Table of Contents
Dedication
Treehouse
The Morning After
Studying
Mystery Twin
Graduation
Night Out
Aftermath
Anything Can Happen
For Josh, my alpha reader.
Chapter One
Shouts and splashes echoed through the late May afternoon, bouncing from the neighbors’ backyard pool to Diana’s second story bedroom.
She stretched out on her unmade bed, trying to lose herself in Hamlet and ignore the party going on next door. Senior finals were coming up, with graduation two weeks away, and even though she was set to go to Yale in the fall, the grades still mattered.
But every time she turned a page, some girl would shriek or some guy would bellow, or another splash would tell her someone had jumped in the pool, and it just reminded her how very hot her room was and how very alone she was this weekend.
Throwing her book aside, she tugged the window open to let in some air, glaring at the O’Brians’ landscaped patio and manicured lawn. Beer bottles littered the grass, thumping bass shook her floor, and sleek wet bodies in swimsuits dove into the glistening pool.
Her eyes swept the yard for the twins. They’d be hard to miss: tall, muscled, powerfully built, moving with an easy confidence that made her sick with envy.
Her gaze stopped at a tanned male stretched out on a patio chair, beer in hand, surrounded by laughing girls.
Hard to tell from this distance whether it was Brendan or Ian. Up close, she’d know the difference right away: the cleft in Brendan’s chin, the dark freckle below Ian’s left eye, were obvious signs to anyone who knew them well.
But she hadn’t been up close to them in years, and she couldn’t say that she knew them well. Anymore.
The twin on the patio looked up from the bevy of girls, sipping his beer. Suddenly, his eyes met hers.
Shock zinged through Diana. God, she was in her underwear because it was so hot, and spying on her neighbors’ party like the social lame-o that she was, and he’d seen her! She ducked down below the window, her heart beating fast. Maybe he hadn’t seen her. Maybe he’d seen her, but he hadn’t noticed her black lace bra and the creamy cleavage spilling over the top.
Once her heart slowed down, she crawled along the floor and maneuvered back onto her bed. No way would her hand slide into her panties just because a pair of hazel eyes had turned her insides to jelly.
Tossing aside her black-rimmed glasses — oversized enough to be hip, if you embraced the hipness in being a complete nerd — she squinted at her laptop, trying to motivate herself to bang out another 500 words before she took a break.
But she couldn’t forget the eyes that had just met hers. Heat curled through her body that had nothing to do with embarrassment.
Shaking her head, she closed her laptop. How pathetic could she get? Saturday afternoon, sunshine so gorgeous it hurt, and she was alone in the house with Hamlet and her half-written paper for company, ignoring her friends’ texts because schoolwork came first, while her parents spent the weekend at the beach with Mr. and Mrs. O’Brian, and the twins, home from UConn for the summer, took advantage of having the house to themselves. Themselves, and thirty other people.
Diana could hear her mother’s excited voice in her head: “When you go away to Yale, the twins will practically be your neighbors again! It’ll be almost as good as having them next door. You can go cheer for them at their basketball games, and they can get you settled into campus life.”
Diana didn’t have the heart to remind her mother that their schools were an hour apart, and no one would be cheering or helping anyone get settled — except in their parents’ imaginations.
She sighed, taking a long swig of the watery iced coffee on her desk and rubbing the condensation over her face and neck. It hadn’t always been like this. Ten years ago, she’d been the one splashing in the pool with the twins or playing basketball with them in their driveway while Brendan gave her encouraging tips and Ian teased her mercilessly about her lack of skills. Growing up, they’d been in and out of each others’ houses all the time.
Two years older than she was, the twins had always looked eerily identical, with wavy brown hair, bright hazel eyes, broad dimpled grins —and wildly different personalities.
Brendan had been friendly and easygoing. Diana smiled, remembering how he’d taken the time to explain the rules of any game they were playing with total patience.
