Sitting cross-legged on the rug, she ripped out one page after another. Poems, scribbles she’d never shown anyone else, raw or tender or sexy, except when she’d held her breath and sent a handful as a portfolio in her application to Yale. She folded quickly, until she was surrounded by paper airplanes.
Of course Brendan had been the one to teach her how to fold a paper plane, years ago. And Ian had made fun of her first no-fly attempts. But after her planes had flopped a few times, Ian had grabbed one, opened it up, and showed her how to fold it a different way.
Like this, Diana. His total focus had surprised her. Now they’ll fly. Then he’d grinned at her. Not as good as me and Brendan’s, but keep trying. She’d responded by pitching her plane straight at him.
Now, she went over all the creases a second time, pressing the paper until the folds were sharp. Then she scrawled Ian on each plane with a ballpoint pen. Climbing on her desk, she tugged open her window and stared down at the O’Brians’ quiet house.
With good aim, the plane in her hand could sail right into the landscaped backyard. Maybe it would land in the pool and her words would dissolve in the water. The tree outside her window whispered gently, but it didn’t tell her anything. The twins’ Jeep was missing from the driveway.
Shaking her head, she clambered off her desk. Then she smoothed all the planes into rumpled paper poems, stuffed them back in her journal, and shoved the cloth-covered book deep in her underwear drawer, next to her graduation speech and the torn panties Ian had ripped off her eager body.
Her parents looked surprised when she came downstairs dragging a sleeping bag, followed by her record player.
“Just feel like sleeping outside,” she mumbled, as she opened the back door.
This hadn’t been a breakup with the twins. Either of them. And there was nothing she needed to talk about with Ian. She certainly didn’t need to fly all her poems into his backyard. She wouldn’t drown her sorrows in the Rocky Road ice cream calling her name from the freezer, while she waited for Brendan to come back and reassure her. She wouldn’t find the graduation night record Ian had put on and play it on repeat until the sun rose. And she definitely wouldn’t keep her head under her pillow.
Whatever else was going on, the familiar ground and soft grass in her backyard were calm. Simple. As the air cooled down, she took off her glasses and snuggled into her sleeping bag. Low music from her turntable unwound into the night, and the endless sky was the last thing she saw before her eyes drifted closed.
Lulled by cricket chirps and the notes of her record, nearly asleep, Diana heard faint splashing on the other side of the fence. Someone was swimming in the O’Brians’ pool. Her eyes half-opened to follow the fuzzed shape of Orion in the sky, imagining one sleek muscular body or the other plowing through the waves.
It was probably just Mr. or Mrs. O’Brian, out for an evening swim. And if a tear slipped down her cheek, it was just in sympathy with the water. But the splashes were there the next night and the next, soon after she turned on her record player, and they comforted her.
*
As for the daytime? The problem with hooking up with the boys next door…was that they lived next door.
Monday morning, between bites of Rice Krispies, she glimpsed Brendan through her kitchen window: strolling down the O’Brians’ driveway, unfairly hot in a button-down shirt and tie, heading to his summer internship. She didn’t wait around to watch Ian emerge a few hours later in athletic shorts and a tank top, off to work at the gym nearby.
Tuesday night, her friends wanted to know why she stopped in the middle of pumping gas and drove her mom’s car away from the station with the tank still half-empty — and hey, wasn’t that one of the O’Brian twins coming out of the mini-mart, snacks in hand, looking all edible? And did the twins ever end up taking her out to celebrate graduation?
“We got ice cream,” Diana said quickly. “Nothing crazy. Very low-key.”
One twin, not two. Brendan, from the quick glimpse she’d gotten of his relaxed walk before she jumped back in the car. He’d spotted her too, opening his mouth to say something, and she had no plans of sticking around to hear it. She cranked up the radio, floored the gas, and tried not to remember Ian doing the same on Saturday night.
