The Boys Next Door Ch. 07

Behind him, she saw Brendan, standing by the popcorn counter with the rest of their friends, glancing casually at the two of them. When she met his eyes, he gave her a little half-wave. Probably expected the three of them to get all cozy again, once she and Ian made up. She responded with a curt nod and turned back to Ian.

"Don't even think about ruining my date."

Ian ran a hand through his wavy brown hair. Diana wished he hadn't. It just made her want to grab his hair too, and pull, guiding his head down to her— She shook her own head impatiently, and Ian shoved his hands in his pockets again.

"Having fun?" he asked.

"None of your business."

"Seems like a nice guy." Ian shrugged. "Put him on a leash and you'll have a cute pet."

"I didn't ask you."

"Come on, Diana." Now a hint of dimple showed. "We both know you could eat him for breakfast."

"I'll stick with rice krispies, thanks." Dammit, she was not going to let Ian make her laugh again. "And I bet you don't know when breakfast is anymore, 'cause you're not sleeping."

"Yeah. Someone keeps playing moody electronica next door."

Diana couldn't hold back a smile now. "Well, your splashing is keeping me awake."

"Well," he mimicked, "you should wear sunscreen when you lie out. All your skin's gonna peel off." Unbelievable. Ian was actually pulling a shred of skin off her bare shoulder. The brush of his thumb on her flushed skin sent a hot current of need through her body. Her nipples hardened, pressing against her sundress, and her pussy ached with sudden desire.

"What's the worst that can happen? My insides will fall out?" She slapped his hand away.

"Diana, look—" He fixed his eyes on hers. Oh God. That pleading gaze was going to melt her into a puddle, and it was probably all an act anyway — she'd seen the way he'd puppy-dogged her mom into believing they'd spent a completely platonic night together in her bed.

"I am looking," she said in a low voice. And she didn't want to stop. Her hand was two seconds away from stroking the freckle under his eye.

"Hey there," said a voice behind her. She turned, so relieved Alex had shown up that she pecked his cheek.

"Hey," she said. "Let's go."

But Alex wasn't moving. "Are you...yeah, you're one of the O'Brian twins," he was saying to Ian, sounding...happy. Excited.

"Yep. Ian." And Ian was actually holding out his hand, giving Alex a firm handshake like he was a person with manners. "And you are?"

"Sorry," Diana said grudgingly. "I should have introduced you guys." Clearly she was still a nice girl, too polite for her own good. "This is Alex Noriega. We just graduated together."

"Hey, you were responsible for that prank with the principal's car and the pink spray paint, right? And the shrink wrap? People are still talking about it two years later. That was gold, man," Alex gushed.

Diana wanted to kick him. So much for Alex saving the day. Ian nodded modestly, then launched into a drawling story about covering some door on the UConn campus with marshmallows. Somewhere, that story turned into another story. Alex hung on to every word, while Diana could only seethe.

Ian was doing it. Ruining her date — slowly, surely, and completely. Couldn't he leave her alone? Did he consider every girl he'd fucked his territory, his property, so he couldn't let her go have a good time with Alex in Mrs. Noriega's minivan?

And as Ian kept talking like he planned to be there all night, piling on details Diana never would have believed if she didn't know he was capable of it all, was she really looking over her shoulder pleadingly at Brendan, who was watching the whole conversation with a look of amused interest? When she caught his eye, he just gave her an exaggerated shrug and mouthed something that looked an awful lot like "not my job". Then he fucking winked.

"You know what?" Diana shouldered her purse. "I'm just going to leave the two of you alone together and go get ice cream." For real, not as an alibi for clubbing and mass hooking up.

Ian raised an eyebrow at her — she wanted to tell him to put it back down again — but Alex looked abashed.

"I'm kidding," she said. She put her hand on Alex's arm. A little part of her watched the whole scene in shock. She was putting her hand on a guy's arm like it was nothing, when three weeks ago she wouldn't have been able to really look him in the eye. She supposed she had the twins to thank.

"So how do you guys know each other?" Alex finally asked.

"The O'Brians live next door to me," Diana said shortly. "Ian's like my annoying older brother. Brendan, too. See you around," she said to Ian, firmly steering Alex away towards the door.

But she couldn't help looking over her shoulder as they left the theatre. Brendan stood with an arm around his brother. While their friends laughed and talked, both twins watched her go.