Ian, on the other hand, had pelted her relentlessly with water balloons during the hot summers, dumped ice down her shirt at family picnics, and put fake spiders in her bed when she’d slept over while her parents were out of town, the summer before third grade.
She’d quickly learned that with Ian, survival meant one thing: fight back, fight harder. If he dumped ice down her shirt, she’d dump it down his pants. Spiders in her bed? She retaliated with a caterpillar in his cereal bowl — a live one. And even though she’d been scared of Ian, she’d worshiped both the twins when she was little.
Diana kicked at her sheets restlessly, running her fingers through her sweaty dark hair and pulling it off her neck. She could pinpoint exactly when things had changed: the summer before sixth grade, when her parents had unexpectedly announced, in August, that her dad was taking a year-long teaching job in another state. Days before school started, her family had picked up and moved.
Her first day at her new school, she’d already been wound up in a ball. Right away, she caught people whispering and staring — staring at her chest. She’d blossomed over the summer, and the change was awkward, but exciting. She knew she looked older. But that summer, she’d been too busy being a kid to think about it.
Then, half an hour into the morning, her homeroom teacher told an older boy to walk Diana to the office so she could drop off a form. Instead, he took her around the back of the school to give her a “tour.”
Diana shook her head, remembering how trustingly she’d followed him past all the classrooms. She’d laughed at his jokes and shyly tried a few of her own. He was cute. He’d reminded her of the twins, just a little, and it was enough to reassure her.
That reassurance had lasted about five minutes. Right up to the point when, outside the art and band rooms, he’d tried to stick his hand down her shirt.
Shocked, flashing back on all the times Ian had teased her and she’d returned the favor twice as good, Diana gave the boy an instinctive knee to the crotch. Then she raced back to class, leaving him groaning on the ground.
Two hours later, she was called into the principal’s office. Still stunned, too embarrassed to tell the whole story to the principal or her parents, she resolved to keep her head down. The day would be over soon, right? She just needed to survive.
But she hadn’t counted on the boy talking, or what he’d say about her. By the end of the day, everyone knew what had happened with the new girl. And the rumor was that she’d started it. Wherever she turned, people were pointing, giggling, and mouthing names that made her turn red.
Every time she heard the hiss of the word “slut,” she wanted to sink through the ground. This had to be a bad dream. She’d wake up soon.
That bad dream had lasted nine damn months. Diana gulped the rest of her iced coffee now, scooped out an ice cube, and ran it along her flushed arms and chest. It reminded her of the ice fights she’d had with Ian, while Brendan shook his head at them.
So innocent. She’d wanted Brendan by her side so badly that year. No one would have bothered her with him there; she was sure of it. God, even Ian would have been better than nothing. She’d take spiders
in her bed over name-calling, any day. And nothing was all she had.
For the rest of the year, she’d blocked out the whistles, catcalls, and whispers about her name on the boys’ bathroom wall. Eventually, she made a few friends — shy kids, like her. She learned to wear big sweatshirts and focus on schoolwork. If she couldn’t win anywhere else, she could win in the classroom.
Going home in June was pure relief. But her body kept blooming, and the painful shyness didn’t leave.
Meanwhile, Brendan and Ian both stood about six inches taller than when she’d left. They were growing up too, but everything seemed to be going right for them. The crowds hanging out at their house, the laughter that always surrounded the twins, felt like a different world to Diana.
That first summer back, when Brendan spotted her reading in the backyard and tried to wave her over, she mumbled an excuse and rushed inside. When she biked past Ian shooting hoops, and he pulled his t-shirt off to toss it at her right in front of his friends, she swerved like the sweaty fabric was on fire and pedaled away without looking at him.
“What’s her problem?” she heard him mutter.
I’ll never tell you, Ian, Diana thought. You wouldn’t understand.
The twins were boys. Boys were scary now. Tall, good-looking, and confident; always off playing basketball and having dates with girls and going out with their friends. Or so she heard over the next two years when their parents got together for dinner and she was the lone kid at the table, politely answering questions about her grades and achievements.
