Did I Mention I Love You? (The DIMILY Trilogy #1)

“Baby, you look fine,” he slurs. He takes one final swig from the beer in his hand before setting it down on the dresser and stepping forward. “Real hot.” He clasps her waist and pulls her body toward him. And as though there aren’t three other people in the room, he rams his lips against hers in a way that looks almost painful, one hand grazing her ass and the other pressing against the small of her back. She doesn’t pull away.

I throw Rachael a disgusted glance and she rolls her eyes. All I can hear is that horrendous smacking sound again. Tyler and Tiffani: the world’s worst couple when it comes to PDA. “Are they always like this?” I mutter in a hushed voice, because interrupting their intimate moment for a second time isn’t exactly something I want to do.

Rachael just shakes her head. I think it’s in commiseration. “All the time.”

I glance back over to the pair. They don’t seem to be stopping anytime soon, even when Meghan nudges them to the side so that she can step out into the hall. You’d think they hadn’t seen each other in three years. They’re that engaged in one another.

And so Tyler may be irritating, and Tiffani may be obliviously rude, and I may be chubby. But at least my dress isn’t as clingy as those two.





Chapter 6


Just after 8:00 p.m., Meghan takes us all over to this party that I’m dreading beyond words. I’m dreading it so much I wish I’d gone out to the family meal with Dad and Ella. Surely forcing overpriced food down my throat would be better than the bitter taste of cheap liquor.

We pile into the silver Toyota Corolla as the darkness begins to filter through the setting sun in such a beautiful way that I find myself gazing down the street toward the horizon before Rachael calls shotgun and nudges me to the side. I unwillingly get in the backseat with Tyler seated in the middle between Tiffani and me, beer in his lap and vodka by my feet. There’s an overwhelming combination of body spray and perfume and Tyler’s cologne, not to mention the music that’s increasing in volume with each passing second. The car rolls down the street at, thankfully, a safe speed. Meghan drives with her body rigid and huddled over the wheel, and she doesn’t say a word. It’s like she’s terrified of getting distracted, so while she concentrates hard on the road, Rachael and Tiffani do enough talking to make up for her silence.

“If Molly Jefferson is at this party, I swear to God, I’m leaving,” Rachael states without glancing up from her phone. She’s texting extremely quickly, her fingers moving so fast that I just watch in amazement.

“Why would that loser be there?” Tiffani lets out a laugh as she adjusts her hair? running her fingers through it until she’s pleased with the way it’s sitting. “Austin’s a total creep, but at least he has standards. No losers.” For a moment, she leans forward an inch to peer at me over Tyler, but then she smiles and gets comfy again.

As we travel across the city, I steal a glance to my left. Tyler’s arms are folded across his chest and he doesn’t quite look comfortable, his eyes fixed on the hand brake, his face tight. He must notice my eyes on him, because he quickly glances sideways at me and then looks away just as fast. So I angle my body to the side and train my eyes on the passing buildings outside the window instead, but it does little to help how awkward I feel. Every few minutes I can sense Tyler’s eyes on me again, but each time I look back over to catch him in the act, he’s already looking in the opposite direction.

“What about that Sabine girl? Sabine…?” Rachael glances up from her phone and presses a finger to her lips as she thinks for a moment. She twirls around in the seat and squints at Tiffani through the gap in the headrest. “You know the one I’m talking about, right? The German exchange student?”

“The girl who stole my seat in Spanish class? Sabine Baumann.”

“Yes!” Rachael shrieks as she slumps back in the seat. “I hope she’s not there either. She’s always staring at Trevor.”

“And you, Tyler,” Tiffani adds. Beside me, I feel Tyler shrug, but it’s obvious this Sabine girl isn’t her friend. She presses her lips together and scoots closer to him.

The two of them discuss other potential party guests, with the rest of us offering little input: Meghan because she’s too busy trying not to kill us all; Tyler because he’s focusing so hard on staring at nothing in particular; and me because I honestly couldn’t care.

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