Quest (The Boys of RDA Book 4)

by MEGAN MATTHEWS

  “Well, let us give you a tour of the place.” With both hands on my shoulders Drew turns me around. “As you see the large living room,” he says as we walk toward the kitchen his arm gesturing to the left.

  “Do you often keep the curtains open like that?”

  Drew’s steps stall, and he whips his head to the left looking at the curtains. “Uh… I don’t know.” We share a look between us, and I lift a shoulder in response. He’s on his own for this one.

  Jesse makes a clicking sound like he’s tapped his tongue to the roof of his mouth. “From the way this home is set and the angle your TV is placed, there would be a strong glare in the evening hours from the setting sun. I’m surprised you haven’t noticed it interfering with your ability to watch television.”

  I move my head to the side and view our living room in a whole new way. He’s right. At times in the evening it’s hard to see the picture on the TV.

  “We’ll keep it in mind.” Drew continues his walk into the kitchen obviously not planning out a new living room furniture layout as I am. “It’s your basic kitchen. Between the three of us we share cooking utensils and then we each get one shelf in the fridge and a cupboard for our other goods.”

  Drew finishes his point by opening the empty cupboard assigned to our last remaining roommate.

  “We ask you do your own dishes after you finish cooking.” I throw in to be helpful.

  I flash a smile hoping Drew will see what a help I’m being, but his attention is stolen by Jesse opening the refrigerator door and poking his head in.

  “What temperature do you keep the refrigerator?”

  Drew looks back at me like he’s expecting me to give an answer. “Um… Well I think there’s a thermometer in there… somewhere.”

  Jesse clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth again. “Not having a refrigerator set to the correct temperature can be deadly. Too cold and your foods freeze. Too warm and you’re setting up a party for salmonella.”

  I wring my hands while Drew and I exchange guilty looks. What have I been doing with my adult life? I make a silent pledge to research refrigerator controls tonight as long as we don’t get salmonella poisoning before then.

  “Okay then.” Drew ushers us out of the room.

  We trudge upstairs with Drew leading the way and me keeping up the rear. Jesse stops on a step about halfway up and does two short bounces. I brace waiting for him to turn around and tell us about how deadly our stairs are. Can we have a termite problem in the city? Thankfully, he keeps walking not giving us more helpful knowledge.

  Drew stops and opens the door to the bathroom we share on this floor. Jesse peeks his head in before rubbing a single finger across his jawline.

  “What does the shower schedule look like?” he asks.

  Once again Drew stammers for an answer. “We don’t have one. Everyone takes a shower when they need one.”

  “You mean you don’t have assigned times?” Jesse asks like it’s the worst admission he’s heard his entire life. “How long does the water heater last?”

  This time Drew answers with confidence. “We’ve never had a problem with hot water.”

  “How large is the water heater?”

  Drew’s cocky smile fades. “I don’t know. About your average size.” He uses a hand to indicate a height but keeps moving it up and down not settling in one area. Proof he’s never looked at our water heater.

  I stifle a laugh behind a hand. If he wasn’t so obviously flustered, I’d openly dig on him for not knowing.

  “Do you know, Clare?” Drew asks, obviously aware I’m laughing at him.

  Oh crap. “It’s… well… this big.” I use my hands to make random size estimates like Drew but we know I’m full of shit.

  Jesse clicks his damn tongue again. “At my current place we calculated out how many gallons of water the heater held and how many gallons you used in a five-minute shower and then divided up our time equally. It was the best way to ensure we each had hot water in the mornings.”

  “Five-minute showers?”

  Drew’s mouth drops open. “Yeah, we aren’t going to do that here.”

  “Hmmmm.” Jesse makes the now familiar noise, his lips not moving. He’s obviously not pleased with Drew’s answer, but I agree that sounds like a ridiculous amount of work.

  “Does that work well for you at your current place?” I ask.

  Jesse nods his head excitedly. “Yes. Before we implemented the time controls, getting ready every morning was a nightmare. Since we implemented the timers it’s been fine.”