*******

She had to blame that look back. There was no makeout session with Alex in his mom's minivan. Her glasses never came off. Instead, driving away from the movies, there was a passionate debate about some band she didn't even like, but once Alex made a comment she mildly disagreed with, she began arguing harder and harder, just for the hell of it.

So much for being afraid she'd run out of things to say on a date. It wasn't until she came up for air at a stoplight that she noticed Alex looked a little scared of her, even though he was still sneaking peeks at her breasts. A guy? Scared of her?

The date ended with an awkward elbowy hug in front of her house — or so she thought, until Alex's rambling postmortem via text showed up half an hour later, right before she dropped the needle on her record and climbed into her sleeping bag. Maybe Ian had been right about the leash, and that was the absolute last time she was going to think about him tonight.

As Diana's eyelids drifted closed, the shine of the stars and the flash of fireflies kept her company. It was nice outside. Peaceful. The one thing she could count on to make sense. She could see herself spending every night out here until she left for Yale.

Deep into the night, she rolled over and stirred awake, sleepily taking in the whispering trees and the damp grass against her hand. The needle scratched the record. The air had cooled down from the humid heat of the day.

Something lay in her field of vision, a lumpy pile on the grass that hadn't been there when she'd fallen asleep.

Curious, she crawled out of her sleeping bag, dew on the grass getting her legs wet, and knelt in front of the pile, shivering a little in the night air. Fleece met her hands. A blanket. A Huskies blanket. She recognized it from the O'Brians' den. Maybe it had cushioned her back when she'd lost her virginity to Ian in the treehouse. And taken Brendan right after that...

Next to the blanket was a thermos. Probably spiked, she thought wryly, but she unscrewed the lid. Steam rose to meet her. Little marshmallows bobbed on top. The smell brought back every cup of Swiss Miss she'd ever drunk.

A piece of paper lay on the blanket. She unfolded it. Three words: Can we talk? The messy, spiky handwriting didn't leave any doubt who'd written it.

Who the hell was we? Her and Ian? Brendan too? Could she honestly sit down and talk with either of them without wanting to jump them? Or yell at them, or both?

She pressed the blanket against her cheek, running her hand over the fuzzy fleece, and sniffed the hot chocolate again, closing her eyes at the warm scent. There was no way this could work. Brendan had told her to trust them, but right now, she didn't trust herself.

*******

Saturday afternoon, Diana sprawled on her bed, reading in her underwear. She'd fallen asleep wrapped in the blanket the night before, still smelling hot chocolate, but when the sun rose, she'd folded the blanket neatly, set the thermos and note on top of it, and tiptoed inside her sleeping house.

She couldn't bring herself to go out today, see her friends. Can we talk? tugged at the inside of her head. She saw the twins' hazel eyes on her as she left the movie theatre, felt their solid bodies surrounding her in the club, in her bed, in the treehouse, heard their whispers urging her to do everything she'd always wanted to do. She smelled smoke and beer and the twins' male sweat, tasted Ian's hot mouth as his lips closed over hers in front of everybody.

Voices and laughter floated through her open window from the party next door. Mr. and Mrs. O'Brian were gone for the weekend again — Diana had to wonder what they thought the twins did when their parents were out of town — and her own parents were off at a lecture somewhere. After an especially loud shriek, Diana couldn't help it. She wiped the sweat from her forehead, rolled off her bed, and went to the window.

A twin lay in a chair on the O'Brians' patio, beer bottle dangling from one hand, staring out at the pool.

Girls came up to him, and he ignored them.

From this distance, Diana could tell who it was. She didn't need chin clefts or freckles as guides anymore.

And suddenly, she knew what to do. Throwing down her book, she unhooked her black bra, wriggled out of her damp panties, and let them all drop to the floor. She took just a second to turn a full circle in front of her mirror and eye the new tan lines on her body that outlined the full pale globes of her breasts and pointed right to the velvety patch between her legs. The sunburn was calming down, but her skin still prickled, making her very aware of every touch — the lace on her bra, the breeze from the window, her dark hair tickling her shoulders.

One quick tug and her underwear drawer was open. On went her yellow swimsuit. She tied the little red bows tightly on the sides, adjusted her deep cleavage in the top, smoothed her bangs, and slipped on a sundress.

Three weeks ago, she'd quaked at going over to the O'Brians' and walking in on their party. Three weeks ago, she'd been afraid.

