Now she was learning: love wasn’t always soft and sweet. As down and dirty as her fantasies had gotten in high school, she’d never crossed them with loving someone. In her mind, she’d fucked just about every boy in her class on every available surface. But she hadn’t laid herself bare for them, and she wouldn’t have wanted to see them bare for her.
What she felt for Ian was so huge and raw and overwhelming, her skin was about to burst. When Marissa showed up late and gave her a hug, she jumped.
“What is it?”
“Stuff,” Diana whispered.
“Is it the boy?” Marissa whispered back.
“Yes. It’s the boy.”
Ian wasn’t a boy, not anymore. Not to her. He was a man. Being a woman, with a man, was a lot to wrap her head around. Sweet Jesus, he’d fucked her hard.
“Is it more than you can handle?” Marissa squeezed her hand.
“I can handle it.”
Her shoulder pressed against Marissa’s, the solid contact helping her breathe. She needed to talk. She needed to tell someone about being overwhelmed, someone who wasn’t Ian. But if she couldn’t start the story at the treehouse, could she start anywhere? She was sitting on a wooden bench leaning against one of her best friends, but would Marissa listen with an open mind, or would she hear the words “Ian O’Brian” and lose all her shit?
A familiar face floated across her mind — bright hazel eyes, broad dimpled smile, chin with a cleft.
Brendan would understand. She could be totally honest with Brendan, about everything. He’d been there, done her. Seen her let go, urged her further. Deeper, Di. Harder. More.
She grabbed the splintery table with one hand, dizzy. If she just found a minute alone with him today… God, no, that wasn’t a good idea.
“Are you two done having a moment?” Janelle waved a hand in front of her and Marissa. “Because there are decisions to be made about food.”
*
Gray-blue smoke hung over the O’Brians’ backyard. The barbecue was already in full swing, and the landscaped lawn and patio pulsed with noise and people.
Heat shimmered in the air. Diana followed her parents through the gate, carrying the Rice Krispies treats she’d made that morning.
Her ladybug-printed dress — the first real purchase she’d made with her summer job paycheck, after replacing the glassware and putting half in savings — showed a peek of cleavage and fit like a glove. It didn’t just outline her curves; it flaunted them. If Ian thought her usual style was librarian-on-crack, this was librarian on the red pill he’d held out to her, that night at the club, like a dare on his palm.
Find out with me.
She was finding things out, but Jesus, did she understand anything about what she was learning?
As the gate creaked closed behind her, she scanned the bustling yard for two tall tanned frames, two pairs of muscular shoulders, and two heads of brown hair. Both twins stood in the center of the patio, surrounded by people.
Half the neighborhood was milling around the pool and patio, along with a generous helping of the twins’ friends — the same people, barely dressed, that Diana had watched enviously from her window that hot May weekend when everything began.
Now the beautiful people were starting to look like regular people. She recognized the guys who’d spent half of high school in the O’Brians’ driveway with their shirts off, the girls who’d stuck to the twins’ sides in the halls.
But what the hell were they doing here? Brendan had promised her a low-key afternoon, just her and the twins hanging out at a family barbecue. Wholesome, innocent — and the three of them. The twins’ friends weren’t supposed to play a part in it.
Mrs. O’Brian hurried up, giving hugs and kissing cheeks. Diana smiled through the greetings. As the conversation turned to her mom’s secret coleslaw recipe, she slipped off to the dessert table. Setting her plate down by piles of brownies and cookies, she tore away the plastic wrap.
A bare arm brushed hers. A muscled body bumped her hip.
“’Scuse me.” Ian gave her an unapologetic smirk. But the shadows under his eyes — those were all her fault.
“You’re excused.” Her throat was dry. Ian was warm, even feverish against her side. Shirtless, not wearing much else. His boxers peeked above his low-hanging shorts. He snagged a Rice Krispy treat and held it to her lips.
“You should eat one before everyone rushes the table. I remember when you used to bring these. They always went first.”
