Did I Mention I Love You? (Did I Mention I Love You (DIMILY) Book 1)

Did I Mention I Love You: Chapter 10



When the weekend rolls around and marks the end of my first week in Los Angeles, I finally get another chance to call my mom during a break in her hectic work schedule. She’s working full-time, including night shifts and overtime, as a nurse at Providence Portland Medical Center, trying her hardest to support us both on a single income. Although Dad’s payments help, it’s still a struggle for her.

“Hey, Eden,” Mom murmurs into the phone just before it goes to voicemail. “How are you, honey?”

“You sound tired.” I frown. It’s horrible knowing the pressure she’s under yet being unable to do anything to make the situation better. “How long was your shift?”

“Twelve hours,” she says quietly, but quickly continues before I can say anything. “A patient brought in her guide dog today and it was the cutest thing I’ve seen since you were a baby. It kept the kids in the waiting room entertained. I almost felt heartbroken when it left. So I was thinking that when you come home, we should totally get a dog. It’ll keep me company when you go off to college next year. What do you think?”

I smile at her childlike enthusiasm. “Okay, we can get a dog. German Shepherds are gorgeous.”

“Are those the intimidating ones?”

“Yes.”

She pauses for a long moment. “I’ll start looking.” When I laugh, so does she, and then I hear her yawn across the line. “Have you settled in yet or is it still awkward?”

“Still awkward,” I say. “I’m waiting for Dad to have an actual conversation with me, but it doesn’t look like that’s going to happen anytime soon.”

“Douchebag Dave,” Mom murmurs away from the phone, but I hear her anyway. “I wish you weren’t stuck there with him. I honestly feel so bad for you. You know you didn’t have to go.”

“It’s actually not that bad,” I say. I shrug even though she can’t see me, but I really wish she could. It’s hard without her, hard having to be stuck an entire state away from the only person who’s been there for me for all my life, hard having to resort to phone calls every couple days because it’s the closest I can get to her. “There’s this group of friends who I’m hanging out with. They’re all really nice except for one.”

“Which one?”

“The one that’s my stepbrother,” I say, and then laugh, because it’s really absurd that the one person I dislike is the one I’m supposed to not dislike. “What are you doing tonight?”

“Ordering myself a bucket of fried chicken to enjoy while I spend my Saturday evening alone on the couch watching whatever crap comes on, because I’m in my late thirties and I’m already divorced and I work long hours and I look very unattractive,” she kids, her voice light before she falters. “I miss you. I hope you’re having fun and I hope you’re behaving.”

My chest feels heavy. I feel bad for leaving her alone. “When I come home we’re going to get that dog and we’re going to watch Pretty Little Liars together and we’re going to order all the fried chicken you want. You only have seven weeks to wait.”

“That’s a hell of a long wait, Eden Olivia.”

I smile to myself. “Try not to miss me too much and it’ll go faster.”

“Okay,” she says. “I’ll try not to miss my only daughter while you go and enjoy your weekend. Talk to you soon, baby.” She hangs up the call while she yawns for a second time, and then the line falls into an endless, echoing silence.

Mom deserves so much better than the life she has.

“Who were you talking to?” a male voice demands as my bedroom door swings open.

My heart almost stops and, quite clearly startled, I flash my eyes up to the intruder of my personal space. It’s Tyler, eyes narrowed, as per usual. “Did I say you could come in?”

“Who were you talking to?” he asks once more, firmer this time. “You got a boyfriend back in Portland or some shit?”

I stare at him, willing myself not to burst into laughter as he stares evenly back at me with his lips in a firm line. “Were you eavesdropping?”

“My room is right next door,” he says, stating the obvious. “The walls are thin as hell.”

I pull a face as I get to my feet. “Okay, well, I was talking to my mom.” His features relax and I glance at the clock on the wall by the door. It’s almost 8PM. “Shouldn’t you be out doing something?”

