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I followed them up to the second floor. I expected it to be bedrooms, but these were more communal rooms with hardwood floors. One was a skinny room which ran the length of the building, with a little wooden desk at one end and more sofas in the middle. A few laptops were scattered on the coffee table, connected to power cables that snaked underneath the sofa.
“We call this the office, but only because that’s what Braden’s grandma called it,” Dorian explained. “Mostly I come here to watch Netflix when I want to get away from the others.”
“Uh,” Braden said, “correction: you come here when we won’t let you watch soap operas on the TV downstairs.”
“Riverdale is not a soap opera!” Dorian protested, giving his man-bun an angry squeeze. “It’s my guilty pleasure.”
“Your guilty pleasure. Which is why we banish you up here.”
Dorian rolled his eyes and led me down to the end of the office, which opened into another room. He didn’t need to tell me what this was.
“A library!” I said as I gazed around the walls, which were covered with bookshelves filled with books. I couldn’t see the walls in here because the bookshelves had been built to the room’s size, with cut-outs for the two windows that gave a view out the back.
Braden fist-pumped and gave Dorian a triumphant look. “What?” I asked.
“I call it the study,” Dorian muttered. “The others insist it’s the library.”
“And more important, we made a bet on the subway as to which you would call it. I won.”
I gave Dorian a sympathetic smile. “I like study, too.”
Braden shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. You called it a library, which means I win.”
Dorian reached into his pocket, fished out a twenty dollar bill, and crumpled it up in his fist. He tossed it at Braden, who snatched it out of the air.
I went to one of the windows and drew back the curtain. A sizable portion of the sky was visible, not blocked out by the surrounding buildings. The garden below was a small outdoor patio space with vines and bushes covering the fence for privacy. Even though it was only ten feet by ten feet, that was a huge luxury in the city.
The third floor held two master bedrooms, each with their own adjoining bathroom. “I’m in this one,” Braden said, “while Andy has the one across the hall. Upstairs are the others.”
I gawked at the size. Two bedrooms here, more upstairs. This was unreal.
The fourth floor was laid out like the third, with two large bedrooms. The only difference was they shared a bathroom in the hall, and had larger closets. I stuck my head in one. The bed was a mess of sheets, and boxes of electronics equipment filled one long wall. Tools were scattered across the floor.
“Who’s the slob?” I asked.
Braden snickered. “That would be Ryan. He’s quiet, though, unless he’s in a pissy mood.” He gestured. “That makes this your bedroom.”
I blinked as I stepped into the other room on the fourth floor. It had a double bed with a maroon-colored comforter on top. The bedside tables held picture frames and other small belongings, and the dresser on the other side of the room had a stack of clothes on it.
I must have looked confused because Dorian said, “It was my room, but I’ll be bunking with Andy downstairs while you’re here.”
“No,” I protested. “I didn’t want to kick anyone out…”
Dorian put his hands on my shoulders and shook his head. “No way. We want you to feel at home here. The only reason my stuff is still here is because we didn’t know you were going to accept so quickly.”
“There’s no use arguing,” Braden said. “This is your room now. Or at least, it will be once all Dorian’s stuff is moved out and yours is moved in. Speaking of which, when do you plan on bringing your stuff over? I don’t know how much you have, but I’ve got a buddy with a truck if we need…”
I laughed out loud. “Pretty much everything I own can fit in a pair of duffel bags. I can shuttle them here in a trip or two.”
“Absolutely unacceptable!” Dorian declared, jabbing his finger in the air like a debate coach making a point. “You have four strong roommates to help you now.”
I arched an eyebrow. “Are you saying I’m not strong?”
He bowed at the waist. “The emphasis of my argument is on the math of the situation, not your capability. Five helpers is better than one.”
“I’ll gladly accept the help, then.” I pointed at the window on the other side of the bed. “Why is that cracked open?”
Braden shot Dorian a look. Dorian held out his hands.