She hadn’t been able to eat all day, but she bit into the sticky square. She wanted to kneel in front of Ian on the bricks, beg another bite, lick marshmallow off his palm, yank down his shorts…
Jesus, as dirty as her mind had been in high school, this was another level. Deeper and stronger and out of her control.
Past the table, a smiling twin stood in the middle of a group, laughing easily at someone else’s joke.
I need you, Brendan, she thought at his broad back. What she felt for Ian went way past need. And thank God Brendan had a shirt on, because she did not need to see both twins half-naked right now.
“The way I remember it, they disappeared because you ate most of them,” she murmured to Ian. “Plus, you stole mine and made me chase you for it.”
“‘Course I did. You would have cried if I didn’t.” He offered her another bite and flashed his dimples. But his eyes were dark, as dark as they’d been the night before, the rings of hazel almost hidden by black.
“Diana!” Her mother bustled over. “The DiStefanos want to hear all about Yale. Go talk to them.”
“I haven’t started there yet,” Diana muttered. Normally, she’d do the polite thing and trot over anyway. Always the good girl. But she stayed put. “I can tell them about it at Thanksgiving break.”
Mrs. Cooper raised her eyebrows. “They’re dying to hear whatever you have to say. Hello, Ian,” she added less enthusiastically, eyeing the Rice Krispy treat an inch from her daughter’s lips.
“Oh, hey, Mrs. Cooper,” he drawled. “Diana’s hungry. I don’t think you’re feeding her enough.”
Mrs. Cooper smiled brightly. “You look—”
“Exhausted,” Mrs. O’Brian filled in, joining them. “I’m not going to ask what you’ve been doing, because I know we won’t get an answer.”
“Working out. Drilling. All good stuff.” Ian bent to kiss his mother’s cheek, popped the rest of the Rice Krispy treat in his mouth, and strolled off. Looking over his shoulder, he caught Diana’s eye and pointed to his full mouth. “Yum.”
Mrs. O’Brian put a hand to her cheek. “Did you see that?” she exclaimed. “He’s been so affectionate recently. At home, he’ll just come up and give me a hug. The last time I got a hug from Ian — it must have been high school graduation. Of course, Brendan has always been such a sweetheart, but if Ian hugged me once a year, I was lucky. He looks so tired, though. It worries me.”
“All that partying is taking its toll,” her mother tsked. “I’m surprised Brendan doesn’t keep him in check.”
“Well, we certainly can’t.” Mrs. O’Brian shook her head. “But he seems to be turning things around. We see him studying, and I don’t think he’s drinking like he used to. I don’t know why, but it’s coming from somewhere. Dennis says we need to buckle up for a huge explosion, but I have hope. I’ve always had hope for Ian.”
“I’m going to say hi to the DiStefanos,” Diana said quickly. “Mom said they wanted to talk to me.”
“Of course. Help yourself to a drink on the way,” Mrs. O’Brian offered. “The cooler’s by the grill, and we have too much food like we always do. Dennis is keeping the beer out of sight,” she added to Diana’s mother, rolling her eyes at the twins’ friends. “We didn’t expect so many of them to show up, but Brendan promised they’re just stopping by.”
Diana bent over the cooler, sifting through the ice. She welcomed the cold sting on her palm.
So the twins’ friends were at the barbecue because of Br
endan. Was he avoiding her and Ian? And here she’d been hoping to talk to him. She wanted to grab him, shake his shoulders, ask what his deal was and get an honest answer.
“No matter how much you scrape the bottom, you’re not going to find beer,” a male voice said.
Diana straightened up from the cooler and turned to see one of the twins' friends, blond and broad. It took her a second to realize: he was flirting.
She cleared her throat. “That’s okay. I’ll just get a club soda.”
“Aw, that’s no fun. Let loose.” He grinned at her.
She remembered this guy. She’d seen him in high school with the twins and their pack of jock friends, taking over the front lawn and shouting down the halls. Kent or Keith or Kevin somebody. Here he was, giving her a confusingly puppyish smile. Maybe the ice princess shell had really cracked.
“O’Brian’s rounding up the alcohol,” he went on. “Dude has a nose for it, wherever it’s hidden. You know him? I haven’t seen you around here.”
