Harry’s gaze raked over his apartment. Gone was the undignified mess of laundry, old soda cans and text books. The dirty dishes had been washed and stashed in the cabinet, the magazines neatly stacked. Gina was a smart girl, a good student. She’d appreciate his tidiness, think he was like her.
And if they made it to his bedroom, she’d recognize a kindred spirit in his neatly-made bed, organized CD collection, and clean floor.
He could do nothing about Roger’s bedroom, but his roommate didn’t matter. The door was shut and Roger was gone for the weekend. With luck, Gina would stay the whole time. He sat back and grinned. Five more minutes until she arrived.
Gina stepped into Harry’s apartment and nearly gagged. The place smelled like rotting garbage. The small living room was uncluttered, but the dust on the end table was thick enough to draw in, and there were stacks of magazines and books in every corner.
Large stains of indeterminate origin dotted the once-beige carpet, competing with similar stains on the threadbare couch.
She turned to Harry and forced a smile. “Thanks for loaning me your book,” she said, handing back the French textbook she’d borrowed the previous day. “I finally got mine out of my roommate’s car.”
“No problem,” he said, a grin lighting up his handsome face. “Would you like something to drink?”
Yikes! “Um, thanks, but I have to get going. I’m meeting a friend in a few minutes.” Or she would be, as soon as she called one.
His smile sagged, but he nodded and held the door. “Sure. Maybe next time.”
“Yeah.” Maybe never.
Gina escaped into the hall and took a deep breath. Note to self: no study dates with Harry.