She didn't need to toss back a shot of vodka for courage now. She didn't need to pace and argue with herself while school and shyness and lust pulled her in all directions. A text to her parents that she was heading to the O'Brians', a scramble onto her desk and up to the window frame, a deep breath, and she was in the tree outside her window.

The smell of cut grass filled her nose. Wind set the branches swaying, the bark rough against her palms and bare feet. And God, saying she wasn't afraid right now would be a lie, but if the tree could hold two muscular guys, it could hold her. She half-climbed, half-slid down the thick trunk, scraping her legs, breathless and laughing when her feet hit the ground.

Her pulse pounded as she ran over her lawn, wet from the sprinklers. Years ago, she and the twins had lined up rocks on the grass to show the exact boundary between their houses. The rocks were gone now, but she'd crossed the line a long time ago, and she had no plan to turn back.

Walking right through the O'Brians' unlocked front door, she stopped short, her heart beating faster, when she saw a half-naked twin in the kitchen getting ice.

He looked up, startled. Then a pleased smile broke across his face.

"Hey, Di," he said softly. "I won't bite."

Brendan. "No, that's not your style," she managed.

He laughed — a genuine laugh. Diana started laughing too. Before she could think twice, she crossed the kitchen and impulsively grabbed him in a tight hug. Brendan's arms wrapped firmly around her, pulling her close. She could tell herself his hug felt brotherly. Almost.

"We missed you, Di."

"We?" She repeated.

He shook his head above her. "I promised I'd stop talking for Ian. I missed you. But I know he did too."

"You guys are talking again," she murmured into his shoulder. "To each other. I heard you weren't."

"Yeah," Brendan said quietly. He squeezed her waist. "Mad at me?"

"Not anymore."

"Good, Di. I'm really glad." She could feel the relief in the muscular body close to hers.

"Missed you too," she whispered. She let her cheek rest against his chest, her skin stirring when Brendan's hand brushed her hair off her neck and forehead.

.

"Look, Brendan —" the kitchen was starting to feel much warmer, and she had to stay strong in her resolve for which twin she was here to see.

"Ian's out back." His thumb was rubbing her shoulder blade idly now. Maybe he really didn't notice that kind of thing. Maybe she could get used to it. "I think he'll be really glad to see you." And before she was ready to brave the backyard, he'd put a drink in her hand and walked her outside.

The O'Brians' backyard spilled over with people in swimsuits: yelling, laughing, scarfing chips, guzzling beer, playing ping-pong. Music vibrated the air. Diana walked right through the crowd. Nervousness pricked her skin, but it didn't stop her from looking around, smiling, even saying hi to the people she passed.

Those sleek tanned bodies frolicking around the pool belonged to people, just people like her. If she'd learned anything from putting her head between the legs of the kind of girl who'd always scared her, it had been that.

"Hey, you gave that speech at graduation, right?" one girl called out. "My little brother's in your class...we all really liked it..."

Calling back a thanks, amazed that she wasn't blushing, Diana stopped short at the edge of the pool. A lone figure cut through the water, sending up furious splashes on either side as he zoomed from one end to the other. One glimpse of his back, wet and slick, and she shimmied out of her sundress, not caring who saw her curves on display or where that low whistle came from. Her glasses went on top of her clothes.

She jumped into the pool, not with a sleek dive, but a kid's belly flop. If the music hadn't been loud already, she would have cranked it up. Swimming as fast as she could toward the twin in the water, she took a deep breath and grabbed his ankle, hard.

Ian twisted to glare over his shoulder.

"What the fuck—"

He broke off.

"You're in my lane," Diana said in a low voice.

Hazel eyes widened. Ian turned to face her, water dripping off his cheeks and clinging to his eyelashes and broad shoulders. She'd never seen him quiet like this before. "Really glad to see you" was not the dominant expression on his face. It was more like, "What the hell are you doing here?"

Dammit, she'd misjudged everything. She should get out of the pool right now and go home — except that Ian's hands gripped her waist, holding her up in the water. She'd trusted him to respond, give her something to go on, and now she had no idea what to say next.

"You wanted to talk?" she whispered. God, her voice was giving out. Hoarse.

He was just staring at her. Finally, he spoke.

"Not here. In my room."