But the night before she started high school, the phone rang.
“Brendan!” Her mother’s face lit up. Nearby, Diana froze, looking from her mother to the phone. “How are you? I’ve heard so much about your successes from your parents. Congratulations on being elected junior class president…and of course all your sports accomplishments. You must have heard about Diana, she’s had quite the full summer. She got a scholarship to—“
“Mom,” Diana muttered. Mrs. Cooper waved her off.
“We’ve missed seeing you, but I’m sure you’re just so busy. Not to mention getting your license. Such a shame about Ian, we heard the sad news.”
Right. Last week, Mrs. O’Brian had come over for a long talk with her mom, which involved a full bottle of wine and the news that Ian’s license had been suspended.
“Yes, I’m sure he missed seeing the mailbox…and those parked cars…and all the stoplights. It’s good of you to say he’s doing his best. Yes… Yes, of course I’ll put Diana on.”
Diana thought it must be a joke when her mother handed her the receiver. But no — Brendan wanted to know if she’d like a ride to school in the morning. She could barely squeak out a reply, and her armpits were sweating.
God, she hated her shyness. It didn’t matter that Brendan had been like a brother to her once. That was before he got muscular and popular and…hot. Ian, too. Her peeks out her bedroom window, when the twins splashed and tussled in their pool, didn’t leave any doubt.
The next day, her heart was in her mouth as she walked into the bright September morning. She’d changed dresses three times, smoothed down her dark bangs, and made sure her top button was buttoned. Her mother stood behind her in the doorway, calling out last-minute advice and waving cheerily to the twins.
It probably didn’t mean anything, Diana thought. Brendan didn’t really want to drive her to school. Ten to one, his mom had put him and Ian up to it. No way two popular juniors would choose to be associated with a lowly freshman.
As she approached the Jeep idling at the curb, the sight of both twins inside, bronzed from the summer sun, made her throat close up.
All the windows were down. Brendan sat in the driver’s seat, drumming on the steering wheel and showing his dimples. Next to him, Ian slouched in the passenger’s seat, his long legs stretched out.
“Hey, Di.” As she opened the back door, Brendan smiled at her like they’d hung out yesterday, instead of going three years without talking. “You look cute. That’s a nice dress. Same color as your eyes.”
“Thanks,” she stuttered, clutching her book bag. Brendan’s smile was sincere. It wouldn’t be like him to tease her. But he didn’t have to toss out compliments just to be polite. She wished he wouldn’t.
Flushed and already sweating, she dared a very quick glance at Ian. His hair hadn’t seen a comb in awhile. He looked like he’d been partying for a week. He raised his eyebrows. Before he could laugh at her, she turned away and climbed into the backseat.
“Ian, let Diana take shotgun.” Brendan spun the radio dial. “Or get in back with her. Don’t make her sit there all alone.”
Ian muttered something Diana couldn’t catch, but it sounded like a string of f-bombs.
“It’s okay,” she said hastily. Her bulging book bag took up the rest of the backseat anyway. There wouldn’t have been room for Ian’s lanky limbs, even if she could handle him sitting by her without losing all ability to breathe.
But there was another reason she was better off in the backseat: she couldn’t stop staring at the twins. God, if they saw her eyes on their biceps, and their broad shoulders under their t-shirts, and oh damn, the curve of their lips…
Brendan shrugged and pulled away from the curb, letting the radio settle on a station. Diana eyed the smooth skin on the back of both their necks, right in front of her. Ian’s seatbelt dangled by the window, unused.
She cleared her throat. “Uh, shouldn’t everyone be wearing a seatbelt?”
“Ian’s fine.” Brendan’s dimple showed from the side. “Don’t worry.”
“I’m not worried,” she sniffed. Ian slid lower in his seat and gave the volume knob a twist, turning the radio up to blaring.