“That’s actually what I gotta talk to you about,” he murmurs. Taking a deep breath, he shuts my door and wanders into the middle of the room. I raise my eyebrows at him. “You’re not doing anything tonight, right?”

“No,” I say. “Everyone’s busy.” Rachael is in Glendale for a few days visiting her grandparents, Meghan has the flu, and Tiffani spends every third weekend with her dad, who doesn’t let her make plans that don’t involve him.

“Alright, you’re coming with me,” Tyler states. “Party down on 11th Street. Don’t mention it to your dad.” He turns to leave, but I call him back.

“Who says I want to go to a party with you?” I cross my arms across my chest. Just this morning he was yelling at me for blocking the staircase. “Sorry, but you’re sort of the last person I want to hang out with.”

He grits his teeth. “Get ready.”

“No.”

“Yes,” he says. “What else are you gonna do? Sit here all night in your room like a damn loser with no social life?”

I press my lips together. He has a point. Sort of. “What will I wear?”

Immediately a triumphant smile crosses his face and his eyes light up. “Anything. It’s not the same kinda party as Austin’s. This one’s more . . . chill. You could turn up in a pair of sweats and you wouldn’t be out of place.”

“Chill?” I arch a brow again. A bunch of ideas float around my mind.

“Yeah,” he says. “Are you up for some predrinks while you’re getting ready? My stash is running a little low, because Mom’s constantly searching my room, so all I got is beer and some Jack and a little vodka. You know what, I’ll surprise you.” He smiles. And it’s a genuine smile, not a sarcastic one and not a smirk, without a single trace of egoism.

He heads back through to his own room, leaving me baffled. For someone who hates me so much, he seems pretty persistent that I attend this “chilled” party with him. But as long as he isn’t muttering insults at me or shooting death glares in my direction every so often, I don’t mind. And if accompanying him is what it takes to get on his good side, then so be it. I like the softer side of him he’s briefly shown me and I hope he’ll remain in a good mood for the night, because I think I might just find him less annoying and more likeable if he does. It’s a chance I’m willing to take.

Thankfully, I’ve already showered. Mid-afternoon, I got so bored that I resorted to watching hair tutorials on YouTube and trying to follow along, only to be greatly disappointed when my results looked nothing like all those British beauty gurus promised me. Eventually I found one that worked, so my hair has been in a cute messy updo for the entire night, so I consider it done and ready to go.

“I’ll probably be ready in twenty minutes,” I tell Tyler when he waltzes into my room, two drinks in his hands, one a bottle of Bud Light, the other a glass of what appears to be Coke.

“No problem,” he says as he hands me the glass, his cold fingers brushing mine. I flinch at his touch, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “Here.”

“Vodka and Coke?” I guess.

“Yeah,” he says, almost sheepishly, as he pops off the cap of his beer on the edge of my dresser. “Always a safe bet. You like it, right? If you want beer, I can get you some—”

“This is fine,” I gently cut in. He’s rambling a little. “I like it.”

“Okay, good,” he mumbles. Tilting his head back, he takes a long swig of his beer and then glances around my room. “Just, uh, come get me when you’re ready.”

“Are you guys drinking?”

Both my head and Tyler’s snap over to my open door to find Jamie staring back at us, his expression glum as his eyes run over the drinks in our hands. Tyler tries to hide his behind his back, but he’s fifteen seconds too late.

“No,” he lies as keeps the bottle out of view, despite how pointless it is. His tone is gentle. “You know we’re not twenty-one. Why would we be drinking?”

“I can see it right there,” Jamie points out, and he nods his head at the glass I’m still holding. “Does Mom know?”

Tyler places a hand on the back of his neck as he strains it to one side. “It’s only a little. Can you give us some space?”

“Twenty bucks,” Jamie says, but there’s a mischievous grin playing on his lips as he holds out his hand. He blinks at Tyler with an expectant look in his eyes.

