All I've Never Wanted (22 page)

“My-My, come on!” Zack was bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet. “I can’t wait to show you around!” He grabbed my arm and started pulling me to the door.

“I thought this was Roman’s house,” I pointed out, trying not to trip on the steps.

“Yeah, but we’re here so often we know it inside out. And now that you’re living here, we get to see you even more than usual!”

I laughed. I couldn’t help it, Zack was just too cute. Besides, I was glad he’d gotten over whatever he had Wednesday night, though his recovery was suspiciously quick, if you ask me.

“It’s nice to see some people are so chipper in the morning,” Roman grumbled when we reached him.

Now that I was closer, I could see that he’d probably just woken up. His eyes were heavy-lidded and sleepy, there was a pillow crease on his cheek, and his tousled hair was sticking up in all directions. He looked unusually and utterly adorable.

The minute the thought entered my head, I shook it out.
Come on, this is Roman Fiori you’re talking about!
I silently berated myself.
It’s not like he’s a puppy. He’s more like…like a flesh-eating vulture. Or something.

“Good morning to you too,” Adriana said pointedly, coming up behind me. “Didn’t get enough beauty sleep last night?”

Roman just glared at her, completely ignoring me. Well, fine then.

“Hey, is Maya staying in the Greek suite?” Zack asked excitedly.

The violet-eyed boy barely had time to nod before the blond was off again, dragging me with him. “You’re going to
love
your room, My-My!” he shouted over his shoulder, pulling me into the elevator. Of course the Fioris’ had an elevator.

Roman and Adriana barely made it in time before the doors closed. Zack jabbed the “3” button repeatedly.

“No matter how many times you press that, it’s not going to go any faster,” Roman sighed.

“Says who?”

I grinned at Zack’s childishness. “Yeah, says who?” I echoed, unable to resist teasing Roman a bit again.

“Don’t you start with me,” he warned. “Remember you’re staying in my house for two weeks. I run things here.”

I smirked. “Whatever you say,” I agreed sweetly.

The doors opened again, and Zack grabbed my hand to pull me out. I caught a disgruntled look on Roman’s face before I stumbled down the seemingly endless hallway, until I arrived in front of a pair of gold-and-white double doors.

“Go ahead, open it,” Zack encouraged, his eyes shining.

I hesitated, then slowly twisted the knob. I stepped inside, then froze. Blinked. Blinked again. Holy. Crap. If the grounds had been paradise, then this was heaven, only better.

Everything was white and gold, from the gigantic four-poster canopy bed to the intricately carved marble furniture to the floor-to-ceiling drapes that covered the bay windows. The floor was covered with a wall-to-wall white Aubusson carpet that felt soft as clouds (note to self: never eat in this room), and the walls were a pale cream with gorgeous gold flowers delicately hand-stenciled on them.

“Maya Lindberg, welcome to the Greek suite,” Zack announced proudly, like he was showing off his own house.

For the next hour, he showed me around my suite. Yes, it really took that long, because it was
huge.
In addition to the bedroom, there were two walk-in closets, each the size of Manhattan studio apartments; a private bathroom, complete with a glass-doored waterfall shower, swimming-pool-size sunken bathtub, and a Jacuzzi; a balcony that had its own dining area and spectacular views of the Fioris’ lake and gardens; a study nook with a platinum-plated iMac that had the Apple logo in diamonds on top, and finally, a den that consisted of a fully stocked mini fridge, 60” flat-screen TV that came out of the ground with the press of a button, and a monster sound system.

“I don’t know that much about the gadgetry and stuff though,” Zack said at the end, collapsing in a sofa in the den. “Roman will explain that to you.”

I snuck a peek at where the heir himself was leaning against the wall, a bored look on his face. “I’ll do that later,” he muttered. He rubbed the back of his neck. “So, uh, you like your new room?”

I widened my eyes and nodded vigorously, the words getting stuck in my throat. The others laughed at the look on my face. “I love it,” I finally managed, embarrassed.

“Well, I’m glad this all worked out then.” Adriana clapped once, getting our attention. “I propose a nice little dinner party tonight to celebrate!”

“There’s nothing much to celebrate,” I sad, a bit confused.

“Of course there is! Your parents just left you alone for two weeks, which means you can do whatever you want.” Adriana smiled slyly. “Who knows, maybe you and Parker don’t even have to hit that one-month mark to—“

“Why don’t you go and call him and Carlo then?” Roman interrupted, pushing himself off the wall. “See if they can come.”

“Sure. You go tell your chefs the plan,” Adriana agreed with an oddly smug expression on her face.

“Fine,” Roman muttered.

I looked at him, surprised he was being so agreeable. Our eyes met for the briefest second, before he quickly averted his. I felt strangely disappointed. He had barely talked to me all morning.

I hadn’t expected a welcoming party or anything, but after Wednesday night, I expected a bit more…well, friendliness. Looks like that wasn’t going to happen, although I still couldn’t quite believe he’d agreed to me living with him.

Adriana’s voice broke through my thoughts. “Gosh, Carlo seriously needs to answer his phone,” she complained. “This is an emergency!”