  I choke on some spit and sputter. “You use actual timers?”

  “Yes, that way I don’t need to stand outside the door and keep track myself.”

  My eyes narrow as I stare at Drew hopeful he catches my look’s meaning. This guy is a crazy person. No way we are living with him. Drew shakes his head, and makes the sign for money, his two fingers rubbing together. I’d rather get a second job than have my showers timed.

  “You have a great system with your current roommates. Why would you want to move?”

  Like we don’t already know the answer to this. He’s obviously crazy and his other roommates have decided he either needs to move out or they’re going to hack his body into pieces and hide him the basement. A decision I’m sure Drew and I will face soon enough if he moves in here.

  “It’s a horrible affair, really.” He clicks his tongue one more time and I envision ripping it out of his mouth. “One of the roommates let his girlfriend buy him a cat. Even though it was expressly stated in the contract no pets. Everyone voted to allow him to keep it, but I can’t live there knowing I’m breathing air from a litter box.”

  Yeah right. I’m sure the ingenious person who brought home the cat knew it would scare off the real-life Sheldon Cooper. Even though I won’t allow Jesse to live with us — I’ll bring home Mittens if need be — Drew takes the time to show him the spare empty bedroom. He even answers his concerns about there not being enough electrical plugs in the room.

  I stay quiet for the rest of the tour sending Mr. Psychopath away with another fake smile. Drew closes the door with a promise to call him soon and I throw a random penny from the kitchen table at him. It hits him in the neck and bounces off, rolling on the floor.

  “What the fuck?” He bats at the penny but much too late.

  “He is not moving in here,” I say like I didn’t attack him with cheap currency.

  Drew bends down and picks up the penny, narrowing his eyes at me. “We don’t have a choice, Clare. We need a new roommate yesterday and trust me when I say he’s the top choice.”

  “Can’t we get a nice normal person?” What serial killer people have applied for this place if he considers Jesse to be the best?

  “Have you looked around the city? No one here is normal. We live on a piece of rock that is one earthquake away from falling into the ocean. And we pay outrageous rents on places that will crumble with us in them when the mother quake hits.”

  I roll my eyes at his ridiculous worry. At times he hates the city, but he’d never consider anywhere else home. “Let’s give it a few more days and see if anyone else applies, please.”

  Drew sighs. “Fine, but it’s going to be Jesse so brace yourself now.”

  “Thanks, dear. I owe you one.” I turn intending to go upstairs.

  “You will owe me more than one. Like five hundred when we need you to cover half of the missing rent next month.”

  “I have a feeling you’ll find someone by then.” I really, really hope he finds someone by then. There isn’t much in my savings account, but if it means one more month without Jesse, I’ll cut the check.

  “Where are you going?” His words stall my steps.

  “Back to bed.” Drew knows I’m not one to sleep away a weekend, but if he’s smart, he’s not going to question it this time.

  “I’ll bring you up bacon for lunch,” Drew yells up the stairs. It’s good to know my best friend understands my
needs.

  “Ice cream! Not bacon.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  I check over the contents of my chest one last time and then close the lid. One plus to lying in bed all day, it’s allowed me plenty of time to stockpile crops in Dragons Reborn. You can’t play the full game in the mobile version, but I’ve been able to harvest crops and make enough cloth to keep me stocked for a while. I tried to con Drew into bringing me his laptop so I could play in bed, but he told me to get my ass downstairs. That option wasn’t appealing, so I suffered through.

  After an hour and dropping my phone on my face twice, I almost gave in yesterday and plugged in the laptop Grant gave me. Every time he’s around he pisses me off so I forget to give it back. The only thing stopping me was the fact it’s still downstairs in our kitchen and I didn’t have the energy to deal with the first floor. Plus, I can’t get attached to the design and super-fast speed because I’m definitely giving it back to him. I need to find a box and then it’s gone.

  If I didn’t care so much for my pride, I’d keep it to spite him. But I don’t want another reminder of Grant in the house. I’m giving myself one more day of sadness over the jerk face and then I’m headed in to work Monday morning to get back to my regularly scheduled life. Heck maybe I’ll say yes to the date John keeps suggesting.