“I gave you thirty the other day,” Tyler claims. Nonetheless, he places his beer on my dresser and reaches into the back pocket of his jeans to pull out his wallet. “Because you wanted that video game, remember? Don’t think that I forgot, because I haven’t.”

“Hmm.” Jamie thinks for a moment. “I’ll take ten then.”

Tyler’s laughing. It makes me wonder if they do this a lot: Tyler buying Jamie’s silence. “Fine, ten.” He passes Jamie a ten-dollar bill and then gently pushes his head away with the quick flick of his wrist. “Now get outta here.”

Jamie brushes Tyler’s hand away. Stuffing the bill into his pocket, he quickly darts across the hall and back into his own room, calling, “I would have taken five.”

Tyler chuckles and reaches for his beer to take a long swig. He swallows it with a sigh. “Kid treats me like an ATM.” He turns his smile on me and then edges out onto the landing. “Get ready,” he says.

I close the door after him and then drift into my bathroom. After freshening up and applying a not-too-heavy layer of makeup, I pull on a pair of skinny jeans and a tank top with a red hoodie thrown over my shoulders. After all, Tyler implied I would be out of place if I made too much effort, so I’m relieved that I can wear Converse this time rather than heels.

“Okay,” I say as I enter his room. “I’m ready and my drink is finished, so we can go now.”

Tyler’s wearing jeans and a faded gray T-shirt. He’s standing by the window, lining up three empty beer bottles on the ledge, and he glances over his shoulder at me. “It’s about damn time.” All at once he knocks them over and then makes straight for me, pulling out his car keys from his pocket.

“What are you doing?” I shake my head in disapproval, and I almost reach over to grab them from him, but I stop myself. “You’ve just drunk all those beers.”

“Jesus,” he says. “Fine, I’ll get us a ride. Happy?”

“Yes,” I say as he tosses the keys onto his bed.

He pulls out his phone and calls someone so quickly that they must be on speed dial. The person on the other end of the line answers almost immediately, and I watch Tyler’s face while he talks. “Yeah, yeah, I’m just coming, Declan. Who’s driving tonight?” Pause. “Give me Kaleb. Can you ask him to get over to my place as fast as he can? Couple doors down, actually.” Pause. “Thanks, man. See you in twenty.”

“Kaleb?” I ask once he ends the call.

“Kaleb’s alright,” he says, and then laughs a little as he shifts over to his bedroom door. “He’s in college, but he still looks like a high school sophomore. He knows how to have a good time, though.” Pushing open the door, he stealthily edges his way out onto the landing and then down the staircase, with me creeping along behind him. We make our way into the kitchen before slipping out through the patio doors.

“Shouldn’t I have told my dad I was going out?” I ask, following Tyler around to the front of the house. “I mean, I get that you need to sneak out, but I’m not on lockdown. He’s going to kill me when he realizes I’ve left without telling him.”

“Don’t get worked up about it,” he tells me. “Just drink a lot and in a couple hours you won’t care.”

Purposely staying away from the living room window, we head down the street, almost six doors down, and then hover on the parking strip. Although Tyler may be dumb in too many ways to count, he’s smart enough to know how not to get caught. If I’d been doing this on my own, I would have most definitely been stupid enough to get picked up right outside the house, which is also right in front of Dad and Ella. So I have to give him props.

“Is it a big party?” I ask, looking up at him as he leans against the trunk of a tree.

“Not too big,” he says with a shrug, but then he starts chewing his lower lip as though he’s nervous, and I figure he doesn’t want to talk to me. This annoys me, because we end up standing in silence for five minutes until a Chevy truck loudly pulls up next to us.

The window rolls down and a small guy leans forward and yells, “Get in, bro!” but all I can do is stare at him. Tyler’s right. Kaleb looks like a kid, like his features have yet to fully develop, and I can’t possibly imagine him walking around a college campus.

Tyler steps past and pulls open the passenger door while I force my body up and into the backseat of the beat-up truck. It stinks of tobacco smoke inside and there’s a stack of McDonald’s cups littering the floor.