O’Brian. Was that Ian or Brendan? The nickname reminded her that the twins had a whole life she didn’t know about. But she knew the real Ian and Brendan, dammit. Didn’t she?
“Yes, I know him,” she said firmly. “I’ve known the twins forever. We grew up together. I’m Diana.”
“Nice. I’m Keith. They’ve talked about me, right?”
“Definitely. All the time.” She began to giggle. “I can’t get them to stop.”
Sudden cold against the back of her neck made her jump.
“Ian!” She glared over her shoulder at an evil grin.
“Whoops. Just checking that this is cold enough.” He held up his hands, a can in each, and nodded to Keith. “Beer.”
“Beer,” Keith repeated. “Alcohol calls.” He turned to Diana. “You sure I can’t get you some?”
“No thanks,” she murmured. “I’m all set.”
“Come on.” Ian tossed a can at Keith’s chest and walked him toward the grill. “There’s more where this came from.”
Diana watched him go, unable to tear her gaze from his sculpted back. As far as she knew, Mrs. O’Brian was right. Ian hadn’t had much to drink since they got together. Definitely not with her, other than the wine they’d sipped at that sidewalk cafe. She hadn’t needed to taste that wildness either. Being with him was intoxicating enough.
Seeing him half-naked across the patio, unable to touch him or even admit to anything going on, was driving her crazy. How much longer could this continue? She needed to walk over to her parents and tell them the truth, right now. But she stayed where she was.
Over by the grill, Mr. O’Brian came up to Ian, gave his son an exasperated look, and held out his palm for the beer. Ian shook the can, obviously empty now, and handed it over with a jaunty smile. As his father launched into a lecture, Ian nodded agreeably, then sauntered over to the grill and picked up the tongs. He waved a hand at his dad to signal that he was taking over flipping duties, gesturing toward the table loaded with food and the people milling around the backyard. Mr. O’Brian looked pleasantly surprised.
“There you are, Diana!” Mrs. DiStefano was standing in front of her with a big smile. “I was just telling your mom that we have to hear all about Yale. You must be so excited.”
“Thanks, I am,” she murmured. She twisted the cap off her club soda. Someone draped an arm around her shoulders.
“Are you finding everything you need, Di?”
She nodded, blinking up at Brendan’s dimples. She probably looked lovesick, and the gleam in his eyes told her what he thought of it.
“Hi, Mrs. DiStefano,” he added. “It’s so good to see you.”
“You too, Brendan. Always a pleasure.” Mrs. DiStefano looked with interest at Brendan’s arm around Diana.
The charm was practically rolling off him, Diana thought. She eyed the line of his jaw, then his broad chest, hidden by his light blue polo shirt. If she could flick a switch there to turn off the charm, she would.
Mrs. DiStefano was asking about Yale again. Diana summoned up every fact she remembered from her visit last fall. Brendan filled in with helpful comments, because of course he’d been to the campus for some reason. As Diana glanced toward the grill again, Ian’s eyes went to her like a magnet.
She tensed. Brendan must have felt it, because he rubbed her shoulder.
“And Brendan, I hear so much about what you’re up to,” Mrs. DiStefano exclaimed. “Not as much about your brother, but I hope no news is good news. I swear, I’m still scrubbing the slime out of my mailbox from that giant slug he left in there, and I don’t know how many years ago that was.”
Diana cleared her throat. Looking up at Brendan, she did her best to bore holes in him with her eyes.
Brendan hesitated a split second, then gave Mrs. DiStefano his most rueful expression. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. DiStefano. I was the one who put that slug in your mailbox. I was being a dumb kid.”
“You?” Mrs. DiStefano looked shocked. “I can’t believe that.”
“Really. I was five and I thought it was funny.” A very small quirk at the corner of Brendan’s mouth told Diana he still thought it was funny, but it quickly smoothed out. Regret radiated from his face. “I shouldn’t have done it. I’m sorry.”
“Oh, don't be, Brendan.” Mrs. DiStefano gave him a bright smile. Diana had a feeling Brendan had gotten a lot of those smiles from the moms in the neighborhood. “It’s sweet of you to cover for your brother, but you don’t have to do that. It was such a long time ago. And anyway, what about our rear bumper? And our left tail light? Are you going to say those were your fault too?”