“What classes are you taking, Di?” Hazel eyes met hers in the rearview mirror. God, Brendan could see her blushing. Had he caught her checking him and Ian out? Pulling her knees together, she tugged at her bright blue skirt.
“I’m taking Honors English, Honors World History, French 2, Algebra 2—”
“Algebra 2?” Brendan looked startled. “That’s a junior class. No one takes that before sophomore year. Even the smart kids.”
“I took geometry over the summer. And biology, and Journalism 1, and, um, P.E.,” she babbled. If she’d been the type, she’d skip her P.E. classes all year long and hide out in the library. She had a drawer stocked with extra-large t-shirts, ready to hide every inch of her. At least she’d only be with girls in high school.
“I took your-mom-etry over the summer,” came a rumble from the front seat.
Three years ago, Diana would have fired back a choice insult about Mrs. O’Brian, who’d practically been a second mom when she was little. Ian would have smirked and told her she didn’t know what she was saying. Brendan would have laughed and told them to stop hating.
Now, she wanted to bury her face in her bookbag.
“Never mind,” she mumbled.
“No, that's great, Di,” Brendan stretched an arm across the back of Ian’s seat, rubbing his brother’s shoulder. “This is going to be a good year. I can feel it. Give us your schedule when we park and we’ll show you where your classes are. And find us at lunchtime. Just look out for me or Ian, and—“
“No!” she blurted. Her face was on fire, and all she wanted was to leap out of the Jeep. Find them at lunchtime? Was Brendan crazy? She couldn't handle a conversation with the twins -- make that Brendan, since Ian would barely talk -- in their car. Sitting with them at lunch, with all their cool older friends, would mean the most intense humiliation she could imagine.
She needed to stick to her own world. She needed to stay safe.
“I’m fine.” She took a deep breath. “I’ll sit with my friends. I already have plans.”
“Okay.” Brendan sounded disappointed. He eased the Jeep into a parking spot in front of the school. Little did he know the embarrassment he'd been spared. “Your choice.”
“Yeah. Sure.” Her brain was too
panicked to let her form more than a few words. “Thanks for the ride.”
Without a word, Ian shoved his door open, angled his long body out, and slammed the door behind him. In seconds, he’d sprinted across the lawn to a pack of guys. They surged around him, yelling and slapping his back, and his face broke into a grin for the first time that morning. Loose cannon, Mrs. O’Brian had called Ian.
Brendan waited, his hands resting on the steering wheel.
“I’ll be okay,” she managed. “Thanks.”
“All right.” He turned over his shoulder to smile at her again. A gorgeous, dimpled smile that made her stomach drop and her knees shake, but she knew Brendan gave that smile to everybody. “I meant it, Di. If you need help with anything, let us know.”
She nodded quickly and clambered out of the Jeep. As Brendan strolled across the lawn to join his brother, she took the long way around to the front doors of the school to avoid the twins and their friends.
That evening, Brendan called again and offered to carpool every day. At least, that’s what her mother told her, because Diana refused to take the call. After the way she’d seized up in the Jeep, barely able to look either twin in the eye, there was no way she’d put herself through that embarrassment again.
If it hadn’t been clear enough, high school made it obvious: her friendship with the twins was a hundred years in the past. Brendan and Ian were basketball stars, always practicing on the court or pumping iron in the gym. She found a niche in the literary magazine and stayed up late at night working her way to the top of her class.
Brendan at least called out a hello when she passed him in the halls, and she tried her best to say hi back without breaking into a sweat. Ian ignored her completely now.
It wasn’t hard to pick up on the gossip about the twins, though, and she knew that Brendan was a reasonably conscientious student, voted “Most Likely to Succeed” and busy with student government, while Ian was giving his parents one headache after another. Sophomore year, he and some other guys had been suspended for pulling a prank on their biology teacher that involved more frogs than anyone should have access to, and his mother complained he was partying every weekend and doing the bare minimum to keep his grades up in order to play basketball.
The Boys Next Door: An MFM Menage Romance Page 1