ve caught him off guard.
“What time is it?” he asks, glancing at the clock on his nightstand.
My gaze falls on it as well.
“Two thirty in the morning? Seriously, can’t this wait until the morning?”
“You know it can’t. You didn’t return any of my texts today.” I tighten my grip.
“I was busy on set.” He yawns again.
“Just tell me why your mom called.”
He’s stalling, which is a horrible sign. He’s hiding something, I know it.
“Are you fucked up right now?” he asks, swinging his legs around so his feet reach the floor at the side of his bed, disengaging from my hand.
“Just answer the damn question!” I say with more force.
Jimmy walks over to me and places his hands on my shoulders. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I was drunk.”
“You can’t do that. You can’t expect me to act like you didn’t say it.” I stare him in the eyes, willing him to tell me and not leave me in the dark.
He blows out a breath and drops his hands from my shoulders. “Maybe we should talk about this when you haven’t been railing coke all night.” He brushes by me and out into the hall toward the kitchen.
I have no argument, because if he’s clued into my earlier activities tonight, there’s no point in lying.
“Stop changing the subject. What’s going on?” I stomp down the hallway, my sympathy over what the call did to him turns to anger over him treating me like a porcelain doll.
By the time I reach the kitchen, he’s got a glass of water in his hand. I take the glass to kick away his distraction technique, but it slips from my fingers right before I can set it on the counter. The glass smashes on the hardwood, shattering into pieces and water puddles.
“For fuck’s sake, Lilah!” Jimmy screams.
It’s the first time he’s yelled at me in a long time. Jimmy doesn’t lose his patience with me. He’s the most patient person I know, which means whatever is going on with his mom is bad.
Tears form in my eyes staring at the broken glass. I turn to head to the laundry room to get a broom to clean up the mess, but his hand wraps around my upper arm, stopping me.
“Be careful. Don’t cut yourself.”
I nod and slowly step backward, investigating the area I walk to make sure I don’t step on any jagged glass. Once I’ve made it into the safe zone, I meet Jimmy’s gaze.
He still stands near the island.
“Go have a shower and clean yourself up. I’m gonna clean this up, then we’ll talk.” The resigned tone in his voice says he’s accepted that he’ll have to share with me whatever is going on.
I nod slowly, my lips pressed together. I head down the hall to my room, not ready to hear what Jimmy has to say but knowing I have to.
* * *
I dryoff and put on my grey cotton sleep shorts and tank top and exit the bathroom to find Jimmy sitting in the chair in the corner of my room, staring straight ahead. I sit on the edge of the bed across from him, waiting for him to tell me.
His chin tips up and his sorrow-filled eyes meet mine. He doesn’t want to tell me, and I fear I’m hurting him by forcing him to do so, but he cannot handle this news on his own. I don’t break eye contact because I want to show him I’m strong enough. Strong enough to help him through this. God knows he’s helped me through enough shit.
