Page 7 of The Boys Next Door

“Ian,” he said briefly over his shoulder, and sped towards the end of the pool.

Diana groaned. Why did Ian have to show up and ruin her relaxation? And where was Brendan? The kitchen had been messy, but not that messy. Maybe he was avoiding her, figuring he’d fulfilled his social charity work by planting a couple of pity smooches on her and inviting her over to swim.

She tried to ignore Ian as he whooshed past her the other way — he’d always been a fast swimmer — but he was noisy in the water, and the pounding bass vibrated through the pool. As he streaked past her on one lap, then another, it became obvious: he was crowding her, forcing her to move closer and closer to the side of the pool until she barely had room to swim.

Prickling with irritation, she turned abruptly and cut across his path. A hand grabbed her ankle, and she gasped. She could have sworn Ian was on the other side of the pool.

“What are you doing?” she hissed when he surfaced, his fingers still wrapped around her ankle.

It was completely disconcerting, even in the near-dark, to be looking into the same handsome face that had leaned in to kiss her a few hours ago — the same deep dimples, white teeth, and bright hazel eyes.

This was definitely Ian, though. Freckle aside, Brendan’s lips would never be twisted in that mocking half-grin, while she’d been seeing that superior smile on Ian’s face for as long as she could remember. That is, until he stopped smiling at her at all.

Water dripped off his face, and his brown hair was slicked back from swimming. With a jolt, she realized she was too annoyed to be paralyzed with shyness.

“This is my lane,” he said smugly. As she kicked, he let go suddenly, only to grasp her waist. Diana couldn’t help remembering the time Ian had dunked her at the twins’ ninth birthday party — twice — and more irritation surged through her. Without thinking, she grabbed his broad shoulders so he couldn’t push her under.

“You’re crowding me. You did it on purpose.” And he was crowding her now, closer even than Brendan had been in her bedroom. His breath was hot on her cheek.

“Nah. You’re just blind without those stupid glasses on.”

“I can see you just fine,” she snapped. “And I wish I couldn’t. You’re polluting my view. And my eardrums.”

“You’re inmypool.” She could barely see the smirk on his face, but she could definitely hear it in his voice over the waves of music reverberating through the backyard.

“Brendan invited me.” And where the hell was he? “And now I’m drowning in obnoxious punk.” Too pissed to be scared, she glared at him. “And so’s the whole neighborhood. You’re going to get a noise citation.”

“Ooooh, anoise citation,”he mimicked. “Worst thing that’s ever happened to me. I’m so scared. But not as scared as you are, goody-two-shoes who’s never broken a rule.”

“How do you know?” she snapped. “You haven’t talked to me in, oh, six or seven years.”

“I don’t have to. It’s written all over your librarian-on-crack clothes, and your perfect fucking resume that my mom brings up all the time, and the way you walk around like a buttoned-up ice princess who’s better than everyone else. And you haven’t talked to me, either.”

Diana could only stare at him. Her whole body was hot now. Why did he have to be squeezing her waist like his hands had every right to be there, and why wasn’t she telling him to let go? His broad shoulders were smooth under her palms, and so muscular.

“I don’t think I’m better than everyone else.” Her voice dropped. Ian was staring at her, his face much too close to hers. They’d kicked their way out to the middle of the pool, and she felt completely defenseless.

“Did you like it when my brother kissed you?” His voice was low now, too.

Heat rushed to her cheeks. “He told you?”

“We don’t have any secrets from each other.” Ian’s mouth was so close to her ear that his lips brushed her skin. “He told me it was your first kiss.” He squeezed her waist. “And you’re an innocent little girl who doesn’t know what to do with boys.” He pushed her wet hair off her face and gave it a tug. “And you were all alone in your house, too scared to come to our party.”

“Those are my secrets,” she whispered, the air knocked out of her. “Not Brendan’s.”

“Now they’re mine too.” He grinned at her.

Anger and embarrassment stung her throat. Only one way with Ian, she reminded herself:fight back, fight harder.She dug her fingers into his arms, gripping them as hard as she could.

“Why are you such an asshole, Ian?” she snarled.

“Why are you such an uptight little priss?”

“I’m not,” she gritted between her teeth.

“Prove it.”

Oh God. What was happening? She’d leaned forward — she, not Ian. As soon as her lips touched his, he pulled her closer with a low growl. Shocked, she opened her mouth to his tongue as he kissed her roughly. Her head spun. She would have gasped for breath, but Ian’s tongue, hot and determined, didn’t leave her any room to gasp.

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