“Who’s this?” Kaleb asks as he studies me in the rearview mirror. He’s extremely pale, with short, dirty-blond hair.

“My, um . . .” Tyler starts, but for some reason he struggles to get the words out. He leans forward to increase the volume of the rap music that Kaleb’s playing. “My stepsister,” he finally says.

“Didn’t know you had one.” Kaleb looks at me even harder in the mirror. It makes me feel uncomfortable, but finally he looks away and puts the truck back in drive. He doesn’t wait for Tyler to reply before he moves on to another question, thankfully changing the subject. “So how’ve you been, dude? Feels like I haven’t spoken to you in weeks!”

Because Kaleb is a stranger to me, I keep out of the conversation (I don’t think they want me in it, anyway) and allow them to talk away to each other for the ten-minute journey to the party. Tyler keeps thanking him for the ride, and Kaleb keeps saying it’s no problem, and then they keep nodding their heads to the awful music.

All the while, I stare at the lyrics on my shoes.

When we finally arrive at the party and pull up to a stop outside the small house, it’s a completely different scene from that of Austin’s party a week ago. There’s no one in sight. It doesn’t look like a party at all.

“Are you sure this is the right house?” I ask the second I slide out of the truck and Kaleb locks up.

“Yeah,” Tyler says, nodding to the door as he starts walking toward it. “Remember it’s a smaller party. Twenty people, max.”

A small party means it won’t be so easy to just blend in, to linger in the background and pray that no one notices the stranger in the room. I’ll stick out. People will realize that they’ve never seen me before. And I’ll hate every moment of it.

The second Tyler swings open the front door, I’m deafened by horrendous house music. The beat drops drill into my ears and I can feel them giving me brain damage. The place reeks of weed too. Nonetheless, the party is much less crowded and I don’t feel like I’m suffocating as I trail after Tyler into a room that has been set up to store all the alcohol. Kaleb doesn’t follow.

“Tyler, you made it,” a guy says when we walk in. Surprisingly, he looks totally sober. “Who’s this?”

“My stepsister. Eden, this is Declan. She’s hanging with me for the night if that’s alright with you.”

“Woah.” Declan’s blue eyes widen as he passes Tyler a can of beer. “Dude, when the hell did ya get a stepsister?”

“Last week, bro,” he murmurs, but quickly turns to smile at me. “What do you want?”

“Anything,” I say, running my eyes over the table. “Actually, I’ll just take another Coke and vodka.”

Tyler rolls his eyes as he grabs a cup, makes up the drink, and then hands it to me. All the while, Declan watches us. “I’ll show her around,” Tyler tells him, and then he places his hand on my shoulder and directs me toward the door. He nudges me back out into the hall, but he doesn’t join me. Instead he quickly turns to Declan and pulls him over to the corner of the room.

I watch as Tyler murmurs something to him, to which Declan nods in reply. Their voices are so low that it’s impossible for me to hear, but Tyler heaves a sigh and finds his way back over to me, stepping out into the hall by my side. Several people greet him as they pass, but he keeps his attention mainly on me. “Alright, you see these people?” We stop by the door to the living room, and he uses his beer can to motion toward the group of people lounging on the couches. They all look deflated, and many of them appear to be in their twenties.

“Yeah?” I don’t see where he’s going with this. “They look bored.”

Tyler stifles a laugh and turns away from the door. “They’re far from bored. Hey, check out this guy.” He points his can to the floor, and down by the hall table, a small orange and white cat is cowering. “Aw, man.” Laying his beer down, he bends and scoops the cat up into his arms, ruffling the fur on the back of its neck. “Why not date this little guy? It’s probably got bigger balls than Jake.”

“Put it down,” I say forcefully, but the cat seems to be enjoying the attention, because it begins to playfully climb up Tyler’s arms.