“No.” Brendan looked embarrassed, which Diana was pleased to see. “That was Ian.”
“Exactly. I hope he shapes up soon, for your parents’ sake if not his own.”
“Ian’s fine the way he is,” Diana began, but Mrs. DiStefano was speaking over her.
“Good luck at Yale, Diana. I hope you make the most of it.”
“Thanks. I’ll try.”
“I promised Di a round of ping-pong. Great to see you, Mrs. DiStefano. Happy Fourth.” Brendan walked Diana away with a hand on her back.
“Did you have something to do with the DiStefanos’ car?” she whispered as they approached the ping-pong table. It stood by the fence, away from the people thronging the pool and patio.
Brendan ran a hand over his hair. The gesture was so much like Ian's that she had to stop herself from brushing the hair off his forehead.
“I was in the Jeep. Ian was drunk at the wheel. I'd had a few.”
“I see.”
He shrugged, apology on his face. “Di, I tried just now.”
“Try harder.” Diana crossed her arms.
Brendan's eyes widened. She'd bet every dollar she was paying for the broken glassware that no girl had ever told Brendan to try harder before.
Taking the paddle he gave her, she turned it over. Ian was still busy at the grill, his bronzed chest smudged with charcoal. A few girls clustered around him, trying for his attention. But his gaze flicked away to meet Diana’s, and the hot want there almost knocked her over.
Hiding. She was so sick of hiding. Dammit, she didn’t want secrets anymore. She’d done so much already, but this…
She glanced at Brendan, bouncing the ball against the table with his paddle, his eyes amused again.
“You guys are so in wuv, you make me want to vomit,” he said.
Diana snorted with laughter, fumbling the ball when he served it to her.
“Do it by the fence, okay? Far away from me.” She sent the ball back to him. “Why are all your friends here? I thought the three of us were going to hang out.”
Brendan shrugged. “Sorry. I told one or two people to stop by later before we go out. They came early, they brought a bunch of other people. You know how it goes.”
She didn’t, actually, but now wasn’t the time to point out the differences between her and Brendan’s social life. Did he not want to spend time
with her and Ian? Was this the Brendan version of saying no?
She smacked the ball across the table, keeping an eye on the patio.
Ian was waving a barbecue fork around. He poked it toward one of the girls hovering nearby, and she jumped back with a screech and a laugh. But a second later, his eyes went back to Diana.
“Di,” Brendan began. “This past month — Ian's been the happiest I've ever seen him. You're making him really happy.”
“I’m really happy with him too.” She was also fevered. On Fire. In a daze. “Have you ever felt like you, I don't know, just want to smash into someone and bury yourself and get all smushed together with them?”
Brendan raised his eyebrows. “No.”
“Never?”
“Nope. Not at all. Sounds like you do.”
“You do know I wouldn't talk about this with anyone else, right?” Ian kept drawing her gaze.
“I know, cutie.” Brendan's voice was a little too patient. The ball bounced off the corner of the table. “Eyes on the ball.”
“Don't tease me.” She snatched up the ball from the grass and batted it towards him.
“Why not? He's still Ian who puts his laundry in with mine and leaves his dirty dishes in the sink.”
“Uh-huh,” she said distractedly.
Some kids from the neighborhood were swarming the grill. Ian motioned them to the front of the line and filled their plates. He was making faces at them, and their shrieks of laughter carried across the lawn.
“Aw, he's making those kids laugh,” she sighed.
“Di.” Brendan aimed a pointed look at her cleavage.
Oh shit, her ladybug dress had pulled away from the swell of her breast. One of the hickeys from Ian was peeking out. Fast as she could, she adjusted the tight fabric and scrambled for the ball again. Her breast throbbed, as much from Brendan’s gaze as from Ian’s mark.
“Rough night?” Brendan's dimples showed. Hazel eyes flicked to the heavy curves of her breasts again, less obviously, as if he didn’t mean to look this time.
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