I swallow the lump that’s rising in my throat. “When will we tell him?”
Tyler shrugs. “We can tell him tomorrow. Hell, we can walk back in there and tell him right now, but that means we’re going to ruin his trip to New York, because he’ll be going through hell. Or,” he says, “we can wait until their last day. Tell him the night before they leave. At least that way he’ll be able to enjoy New York, and he won’t have to be around us for long before he can hop on a plane and get the hell away from us. Get it?”
“You want me to pretend everything is fine for five days?” Nervously, I interlock my hands in my lap. I love Dean. That’s why this is so hard. I’m not going to break up with him because I don’t want to be with him. I’m going to break up with him because I’ve found my way back to Tyler, because it’s unfair on Dean to have a girlfriend who’s in love with someone else.
“Just act a little different so that he knows something’s up,” Tyler tells me, but he’s frowning as he starts up the engine. “God, he’s really gonna hate us, isn’t he? Could you see the way he was looking at you?”
“Looking at us,” I correct. I reach for my seatbelt and click it on, letting out a sigh I didn’t know I was holding in. “He looked so happy to see us.”
“Actually, forget Dean for a sec,” Tyler says as he pulls out of the spot and heads onto Madison Avenue. His tone turns bitter once more. “Why is Tiffani here? ‘Favorite pair of stepsiblings’? The fuck is that all about? She knows she hates us.”
“It’s just me she hates, actually,” I say with the smallest of laughs as I settle back against the seat, watching Tyler as he drives. “You know, ’cause I totally stole her boyfriend and all.”
Tyler glances sideways at me as he laughs, too, his expression softening up. One hand on the wheel, he reaches over the center console with the other, taking my hand in his. He intertwines his fingers with mine, his skin soft and warm, just like it always is. “I can’t even begin to tell you how thankful I am that you did.”
22
The next day, both Tyler and I are on edge. We can’t help it. It’s so nerve-wracking knowing that Dean’s within such close proximity. We have to be extra cautious again, monitoring what we say and ensuring we never look at each other for too long. We’re back to being nothing more than stepsiblings again.
And although we’re trying to act as normal and as innocent as we can, Tyler’s finding it difficult to hide his aggravation at the fact that Dean’s about to pick me up any second. He’s been brewing himself some coffee over in the kitchen as I pace the living room, awaiting the sound of a knock against the door, and eventually Emily picks up on the tension.
She pauses the TV, much to Snake’s annoyance, and cranes her neck to look at us, her eyes flickering back and forth between Tyler and me. “What’s the matter?”
“Eden’s got a date,” Tyler says. His eyes are zeroed in on me, and he stirs his coffee without even glancing down. His jaw is tight. “Her boyfriend surprised her last night by turning up in the city. Did I mention my psycho ex is here, too? Because she is.”
“Tiffani?” Emily asks.
I stop pacing the living room to throw Tyler a curious glance, an eyebrow raised. He must have told Emily about Tiffani. In fact, I think he must have told her just about everything about his life. She always seems to know the smallest of details.
“Yeah,” Tyler says stiffly. He turns away from us and focuses on his coffee, and it gives Emily the chance to turn her attention back to me.
“Eden, I didn’t know you had a boyfriend,” she says, eyes studying me intensely. It makes me uncomfortable.
“Yeah, yeah, who cares?” Snake mutters. He tries to lean over her to grab the remote for the TV, but she presses a hand to his chest and holds him back, her eyes never leaving mine.
“We’ve been together for over a year and a half,” I say quietly. A year and a half. That’s how much of Dean’s life I’ve wasted. “His name’s Dean.”
As if right on cue, there’s a knock at the door. All of us glance over at once, but Tyler and I are quick to flash our eyes back to each other. He stops dithering with the coffee, his hands pausing mid-air, and I gnaw at the inside of my cheek. I don’t particularly want to see Dean tonight, but if I don’t he’ll know immediately that something’s wrong. I’m not ready to tell him yet.
I can sense everyone’s eyes on me as I turn for the door, smoothing out my skater skirt on my way over. Slowly, I fiddle with the locks and swing open the door. And, of course, I’m greeted by Dean.
He breathes a sigh of relief the moment he runs his eyes over me, a smile on his lips. “Oh, thank God we got the right apartment.”
“We?”