  But probably not.

  My phone beeps, an incoming message timed perfectly to keep me from falling into another Grant sadness spiral.

  SIMONE: Don’t forget today is girls’ brunch!!!

  Even without her in the room I hear the super sweet and excited way she shouts the words. I groan and almost drop my phone. There are two possible outcomes if I go to brunch with the RDA girls today. They will either tell me all the reasons I should get back with Grant, or worse, they’ll plaster on fake smiles and act like nothing happened. Either option sounds horrible.

  CLARE: I’m still in bed. Totally caught the summer cold. There’s no way I can make it. So sorry.

  I lie back and set the phone on my chest waiting for the inevitable reply where she begs me to come. It sounds snotty and I don’t mean it to. I’ve grown to love the RDA girls. Mostly. Over time they wormed their way into my life and now I’d even classify them as friends, but four of them is more than I can handle today.

  Twenty minutes of waiting later, I decide Simone isn’t going to message me back. I guess they decided they didn’t want to fake it with me this week either. What if they picked Grant’s side? I’m sure he’s gone to each one and made me out as the bad person in this ordeal.

  Maybe I am.

  The sounds of multiple feet trudging up our hardwood steps make me bolt up in bed. The elephants running up the stairs cause me to panic. Are we under attack? Is there a fire?

  “Hold it with two hands or you’ll drop it,” a voice belonging to Aspen yells from somewhere in the hallway.

  The door to my room bursts open and slams against the doorstop. Marissa grabs it quickly before it smacks her in the face and bounces into the room like she thinks she’s Simone today.

  “Ummmm…” my question trails off as I watch Marissa, Aspen, Simone, and Amanda pile into my small room. “What are you guys doing?”

  Marissa laughs and drops a large brown sack on the desk. It’s my catchall area. Half the space is cluttered with makeup and the other half with stacks of papers when I use it to catch up on work at home. Marissa pushes a few of the papers to the side and makes room for the two other bags Aspen places beside hers. No one bothering to ask permission.

  “We were already in the area so when you said you couldn’t make it to brunch, we decided to bring brunch to you.”

  One eyebrow falls. “You were in Hunter’s Point?” I have a hard time believing any of these girls were on my side of town. And that’s not taking into account most of them are either dating or married to people whose bank accounts are bigger than my entire block makes in a month.

  “Yup.” Aspen starts in my direction. “We had a feeling you’d be too sick for brunch this week.” She makes air quotes around the word sick and then carries on. “So we planned the brunch deal.”

  I can’t believe the RDA girls played me like this. I’d be more upset but I guess they’ve gotten to know my tactics over the last few months.

  Drew’s head leans past the thresholds of my room, but he doesn’t come in any further. “Sorry, there was no stopping them,” he says. “I’m off to work. See you ladies later.” He gives me a short salute and his head disappears again.

  “He’s working on a Sunday?” Amanda asks her eyes following him out into the hallway.

  I nod my head. “Yes, some people do that.”

  Does she really not realize most regular people often work weekends? I mentally roll my eyes at the thought, but then scold myself for the comments. Amanda’s the one girl not getting it on with one of San Francisco’s richest men, and the girls in my room are normal. They came from middle-class families and had jobs before striking it rich in the boyfriend department. Considering I bumped uglies with another member of the rich boys’ club I don’t have much room to talk. Maybe it’s time to reevaluate my best friend criteria.

  Amanda blushes at my snide comment and I feel even worse. “I know. I thought he worked construction. I didn’t realize they were required to work weekends.”

  Oh. “It’s not a regular job. His boss is getting married and there’s all kinds of drama. Drew’s helping out around the place while everyone adjusts.” There’s more guilt at the end of my answer. I’ve been so wrapped up in things with Grant, I haven’t given Drew’s work issues much thought. It’s been crazy excuses nonstop for the last few months. “Or he’s met a new girlfriend and they’ve been shagging like bunnies.” I shrug. Either option is possible when it comes to Drew.

