Page 64 of The Boys Next Door

“That’s not true, Di,” Brendan said quietly.

The car had stopped. She recognized the maple trees from the window, even lying down. They were in front of her house.

Ian let out a long exhalation. “Diana, can we please just sleep this off and talk tomorrow?”

“No, Di, we shouldn’t leave you,” Brendan cut in. “Let us stay with you ’til morning — or you can sleep over at our house and I’ll explain to your parents—“

That was an explanation she’d like to see Brendan give her mom. But hearing the twins disagree — they’d always worked together, so seamlessly she’d barely been aware of it — made up her mind.

“I need to be alone.” Fuck, her voice was shaky. She didn’t want to be alone — no, she wanted it more than anything else — she had no idea what she wanted right now. “For awhile. Don’t call me, Brendan. And Ian, I don’t need to say that to you because you never have.”

Now she did manage to look at both twins as she climbed out of the Jeep. They were still masculine. Still good-looking. But worn. Brendan leaned his forehead against the open window frame, shadows under his eyes. Ian, in the back, did look like shit warmed over. Hair sticking up everywhere, heavy-lidded eyes staring back at her, and she just wanted to grab him and drag him up to her room and fall asleep with her head on his shoulder.

“You know, Di,” Brendan said quietly. “It’s a lot of work to try to make everyone happy.”

Diana rubbed her eyes. The maple trees rustled overhead. It was either way too late at night or way too early in the morning.

“Is that your job? Along with talking for Ian?” Who she couldn’t look at again, and who wasn’t saying a word from the back.

“One of them.”

“Maybe you should find some new jobs.” She slammed the car door and made her way inside her dark house without glancing back. Behind her, the Jeep’s engine turned over, the only sound in the sleeping neighborhood beside the chirp of the crickets.

*

After a few hours of tossing and turning, Diana folded her pillow over and punched it, glaring at the cheerful early morning light pouring through her window.

No one would climb through that window now. No twin would make the branches shake outside as he clambered up, beaming, with a naughty graduation gift in a brown paper bag, or wrapped in shadow, refusing to tell her who he was. She’d made damn sure of that in the Jeep, when she’d been too upset to think straight.

It was ridiculous to have her feelings hurt, she knew. After all, she’d been with both twins. She’d picked up those girls right along with them. Her body clenched with sharp arousal, remembering. And honestly, if she had a do-over card for last night, she’d do it all again, except for the last half hour. But that didn’t ease the hollow in her chest.

She buried her face in her pillow, mashing it against the cotton. Brendan and Ian were players. She’d been an idiot to hope for more. Naive to think all that bullshit Ian had spouted on graduation night about her being beautiful and perfect actually meant anything besides wanting to get his dick up her ass. He’d probably done that with a hundred girls and knew exactly what to say.

But she couldn’t stop hearing their voices in her head:It’s always Brendan’s idea. It’s a lot of work to try to make everyone happy.Was this how the twins went through life — getting into scrapes together, Ian taking the blame, Brendan taking care of the cleanup?

She kicked at her covers. She wasnotgoing to feel sorry for them, even though she knew, deep down, she’d been unfairly mean in the car. Hurt their feelings. She wanted to make things right, but she didn’t have the first idea how.

When the doorbell rang, she pulled her pillow over her head. Didn’t the world know not to make loud sounds right now?

Her mother’s enthusiastic “Brendan!” carried through the plump down. Oh boy.

“Diana’s resting right now, but I’ll tell her you’re here. How late did you boys keep her out last night? I hope Ian didn’t give her anything to drink.”

“No, Mrs. Cooper, he didn’t. Don’t worry.” That deep voice was definitely Brendan’s, but he sounded subdued. “Let Diana sleep. I don’t want to bother her.”

Diana sighed, heaved the pillow across the room, padded to her door, and opened it.

“Brendan can come up,” she called down the stairs, then hesitated. “If he wants to.”

There was a pause, followed by low voices. Then the floor creaked. Diana blinked at the bulk of Brendan’s body coming up the stairs. Her hair was still saturated with smoke, some other girl’s perfume clung to her skin, the pink camisole and boy shorts she’d managed to pull on before tumbling into bed were stuck to her sex-scented body with sweat, and she’d thought this was a good idea why?

But Brendan was already in her room. Closing the door with a soft click behind him, he looked around for a place to sit in a way that made it very obvious he was avoiding her bed. Diana noticed something tucked under his arm.

“Hey.” She gestured to herself. “I know. I need to shower.”

“Yep. You do.”

A hint of a smile flashed across Brendan’s face, the cleft flickering in his chin, but Diana couldn’t help noticing: this was the first time she’d seen Brendan not trying to be charming. She’d never fully realized how much the charm was on — day, night, awake or asleep. Always, since they’d been kids. Now, he just looked tired. Diana wondered if he’d slept as badly as she had. And Ian—

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