Wednesday evening, Mr. and Mrs. O’Brian came over for barbecue on the deck with her parents and Diana was forced to make friendly conversation before she left for a concert. She had to admit — once she’d pulled the pillow off her head on Sunday, she’d been going out. Having fun, even. Spending more time out of her house than in it, getting used to the strange feeling of free time. And it felt good, as long as she didn’t let herself see Ian’s eyes devouring her, or hear Brendan’s coaxing whispers, or or feel them both buried inside her as pleasure and need rocked her body. As long as she forgot that low voice murmuring You’re beautiful and You’re perfect and Remember your graduation speech?
But her ears pricked up when the O’Brians mentioned that Ian had been very quiet during the rare times they saw him at home. Of course both the twins were busy with their summer jobs, but this was unusual, and he didn’t even seem to be talking to his brother.
“Brendan’s always been the one person Ian listens to.” Mrs. O’Brian heaved a long-suffering sigh. “If we need to get anything across to Ian, we go through Brendan.” She shook her head. “I swear, his brother’s the only reason Ian isn’t wilder than he is.”
“Diana?” Her father frowned in her direction. “Do you have something in your throat?”
“No, no,” she coughed. “I better go.”
Hurrying out the door, she stopped herself from asking questions. But over the pounding music at the concert, and the dancing she was actually doing with her friends, she couldn’t stop remembering that even though she’d called Ian a slut, the only person he’d touched on Saturday night had been her.
That night, she did bring her dildo out to the backyard. Bass still hummed through her veins. Through every twist of her hips at the concert, she’d felt Ian’s hard chest brush against her breasts, Brendan’s hard cock press against her ass.
Yes…she was peeling off her sweaty dress, sighing with relief as she freed her full breasts from her lacy bra and massaged the sensitive curves under the open sky. And oh God, it felt so good to work the dildo into her waiting pussy, stroking her clit as she got wetter and more excited and the night air caressed her naked body.
Ian was spanking her, every smack of his big hand making her soft cheeks ripple. Brendan was whispering that she needed to face the world as he anchored her in a strange bed, four pairs of eyes and hands on her. Sweet Jesus, she was opening her lips to Ian as he put a mystery candy on her tongue, ready to follow him anywhere, trusting him and Brendan completely…she was tangled up with two muscled bodies in the treehouse as knowing fingers explored her pussy for the first time…she was alone with Ian in her bed, vulnerable but safe in his arms as they fell asleep together…oh God, she was so confused. She was so turned on.
She could only hope the music from her turntable hid her moans. As the splashes in the O’Brians’ pool sent tingles through her body, her pussy convulsed tightly around the dildo, hugging its roundness in a long shuddering orgasm.
Thursday afternoon found Diana standing at the front desk of the gym near her house, talking about classes and drop-in fees and whatever the hell else you discussed at a gym front desk while she peered over the receptionist’s shoulder at the machines and weights like the stalker she was.
There wasn’t any mistaking the sculpted slope of Ian’s back as he bent over a female body on the floor, spotting her through a series of weight lifts. The casual play of his muscles and his obvious focus made Diana’s stomach clench. Of course he was working with a cute girl, but from what she could see, Ian didn’t crack a smile, though the girl offered him plenty. No dimples, no flirting, nothing but business.
She could be bold, right? The word “gym” didn’t need to launch a panic attack any more. She w
asn’t a kid, and no one was laughing at her. After everything she’d done with the twins, it wouldn’t be a big deal to bike home, wriggle into the only shorts she owned — a red satin thrifted pair that said St. Xavier High School on the side and that she never, ever wore outside the house — stroll back into the gym like she actually knew what those machines did, and inform Ian she wanted a little personal training. And then — oh fuck, what the hell then?
“I know, right?” The receptionist was giving her a meaningful look.
“Sorry?” Diana said, flustered.
“One word: yum.” She followed Diana’s gaze to the back of the gym, lingering on Ian’s long body. “I know I shouldn’t say that, since I work here, but…” She winked at Diana and tapped a few keys on her computer. “I think he has some openings. Not soon, but if you can wait a couple weeks, I’ll fit you in…”
Right. Diana shook her head. She was just another girl who drooled over Ian. She’d seen he was alive and well, and that’s all she needed to know. She didn’t need any receptionist to do her a favor by fitting her in.