Now her throat really was dry. Her hands squeezed Ian's shoulders. Cool water lapped their skin. She nodded quickly. Pulling her with him, Ian swam to the side, grabbed the ledge, and heaved his dripping body out of the pool. He bent to give Diana a hand up.

Neither of them let go. Ian's fingers felt too good laced through hers as they crossed the lawn, pretending they weren't still holding hands. Past the warm pressure of Ian's palm and the hot sun on her wet body, Diana barely noticed the clack of the ping pong ball, paddles flashing, bottles clinking, some of the twins' friends watching her and Ian curiously as he held the back door open for her.

The O'Brians' long kitchen, the fancy dining room, the living room with the giant recliner that she and twins had rolled around on when they were kids, were all so familiar, the way she'd always remembered them, but changed, too — a new landscape over the dining table, a different couch in front of the TV.

She was aware of Ian's eyes on her creamy skin as they climbed the stairs, passed a twenty-year photo gallery of the smiling twins, and walked down the upstairs hallway. Water dripped from her swimsuit and hair, leaving a trail on the polished wood floor, and Ian's wet swim trunks clung to his legs. It couldn't be denied — she was looking too. As they passed a closet, he opened the door, took out two thick towels, and wrapped one around her shoulders. Her skin tingled at the brush of soft cotton.

"Uh, do you and Brendan still share a room?" Last she remembered, the twins were thirteen and insisting on their bunk beds.

A pause. "Nuh-uh," Ian said finally. "But Brendan still sleeps with a nightlight."

Diana couldn't keep back a spurt of laughter. "Be nice."

"Eh, he can take it. Believe me."

Pulling her into a room on the left, he closed the door.

Posters plastered the walls and ceiling. The bunk beds were long gone. Diana eyed the low full-size bed, which to her shock was actually made. Ian's decorating style had been wall-to-wall posters when they were kids, too. There were all the sports posters she expected, and the music posters, but instead of the generous serving of girlie pictures she'd figured was a given, there was only one — small and close to his bed. A pinup girl, frolicking cheerfully in a swimsuit while salt spray licked her legs. A girl with black bangs and shoulder-length hair, with pale voluptuous curves and a slim waist. A girl who looked...a lot like she did.

Neither of them had broken the silence. Diana let Ian's hand go and pointed at the picture. "I'm not sure how to feel about that."

Ian shrugged. "I like brunettes with big tits. Surprise." He was standing posed by the door, looking cool, but Diana noticed his leg jiggling. "Did I ruin your date?"

"Pretty much."

"Good."

Diana sniffed, turning quickly to examine the basketball trophies that lined the dresser. Ian's eyes, following her exposed body as she picked up each trophy and studied it, sent a hot flush over her skin. She might as well be naked in his room. Laughter from the backyard filtered through the window, along with summer sounds from the neighborhood: a lawn mower whirring outside, leaves rustling, cars rolling by. Ian stood a foot away from her, drops of water dripping down his chest.

"Ian," she said softly. When she turned to face him, warm skin met her hands. Hot lips closed over hers. "Wait," she panted before she dove in for another kiss. "We have to—" Oh God, Ian was sucking hard on her lower lip, and she was tasting his tongue, raking her fingers through his hair like she'd wanted to all week, squeezing his shoulders, trying to wrap herself around him. "We have to talk," she gasped out, even as she ran her tongue over his neck and Ian grunted, backing her against the dresser. "You wanted to talk. So talk." She couldn't help adding, as Ian's finger on her spine made her shudder and she grabbed his hand, "This time it was your idea, right? Not Brendan's?"

Ian's chest rose and fell through a few deep breaths. Then he tipped his head toward the bed. Diana let him guide her to the low mattress, wrapping the towel tightly around her curves. Keeping space between their wet bodies — a bare inch — was the hardest thing she'd ever done.

Ian leaned back and rubbed his forehead. "Brendan always knew," he said abruptly. "He knew I had a crush on you from the time we were kids. But I'd never admit it to him, and the times he said something, I said you were an obnoxious little priss and no way."

Diana could actually feel her mouth fall open. "You teased me constantly."

"And you gave it back so well." A grin flashed across Ian's face. "So well."

She blinked, stunned. This was a lot to absorb, and God, Ian didn't waste any time getting down to it. "Why?" she asked finally. "Why would you never admit it?"

"You're so smart, Diana." His voice dropped. "It's kinda scary."

"I'm not..." She broke off. "I'm not. There's a lot that I— that I don't know."