She shrugs. “It will be a little uncomfortable at first like when…”
We still walk on eggshells sometimes when it comes to mine and Ethan’s past relationship, even though Blanca and Ethan are together now.
“I know, but there’s no relationship between Adrian and me, so there shouldn’t be any fights or anything.”
Rian nods, but I can tell she’s worried. “I guess I should go meet him and get to know him a bit.” She stands and heads for the door.
Before Rian can open it, Blanca almost plows me over with her arms wrapped tight around me. “Be careful, okay? He has those family obligations he’ll never walk away from, and I’m sure there’s no Sandsal version of Barbara Walters you can replace there.”
“I will.”
“I do expect a full report on the sex at a later date though.” Blanca smiles, releasing me.
“Definitely,” Rian adds. “And if you have sex, do it in your bedroom. That way you’re at least a room away.”
I grin. “Noted.”
I couldn’t ask for better friends.
We walk out of the bedroom to find Adrian on the couch with a beer in his hand, sandwiched between Enzo and Carm, Blanca’s brothers. They hammer question after question at him about his royal life. Bella sits next to Carm, perched on the arm of the couch in rapt attention as her boyfriend rubs her ass as though there’s no one else in the room.
Val and Annie talk at the kitchen table while Val eats the last of the oatmeal scotchie cookies Rian made a few days ago.
Dom approaches Blanca. “Are we ordering food? Val needs fuel for the baby.”
“I can order something.” Blanca goes to the drawer with the menus. “What do you want?”
“Don’t mind your brother. I’m fine. These are good.” Val holds up half-eaten cookie.
“Babe, the baby needs something besides sugar,” Dom says.
She leans back and rubs her belly. “Sugar makes baby happy.” She takes his hand and rests it on her swollen belly. His face lights up with a smile that probably matches mine at the moment.
“Is she kicking?” Annie’s hand shoots across the table.
“Who said it’s a she?” Dom asks.
Annie laughs. “A hunch.”
“Mama thinks it’s a boy, but I think that’s wishful thinking,” Blanca chimes in.
I stare at the Mancini family. A family I always wanted to be a part of. Ethan swings his arm over Blanca’s shoulder and kisses her cheek.
“Oh, I felt it!” Annie screeches, earning Enzo’s attention for a moment. “The little girl is kicking.”
“Watch it, Annie,” Dom warns with the same razor edge tone he’s had since we were younger.
“Don’t talk to my fiancée like that.” Enzo stands.
Adrian and Carm turn around. Adrian’s gaze meets mine, and as the Mancini family do what they do best—bicker—I’m lost in the sea of blue in his eyes.
Will I be able to get through two months without falling head over heels in love with this man? What did I sign myself up for?
Chapter Ten
Adrian
I’m used to having my own space. Not that I’m not enjoying spending time with everyone, but I thought that moving in with Sierra meant Sierra and Rian. After Blanca’s family left, the three guys from across the hall never left unless it was to grab something and come right back. And Blanca and Ethan keep coming by to ask for a screwdriver or a hammer or some other tool.
The buzzer from downstairs sounds and Rian answers it since she’s in the kitchen. From what I can tell, she’s always doing something in there, whether it’s cooking, baking, or cleaning. If this was my apartment, my friends would assume she was my servant.
“I have a delivery for Athos Dumas,” the crackling voice of a woman says through the speaker.
“Oh, I’m sorry—”
“That’s me.” I stand and all eyes land on me.
Rian’s head tilts, but she presses the button. “Come on up.”
“Athos Dumas?” Sierra asks from her spot on the couch.
“It’s my fake name for hotels and stuff. It’s a nod to the Three Musketeers. Don’t ask.”
“You have to check in under a fake name like movie stars?” Seth asks, his jaw slightly open. “Do women stand outside your hotel room, chanting your name?” His smirk says he can’t imagine that’s the truth.
“Women never chant my name, no. But after my grandfather was assassinated by some woman’s spiked heel in his throat, all the men in our family have to use pretend names at hotels. And any woman who enters our room must be barefoot.”
“Spiked heel to the throat?” Seth asks, wide-eyed.
Sierra says nothing, but she knows I’m lying. Which makes me wonder if she’s aware of the fact that my grandfather is alive and celebrating his seventy-fifth birthday next year.
“Yes, there was blood everywhere. My grandmother thought it was his mistress. The press was all over it.”
“Seriously?” Seth asks.
“No.” I shake my head, and it takes a moment for him to realize I was lying.
“Bastard. I thought for sure you were telling the truth. It was going to make me look at those sexy spiked heels differently the next time I see them on a hot woman.”
“No, it wouldn’t,” Sierra says, hitting him in the thigh with her foot.
He shrugs. “Probably not. You should pick a cool name to go by.”
“You should’ve used Ben Jergen Hoff,” Dylan says, laughter sputtering out of him.
The rest of the gang joins in.
“And your girlfriend can be Ivana Humpalot,” Seth adds.
“I went to college with a guy named Ben Dover,” Rian says from the kitchen.
Dylan slaps his thigh and points at her while he laughs. Her cheeks redden.
“What about Willie Stroker?” Knox points at Seth and he points back, almost spitting out his beer.
“I forgot about that guy. I always felt bad for him,” Seth says once he’s swallowed the beer in his mouth.
“He should’ve gone by Bill Stroker, or really just anything else.” Knox sips his beer, shaking his head as if the guy is in the room.
“That’s what I’ll never understand. Why wouldn’t these people change their names?” Dylan asks. “Not to mention, do parents never think about their kids going to high school?”
They all laugh, and I look around at the group. I like the way they’re so close.
A knock sounds on the door, and I open it to find three bags and a woman heaving for a breath. Her dark hair is pulled back in a ponytail under a black baseball cap.
“Want some water?” I ask her.
“Thanks.” She steps in.
Rian grabs a bottle from the fridge, hands it to me, and I pass it on to her. I dig into my pocket to get her some money for a tip, but she waves me off.
“I’ve already been tipped by the guy. Oh.” She nods as if she just remembered, digging into her back pocket. “He told me to give this to you.”
The envelope is white and thick. I should send Jean a huge thank you since my parents have denied me all access to family money.