Page 4 of The Boys Next Door
But she had to admit: if she was sprawled here on her bed now, listening miserably to the good time next door and remembering all the parties she’d skipped because she feared the drinking and noise and what might happen with the wrong guy; the times she’d left, uncomfortable, when her literary magazine friends lit up a joint at someone’s house; the hard fact that she was eighteen and had never, ever kissed anyone — she had to admit that she was also incredibly, undeniably, inescapably horny.
And this wasn’t anything new. She wondered what the guys at school would say if they knew the shy girl who wore her retro dresses buttoned to the collar, wouldn’t dream of getting less than an A, and kept her arms crossed over her breasts had fantasized about fucking most of them. In groups, separately, or in front of an audience.
She’d spent her eighteenth birthday money on a high-quality dildo that arrived in a plain brown package, and God, that thing was good. It only made her long for the real deal even more.
The doorbell startled her. Quickly, she grabbed a robe, pulled it on over her black bra and panties, and ran downstairs, belting the robe tightly before she opened the door.
One of the twins leaned against the doorframe, wearing a pair of blue swim trunks and a big smile. Diana blinked, her eyes darting away, then back to his long bronzed body. His smile was so welcoming that she began to relax. This was Brendan. The cleft in his chin — and the friendly smile — didn’t leave any doubt.
“You’re all alone this weekend,” he said. She caught a whiff of beer on his breath, but he didn’t seem drunk — just relaxed.
“You’re not.” She couldn’t help sounding snippy. She had a life too. Brendan didn’t have to assume that she had no friends — even if she was avoiding them right now to study.
“You shouldn’t be, either. Come on over.”
“No,” she said quickly.
“No?” He raised his eyebrows.
“I’m studying for finals. Not all of us are done with school for the summer.” God, why oh why did she have to get bitchy whenever she managed to talk to an attractive guy?
But Brendan just smiled more broadly. “All the more reason to come over. You need a break. Mom said you’re going to Yale. We should celebrate.”
Her heart was pounding, just like it had when he and Ian had taken her to school almost four years ago. No. She couldn’t handle the party next door. Thirty people she didn’t know, college-aged, drinking and yelling and laughing. Her throat went dry just thinking about it. And here was Brendan, looking at her expectantly.
“Why are you inviting me over when we haven’t talked in years?” she managed, doing her best not to stare at the floor — though she really, really wanted to. Brendan may have been hot in high school, but he was gorgeous now. His face was more chiseled, his body more filled out. His eyelashes were thick and dark, and a soft line of hair divided his hard abs and disappeared into his swim trunks. She forced her eyes to stay on his face.
He looked up at the doorframe, then back at her. “Can I come in?”
“Oh. Uh, sure. Sure.” Quickly, she stepped back as he entered and closed the door behind him. His arm brushed hers, and her stomach lurched. God, she was wearing a bathrobe, and she’d forgotten that until this second.
“I saw you watching,” he said softly.
Blood rushed to her face. So the twin on the patio had been Brendan.
“Sorry,” she whispered.
“Don’t be sorry. I figured you were up in your room studying and wanted to have some fun. So go get your swimsuit.”
Diana blinked at his authoritative tone. He was probably used to telling people what to do — telling girls what to do — and having them listen. The easy confidence in his stance made that much clear. And what’s more, it was making her stomach lurch again. Her whole body prickled.
“I’ll be right back,” she heard herself saying.
As soon as she made it up the stairs, she shook her head in shock. Had she lost her mind? No way was she going over there, and no way in hell was she parading around in front of Brendan — or his friends, or definitely Ian — in a swimsuit. The last time she gone swimming, it had been with her family and she’d worn a giant t-shirt the whole time she’d been out of the pool.
But just out of curiosity, she pulled her swimsuit out of her dresser and tried it on to see if it still fit. It was a retro two-piece, yellow with red trim. The waistband was high, but the top showed plenty of cleavage. The bottoms laced up on both sides, ending in cute little red bows, and the top laced up the middle. The kind of suit she pranced around in for her fantasies, but didn’t have the nerve to show off in real life.
Brushing her bangs to the side, she took off her glasses and turned around in front of her full length mirror, studying the body she’d always considered a liability instead of an asset.
Her curves were almost cartoonish, she thought, like a pinup girl’s and then some, with a narrow waist flaring out to her round hips and ass, and oversized breasts that threatened to spill out of the top of the swimsuit. Without glasses, her big blue eyes looked like a doll’s, she thought disgustedly. Put them together with her pert little nose, her rosebud mouth, and her heart-shaped face, and it was basically a given that she needed to wear glasses to get taken seriously. Her straight dark hair, growing out from the bob, tickled her shoulders.
Even if she had the guts to go next door and lounge on a pool chair like she belonged there, she’d stick out like a sore thumb among the tanned, athletic partiers frolicking across the grass. Her skin was pale, and she stayed as far away from sports as possible.
But for just a second, staring at the mirror, Diana let herself see a pretty girl. A…sexy girl. A hot girl, built for action and ready for a good time. The girl starring in her fantasies, who wasn’t afraid of boys and didn’t worry what might happen if she let go.
A knock on her door made her jump.
“Are you okay?” Brendan’s voice came through the door.