“I don’t think I can wait that long. Uh, to start getting in shape,” she said quickly. What was she even doing here? This wasn’t her territory. Ian would laugh if she showed up in her shorts. She’d been an idiot to think anything could work in the light of day, outside her bedroom or the O’Brians’ backyard. Or a club, or a stranger’s apartment… “Thanks, though.”
“Sure. I would have warned you anyway — he’s so serious. When he worked here last summer, he was always fooling around. I haven’t seen him smile once this week. Trust me, we’ve all tried.” The receptionist shrugged. “His twin brother comes to work out in the evenings,” she added. “Really friendly. Can you believe there are two of them?”
“Yeah.” Diana cleared her throat. “As a matter of fact, I can.”
*
Friday, she went to the beach with her friends. All day. There were no O’Brians to be seen, or any of their friends or relations. Just endless sun and sky and sand and water. And she felt it all, because once Marissa spread out the blanket, Diana took a deep breath, sucked in all her courage, and whipped off her oversized t-shirt.
For about five seconds, she wanted to shut her eyes tight and sink into the sand, feeling the salt air, the burn of the sun of her skin, and all the eyes on her.
Last Saturday night hadn’t been a fluke. People hadn’t just stared because she’d been with the twins. It made her dizzy to look around the stretch of sand and see so many guys glance away when she met their gaze — or not notice that she noticed them, because they were busy gawking at the generous swells of her breasts spilling over her yellow bikini top, or the soft curve of her ass, encased snugly in her high-waisted bottoms, or her smooth legs that felt nude like they never had before.
A piercing whistle split the air — Marissa.
“Put your shirt back on, hot mama. That’s got to be illegal.”
And Diana felt one hand actually reaching for her shirt, while her other hand stopped it. Instead, she took a deep breath. The sun felt good, the breeze across the tops of her breasts felt good, she was laughing now with her friends, and if she was mostly naked, well, so was everybody else. An hour later, sand between her toes and everyone already reminiscing about high school, she was so relaxed that she flopped onto the blanket and closed her eyes.
A hand nudged her shoulder. Diana blinked sleepily, confused by the bright light coming through her eyelids.
“You should put sunscreen on, Diana,” said a low voice. A shadow fell across her face. “You’re already starting to burn.”
Squinting, she tried to make out which twin’s head loomed over hers. A pair of brown eyes came into focus. Not Ian. Not Brendan. Alex Noriega.
Oh Jesus. She was remembering now. Alex had caught her by surprise in Marissa’s backyard, what, a week and a half ago, the night before graduation? She’d gotten high for the first time, she’d fended off his kisses, she’d giggled her way home, and Ian had sneaked in her window and made her forget it all. Felt like five years ago.
“Uh, thanks,” she murmured, fumbling with one hand for the bottle of sunscreen she’d seen nearby while she reached for her glasses with the other.
“Want help?”
Help. That sounded good. She could use a lot of help right now. She was a little startled when a dollop of cream squirted onto her back, followed by Alex’s hands rubbing it in. But she was too relaxed to argue, or to be all that embarrassed when she noticed his eyes on her flushed curves, or to make excuses when he asked what she was up to that night .
Six hours later, restaurant noise filled the air. Diana eyed Alex’s lips as he sipped his Coke across the table. Her shoulders were red with the first sunburn she’d had since she was a kid, her dress was unbuttoned an extra button in front, and she felt loose, relaxed, and floppy from lying on the beach all day.
Determined to challenge herself, she ordered the messiest, drippiest burger on the menu. It was delicious, even though she was constantly wiping juice off her chin.
“So what do you usually do on the weekend?” Alex’s knee pressed hers under the table. “I’ve always wondered.”
“You have?” Startled, Diana swallowed a mouthful of burger.
“Sure.” He smiled at her. “You’re never at parties. Except the one before graduation. You looked so cute rolling around in the grass. More relaxed, you know?”
