Love at 11 - By Mari Mancusi Page 0,45

fire of its own, I actually felt increasingly lazy and content to sit there in that spot, next to Jamie, all night. My mind wandered as I stared into the fire, assessing all my problems—family, work, etc.—and deeming them all inconsequential. None of it mattered. And in the end, I realized, my life was wonderful. I had so much. I’d been blessed. There were thousands of poor, starving people out there, and here I was obsessing about my pain-in-the-ass family and job that, while it could be annoying as all hell, also kept me well above the poverty level.

Truly, everything would be fine.

Gentle hands gripped my shoulder and I turned from my fire gazing. Jamie smiled and began to massage my back.

“Does that feel good?” he asked. His face was flushed and his pupils dilated. Evidently the drug had kicked in for him, too.

“Mmm, yes,” I moaned in pleasure. A thousand different tingling feelings echoed through my every nerve at his touch. But it wasn’t sexual this time. Just a warm and fuzzy feeling. He was just trying to keep me relaxed and not panicked until the drug wore off. Nice of him, really. I squirmed closer so I was leaning against his chest. Cozy. Comfortable. Warm. What a nice guy. A really, really nice guy.

“Good,” he said, continuing to knead my back. “I’m glad you’re okay. I was worried about you for a minute there.”

“I appreciate that. But I’m fine, really. In fact, I can’t remember a time I’ve felt so relaxed.”

“It’s been a while for me, too. I mean, I’ve been so stressed out. With the moving, switching jobs, planning a wedding …”

Ugh. He had to bring that up, didn’t he? Major buzz-kill. But we were friends, I reminded myself. Friends should be able to talk about anything with each other. And I liked the fact he felt comfortable doing so. “How’s the wedding planning going?” I, Maddy Madison, friend extraordinaire, asked.

He groaned. “I try to stay out of it as much as possible. When I first proposed, all I had in mind was a simple ceremony—maybe on the beach at sunset with a few friends. She’s made it into the social event of the season.” His hands traveled to my hair, dragging his fingers down my scalp, which made for more tingling feelings. I loved head massages, especially in my skin’s hypersensitive state.

“Well, I’m sure it will be very nice.”

“What it’ll be is a chance for Jennifer to show off to all of her stuck-up Hollywood friends. In fact, I bet she wouldn’t even notice if I didn’t show up.”

Hmm. Interesting. “You sound bitter.”

“Maybe I am, a little.”

Ecstasy hit different people in different ways, I realized. While I was content to simply sit back and soak everything in, Jamie’s drug experience was prompting him to open up. To talk. Which was fine with me. I didn’t mind hearing about trouble in Jamie and Jen paradise.

“When I first met Jen, she and I were as close as a couple could be. She wanted to pursue an acting career, and I completely supported her. But now that she’s landed a few roles, got invited to a few key Hollywood parties, she wants more. It’s like an addiction to fame. She doesn’t want to go out for a quiet meal. She wants to ‘see and be seen.’ She doesn’t want to drive up the coast to watch the sunset. She wants to go dancing at the Viper Room.”

I yelped as his fingers caught a snarl.

“Sorry,” he said, patting my head. “It just gets me so angry. Sometimes I don’t even know why she’s marrying me. I’m not even her type.”

“No?” I turned to face him. He looked so sad. Like a lost boy. I wanted to comfort him. To hold him close and tell him everything was going to be okay. I tried to tell myself those urges were coming from my drug-enhanced state, but I knew better.

“Not at all. I’ve told you before that I don’t buy into the whole Hollywood scene. I don’t like going to parties. I don’t care which celebrity was spotted at which restaurant, and I don’t care about going there once they were to see if they return.” He scrubbed his face with his hands. “And now that I’ve had to shelve my film-making career, I’m not even someone she wants to show off to her friends. At least at one time I was quote ‘cool.’ Someone she was proud of.”

I fought back an