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From his scrunched-up forehead, I’d say he’s not sure if I’m referring to the drugs now or something more. Does it really matter?
“I did that for you. I had no choice.” His hands clench into fists at his sides and the artery in his neck throbs. For the first time, I might have pushed him too far.
Regret douses the fire raging inside me. “Jimmy—”
“Thanks for a great fucking birthday.” He pushes off the sand and walks toward the parking lot.
I want to chase him and apologize.
I’m trying to make him understand.
I didn’t mean those things, but he cornered me. What did he expect me to do? Admit that I might have a problem and he’s not enough for me to stop using? That would hurt him more.
* * *
We ride backto his place in silence, and though I wish there wasn’t a house full of people waiting, it’s the most accessible way to tie one on and forget all this shit.
We’ll make up. We always do. But I can’t deny I’m a little scared. This fight felt different. He openly called me an addict and I blamed him for my being one.
Jimmy pulls into his driveway, slams on the brakes, and exits the vehicle without a word. I follow him, happy to see that even after everything else went wrong, at least the partygoers manage to pull off the surprise.
He unlocks and whips open the door while I’m still ten paces behind. Instead of witnessing it, I hear “Surprise” yelled.
He stops in his tracks, turning to look at me, a half scowl marring his handsome face. “Did you know about this?”
“I planned it.”
I step past him without another word and head straight to the kitchen to pour myself a giant tumbler of the first bottle I see. Jimmy gets caught up saying hello and accepting congratulations from his friends.
I pour whiskey into one of the glasses and sit on the kitchen island stool. I slide a hand into my purse and pull a pill from the inside pocket, then I toss it to the back of my throat and chase it with whiskey.
I sense someone’s eyes on me and glance to my right to find Jimmy’s coworker, Adelaide, watching me. I hold her gaze for a moment, adding no friendliness to my own, until she looks away.
Jimmy hugs her, and she wishes him a happy birthday. He smiles and shoots her his Jimmy smile. Not one of his practiced, James-red-carpet ones. They must be getting chummy.
I pour more whiskey and chug it, relishing the burn as the alcohol slides down my throat into my stomach.
Might as well enjoy the party.
Chapter Twenty-one
JIMMY
Itake a hit off the joint and pass it back to Tripp in the lounger next to me by the pool. My birthday party has been in full swing for a few hours now. Everyone is having a blast, especially Lilah. She’s the life of the party. She always is, with a little help from her best friends—alcohol and drugs.
I’ve only seen her drinking tonight, but I’m not naïve enough to think she isn’t on something. Lately, I see her on something more than sober. Downers, uppers, party drugs… whatever. She’s not particular. Anything to alter her natural state.
“You want some more, man?” Tripp holds the joint out in front of me.
“Nah, I’m good.”
I’m hoping the joint will mellow me. My anger with Lilah from our conversation at the pier isn’t fading and we’re not done discussing us, but it’s none of these people’s business. My breaking point is close, I’m ready to blow, but still… she’s Lilah.
Lilah steps out of the sliding glass doors, heading to the other side of the deck with a group of people.
“You wouldn’t mind if I asked Adelaide out then?” he asks.
“Knock yourself out. But I don’t want to be in the middle of any lovers’ quarrel and I don’t want it to affect me on set, so don’t fuck her over.”