“What can I say?” he says as he rubs its ears, and it purrs in satisfaction. I can feel my lips twitching into a smile as I watch them. “I’m a pussy magnet.”

I pull a face and turn away from him, but he laughs, places the animal back down on the ground and switches it for his beer. It darts off into another room. “Look, even that cat has had enough of your bullshit.”

Tyler rolls his eyes, but his smirk soon fades. “Go talk to some people. I’m heading out back for a while.”

Heading out back? I know that reference. I know what’s out back. I know what he’s up to. Immediately my mood changes. “Are you kidding me?”

He stares back, his expression nonchalant, and he takes a swig of his beer. “Huh?”

“Don’t act stupid,” I hiss as I step closer to him, leaning in so he can hear me, my drink almost crushed against his chest. “I didn’t come with you to this bullshit party so that you could just leave me by myself while you stand around in the back yard smoking joints and making pretty little coke lines to snort.”

“It’s none of your business,” he shoots back, stepping away from me. “Go make some friends and leave me to do whatever the hell I want.”

He tries to head off down the hall, but I follow close on his heels and quite literally shove my body between him and the back door when we reach it. “You’re not going out there. It’s so stupid.”

All of a sudden, a wave of fury comes over him and he slams his beer into the wall, crushing the entire can against the plaster as the liquid inside showers to the floor. “Get out of my fucking way.”

“No!”

He lurches forward, wrapping his long fingers around my wrist and squeezing it tightly, almost numbing my entire arm. His body is so close to mine, and his eyes are so fierce that I find myself shrinking beneath their force. “Eden,” he whispers slowly. “Don’t.”

“No,” I object once more, shaking off his grasp. I will myself not to back down despite the crushed beer can and my numb wrist. “Why do you do it?”

“Because I need to, okay?” he almost yells, and he quickly glances around to ensure no one is listening.

“You don’t need to,” I say. “You want to.”

For a long moment, he just stares at me in silence. It’s like he’s wondering what to do next, what to say, how to get around me. And then he shakes his head, runs a damp hand through his hair, and breathes, “You don’t get it.”

I want to ask him what it is that I don’t get, but he gently shoves me to the side and wrenches open the door. He slips out, slamming it shut behind him. I’m furious, and if I hadn’t been humiliated the last time I went outside and interrupted him, then perhaps I would do it again. But I know it’s pointless to go out there, so I storm back through to the front of the house and take a moment to think about what I’m going to do.

“Eden? What the hell are you doing here?”

I spin around in the direction of the voice, and I am utterly stunned and completely grateful to find Jake standing behind me, his lips parted as he stares at me. “Jake! I came with Tyler but he’s . . . Well, he’s pissing me off.”

“Eden . . .” He places a hand to his forehead and steps closer to me, leaning in by my ear as he lowers his voice. “You know this is a stoner party, right?”

“A what?” I blurt, and he tells me with his eyes that I need to shut up, so I bite my lip.

“Look around you, Eden,” he whispers, his breath hot on my skin. “Everyone’s high.”

My eyes slowly drift around the hall, to the open door of the living room. Tyler was right. These people aren’t bored. Their eyes are all bloodshot and dilated, half of them staring at the ceiling while the rest laugh hysterically. The longer I watch them, the more it becomes obvious. A stoner party. Tyler really brought me to a damn stoner party.

“What are you doing here then?” I demand, folding my arms in disgust.

“Friend of mine needed a ride home,” Jake explains, narrowing his eyes as he searches our surroundings. “I came to get him but looks like he already got his ass outta here. Which is something you should really do. Eden, these aren’t the kind of people you want to hang out with.”

“Please get me out of here,” I whisper, my eyes wide. “I can’t believe he brought me here.”

“He’s an asshole, that’s why.”

Funny. Tyler said the exact same thing about him. It’s their word against each other’s, and it’s up to me to choose whose side I’m going to be on. And right now, it’s Jake’s. Because if I had to decide which one of them was the asshole, I would have to point to my stepbrother.


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