Chapter 125 Gardenia

• Ambrose's place is a fifteen-minute walk from campus, in a pale brick apartment building on the outskirts of town. Inside, it's a lot like his office. Clean and masculine, with dark wood furniture and lots of light. Green, leafy houseplants and thick, patterned drapes.
• But there's more of him, too–classic movie posters framed on the walls; bookcases filled with battered paperbacks rather than those leather tomes; a casually tossed remote and an abandoned empty mug.
• "Be honest with me." I toe my sneakers off by the door. My backpack lands on the floorboards with a thump. "Did you clean before asking me here?"