I laughed. Of course she would consider a last-minute get-together an emergency. I hoped Carlo could make it though. I missed his company.

*              *              *

Six hours later, I was in the Fioris’ restaurant-sized kitchen, my mouth watering from the delicious smells that enveloped me. The chefs—yes, plural—were doing a fantastic job of whipping up a last-minute dinner for six. In fact, they were doing such a good job I couldn’t help but sneak a shrimp from the tray of shrimp cocktails on the counter. Oh, god, that was good. If I kept eating like this for two weeks, my parents won’t even recognize me when they came back.

“You haven’t even been here for a day and you’re already stealing stuff, huh?”

I snapped my head up to see Roman stroll in, a smirk on his face. He’d changed into a casual button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a pair of jeans. He looked even hotter than this morning.

I wanted to kick myself. When did I start going gaga over his looks like every other girl on the planet?

They probably put something in the shrimp…

“I’m hungry,” I defended myself.

He brushed past me and opened a cabinet, pulling out a box of Pop-Tarts. I tried to ignore the way his arm muscles flexed when he did that, but failed miserably.

“You know dinner’s going to be served in less than an hour, right?”

To my surprise, Roman hopped up and sat on the counter, nearly knocking over the shrimp cocktails. A chef hurried over to pull them out the way.

“An hour’s way too long,” I complained, eyeing his Pop-Tarts.

He took a bite out of his and raised his eyebrows. “Want one?” He held out the box.

Wow, he was actually acting like a normal human being. “Yeah, tha—“ I stopped and scowled when he pulled the box back at the last minute.

Never mind, then.

“That’s mean,” I huffed.

“Never said it wasn’t.” Roman smirked, finishing off his Pop-Tart.

I frowned. For someone so refined in public, he was kind of a pig in his own house. “I never figured you for a Pop-Tart person. Don’t you usually snack on caviar or the heads of the people you annoy to death or something?”

“Usually, but they get stale after a while,” he responded blithely, tearing open another package.

I stared at him, shocked he didn’t respond with his usual snarky sarcasm. “D-did you just make a joke?” I stuttered.

Roman stared at me blankly. “No, I was serious.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. Who knew he had a sense of humor? He was pretty good at keeping a straight face too. “Nice one.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Roman hopped off the counter and tossed the box of Pop-Tarts at me.

I let out a yelp, managing to grasp it just in time before it hit the floor.

“Knock yourself out,” he called over his shoulder. “Just don’t spoil your dinner, or Anthony will be furious. You don’t want to make him mad.”

I glanced over at where the head chef was methodically slicing vegetables. I gulped when I saw him shred a cucumber into a million different slices in less than thirty seconds, then quickly put the Pop-Tart box back into the cabinet and ran after Roman.

“Hey! Stop leaving me behind, I’ve already gotten lost five times,” I said, a bit annoyed.

Zack and Adriana had gone home earlier but were coming back for dinner. I wasn’t sure if Parker and Carlo would be able to make it though.

Roman did look at me as he continued to wind his way through the mansion’s seemingly endless halls. “You seemed to have found the kitchen ok.”

“I just have a good sense of smell,” I muttered. “It would’ve been nice if you could’ve showed me around though. Just a little bit.”

He stopped and looked at me with yet another smirk. “That desperate to spend more time with me, huh?”

My mouth flopped open at his audacity, which only caused his smirk to grow more. “Wh—no!” I resisted the urge to stamp my foot childishly. “I would just like to be able to get around this house without getting lost for the next two weeks!”

Roman rolled his eyes. “Chill out, I’ll show you around later. Besides, there’s a map in your room.”

Yeah, too bad I couldn’t read maps. I mean, no one uses them anymore now that Google Maps exist.

We started walking again, and I made sure to stay close in case he tried to ditch me. When I tried exploring by myself earlier, I’d ended up in an art gallery filled with paintings that were even creepier than the Mona Lisa. I don’t care what anyone says about that being a great piece of art, because the way her eyes follow you around is just creepy.

With my luck, I’ll probably have a nightmare about it tonight.

“Are Carlo and Parker coming tonight?” I asked hopefully, when it became clear he wasn’t going to voluntarily speak anytime soon.

Roman sighed. “Don’t worry, your boyfriend will be here. As for Carlo, who knows?”

“Aren’t you his friend?”

“I’m his friend, not his mother.” He gave me a droll look. “Besides, aren’t you his friend too?”

Well, he had a point.

“I’m sure he’ll be here. He’s probably just busy,” Roman finally said, noting the look on my face. “Maybe he’s planning Adri’s birthday present.”

I blinked. “Is it coming up?”

“It’s a week after homecoming.”

“Really?” I was stunned, mainly because neither had mentioned it and because I’d expected someone like Adriana to start planning her celebration months in advance. “Why would Carlo be planning it?”

He sighed, looking aggravated. “Because we surprise her with a big present every year, and we alternate the planning. She’s the only girl in the group, so it’s kind of hard for us to know what she wants. This year is Carlo’s year.”