  Amanda blushes and then becomes overly interested in the light blue flecks in my carpeting. It’s a rather interesting response I decide to file away for later. When I have the time and quiet to think on it.

  “Since it doesn’t look like you’ve gotten out of bed today, I’m assuming our shopping plans for later this afternoon are canceled?” Simone asks eyeing my choice of pajamas. There’s no way the vintage Stanford shirt I’m wearing has escaped her hawk eyes.

  “You ladies feel free to go without me.” I tuck the covers back over myself and wait for them to make an exit.

  “Of course not.” Aspen hops on my bed, bouncing twice.

  “This wasn’t necessary.” I grab the black Styrofoam container Marissa hands me but don’t open it. Once I taste the caramel goodness of the Tahiti French toast – a girls’ brunch staple – they’ll be able to talk me into whatever they want. Caramel, bananas, chocolate, all over a stack of French toast turns me into a softy.

  “Don’t be silly.” Marissa takes a seat on the floor after she passes out the last container. She pops her lid, takes a larger whiff of the breakfast goodness, and sighs. “We can go to the thrift store anytime. This is our day to make our friend feel better.”

  “Thanks, guys, but it’s okay. I don’t expect you to pick sides between Grant and me.” I take the high road, but inside I scream, “Pick me! Pick me!”

  Aspen waves her hand in my direction. “Nonsense. Like we have to decide. It’s you all the way. Grant’s a moron.”

  I laugh a little. The first time I have in days. I’ve never had close girlfriends, but being accepted into their group won’t be bad. It’s not like they given me much of a choice anyway.

  “Do you know I had to sell my car when I moved into Aspen’s old apartment? I found out it was because Grant wanted the second space available for him. He doesn’t even own a car!” Marissa rolls her eyes and takes a bite of food. “Ryland still won’t let me buy a replacement because Grant might need the spot one day.”

  Aspen laughs while chewing and I try not to choke.

  “It’s not funny, Aspen.”

  She sticks her hand out in front of her and swallows. “Are you sure it’s not because Ry doesn’t tr
ust your driving?”

  “I’m a great driver.”

  “He must have a reason,” Amanda joins the conversation. “Remember that time you backed into the cute guy after brunch one Sunday?”

  Marissa’s mouth falls open in exaggerated outrage. “He backed into me.”

  “That is not the way I remember it.” Amanda shakes her head but Marissa only laughs it off.

  “Ladies, focus.” Aspen claps to get everyone’s attention. “This is about Grant’s suckiness. We can share survivor stories with Marissa’s driving later. Today we’re here as Clare’s best friends to bash Grant.”

  Simone pulls down her cute bright pink parka getting serious like she’s walking into a courtroom to present evidence. “I heard he once killed someone because they went back on a deal.”

  “That was in Dragons Reborn, Simone.” Marissa tosses a wadded-up napkin in her direction, but it only makes it about halfway across the floor and then lands on my carpet.

  “It counts!” she counters and then pauses deep in thought. “Plus he’s always stealing food.”

  A resounding chorus of yeses fills my room.

  “One day that boy will grab food off the wrong plate and someone will stab him with a fork.”

  “Come on, Aspen. It’s gonna be me,” Marissa declares, jabbing her fork in a stabbing motion at the air.

  I laugh. They’ve seen Grant’s tendency to steal food, but Marissa’s wrong. If anyone will stab him one day, it will be me.

  My smile slips away as I remember I won’t be the one to take out one of Grant’s fingers because I won’t see Grant again. It’s probably for the best. I imagine the judge wouldn’t see it as food self-defense.

  “You know what we need to do?” Aspen asks, excitedly filling the silence in the room. “Go to a spa.”

  Marissa laughs. “Okay, Ms. Random. Let’s grab a cab.”

  “I don’t mean today. Next weekend. I know a great place.”

  “That’s one I’m definitely going to skip out on, sorry. We’re down a roommate and my budget does not have those kinds of dollars.” I don’t even know what you do at a spa but I can’t afford it.