Diana blinked at him. Her sundress strap slipped down her shoulder, and she pulled it back up. This was really happening. After rushing headlong through every other possible first in the past three weeks, she was on her first date.
And it was time to stop thinking that she should be in the O’Brians’ treehouse instead, or that Ian should be the one sitting across the table from her right now, joking and talking for hours, when she’d told him in the bitchiest way possible that she needed to be alone.
“Um, thanks. I keep pretty busy on the weekends. You know how it goes.” Diana tried to sound nonchalant. She popped a french fry in her mouth. “Study. Go to record stores. Participate in orgies.”
Alex’s mouth twitched. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Yeah.” She kept her face deadpan. The rub of Alex’s jeans against her bare leg was very distracting. “I don’t always make it to the record store.” Alex eyed her uncertainly over his burger. He wasn’t sure she was joking, she could tell. Or maybe he just thought she was nuts. “What about you?” she asked quickly.
“I, uh, I guess we haven’t been going to the same orgies. I keep missing you.”
“Sorry about that. Next time, I’ll call you.” She laughed, and he laughed too, looking relieved.
This was good, right? Weird, but good. She was dipping her french fry in Alex’s ketchup like she went out to dinner with guys all the time. They were actually making conversation. Alex was trying to focus on her face, but his obvious glances at the deep cleavage peeking from her dress, accented by her sunburn, drove a curl of self-conscious excitement through her body.
Alex was cute, in a scruffy kind of way. Would he like it if she pulled his hair later? Ian had loved that, the harder the better, and Brendan hadn’t minded either…
Fuck it, she was not going to think about their thick hair under her fingers, or how she wanted the twins’ hands in her own hair right now and all over her flushed body, soothing her prickling skin, or how, right when Alex asked about the literary magazine — did high school ever end? — she fought the urge to dig up all the poems she’d ripped out of her journal, hunt down Ian, and dump them in his lap.
“Want to see a movie after this?” she asked abruptly.
Alex blinked, his Coke halfway to his mouth. Shit, he’d been right in the middle of talking about college. Where was he going, anyway? Brown. Or Duke. Or some other one-syllable school, like she was.
“Yeah, yeah, of course. Whatever you want. What do you feel like seeing?”
The only logical move was to suggest the action m
ovie at the big cineplex nearby — the last type of movie she’d normally pick. Alex looked surprised, but once they sat down in the packed stadium theatre, he dropped an arm around her bare shoulders. The warm weight made her sunburned skin tingle.
Explosions rocked the screen. Diana did her best not to jump. When she turned to Alex, ready to whisper a comment about the action, he kissed her.
Surprised, her mouth opened. His lips were softer than she’d remembered, his tongue hotter. Curious, she ran her fingers through his shaggy hair, and her glasses were in the way, and it was exciting and awkward at the same time. Alex seemed to like that. Now his hand was in her hair too, and their tongues kept brushing, and nervous arousal shot through her body.
But Diana couldn’t keep her eyes from darting around. She could writhe between Brendan and Ian in a crowded club and not give a shit what anyone thought, but here? She was very aware of the people all around. Probably because Brendan wasn’t handing her sweet bubbly drinks and Ian wasn’t urging her to find things out with him. Had to be why.
And Alex was busy running a palm up her bare arm, his other hand cupping her head to pull her closer. From the way he was rubbing her shoulder, getting lower each time, she just knew he was working up to brushing against her full breast.
Should she let him, just because it would feel nice? What the hell was normal for a first date with a guy you barely knew? Brendan wasn’t here to murmur softly, reassuringly, in her ear that she was so sexy, doing such a good job, and Ian— just feeling his hot gaze on her body, his look of pure need and desire, sent a soft moan of answering need from her mouth, right around Alex’s tongue, right as his hand brushed the heavy swell of her breast. And she was this close to pushing her firm curve into his hand, aroused past awkward excitement now that she was feeling Ian’s hands on her too…
Her breath caught when Alex’s thumb rubbed the side of her breast.
The Boys Next Door: An MFM Menage Romance Page 23