Dominick was in the middle of straightening up his room when his phone rang with his weekly call with his mother.

It was the phone call where his mother made sure he was aware of the many sacrifices the family made for him to go to Florida Southern. In exchange, he would give a breakdown of his grades. They were all A’s, of course—anything less than that was unacceptable. The fact that he’d never made a B didn’t deter his parents from checking in on him. Dominick had assumed the progress reports would stop eventually, but after almost three years away at college, his mother was still calling like clockwork.

His grades were important after all, and his mother wouldn’t let him forget that anything less than A’s would mean the end of his college career. Or at least the end of his time at a pricey private college in central Florida. The second his grades dropped, he’d be back to the northern part of the state and applying for a community college. Not that there was anything wrong with that, in fact, that had been his plan through most of high school. But he’d wanted to be here at Florida Southern ever since he found out the campus had an extensive collection of Frank Lloyd Wright architecture.

And beyond the campus, he just loved being in Central Florida. The winters were milder, he was close to both the gulf beaches and the east coast beaches, and Lakeland was on the verge of becoming a hipster paradise.

Not that Dominick was a hipster by any stretch of the imagination. But he enjoyed the many small businesses that had popped up around town even in the few years he’d been there.

No, he wouldn’t let his grades suffer because he had no intention of moving back home.

“Talk to you soon, Nicky,” his mother said through the receiver. Dominick groaned. Oh, how he hated that nickname. It was everything he didn’t want to be—it felt childish every time his mother used it.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

“Bye, Mom,” he said quickly before hitting END on his phone. Dominick looked over at his roommate Conrad and lifted his brows. "Are you expecting anyone?"

Conrad shook his head, not taking his eyes from the TV. He'd been playing video games all afternoon and hadn't left his bed for several hours. Dominick was used to the behavior by now, and knew Conrad wouldn’t move off his butt to answer the door unless it were a hot pizza or a hot girl (though the first was more likely in Conrad’s case). So Dominick set his textbooks aside and went to see who was knocking so frantically.

When Dominick opened the door, he came face-to-face with the self-proclaimed Date Maker. Her blond hair was tied back in a ponytail, and she carried a large bag filled with oversized envelopes.

"Hey, Morgan,” Dominick said and looked back to where Conrad sat. He wore a pair of workout shorts, and nothing else. But his roommate's state of undress was the least of Dominick's concerns. The dorm was an utter mess… well, half of it was. There were empty food containers on Conrad's desk, an overflowing trash can, and dirty boxers on his roommate’s side of the floor.

No matter how tidy Dominick was, it never made up for the tornado that seemed to perpetually strike the other side of the room. It didn’t matter that Dominick’s underwear were in the drawer like they were supposed to be, Conrad's mess always seemed to overshadow everything else.

Dominick and Conrad were opposites in all the worst ways. It was a miracle a small friendship blossomed between them at all. But it had Freshman year, and the two had agreed to be roommates until graduation. That didn’t make the mess any less embarrassing to Dominick.

"Do you want to come in?" He opened the door allowing Morgan to enter, his pride warring with his sense of hospitality.

"I can't," she answered. "I just wanted to drop off your match. I'm so excited to have found someone for you, and I think you're going to love the date."

She held out one of the over-sized envelopes from her bag. On it was his name, written in delicate cursive. He pushed his dark-rimmed glasses back up his nose and took it from her.

"I'll be calling you in about two weeks to see how everything went. Thanks for using the Date Maker."

With those words, she was racing down the hall like some kind of fairy godmother on steroids. He didn't want to think about how many dates she was setting up that day. If her bag was filled entirely with envelopes like the one he held in his hand, Morgan was setting up half the campus with one another.

Dominick closed the door and was surprised when silence greeted him. The sound of gunshots and angry cussing was absent. In its place was a curious Conrad. He looked up at Dominick with a mix of curiosity and humor.

"Was that Morgan?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows.

Dominick nodded. He'd been one of the first people to sign up for the Date Maker service. Morgan promised to find a match for everyone, or your money back. Not only that, she planned the first date.

"Is that what I think it is?" Conrad asked, looking strangely excited about something that wasn’t food or video games.

Again, Dominick nodded.

"Dude! Why aren't you more excited?"

"I am excited," he answered. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I’m totally excited.”

"Then open it up. Let's see if you got a good one."

"Did it occur to you I might want to open it in privacy?"

Conrad stood up, moving closer to Dominick, narrowing his eyes. "Why would you want privacy? Wait, don't tell me you want to…"

"No!" Dominick yelled, not wanting to know how Conrad planned to finish that sentence. "Maybe it's because you're referring to my date as a ‘good one.' Have you ever considered your general attitude toward women is why Morgan didn't have an envelope for you?"

"Not cool, dude." Conrad’s body sagged, causing Dominick to relax his posture. He was about to tell Conrad he was sorry when his roommate raced over, grabbed the envelope, and held it out of his reach.

"Give it back." Dominick tried to grab it away but was several inches shorter than Conrad. He jumped a couple of times, feeling very much like a small child on the playground who’d just had his lunch money stolen.

When Conrad hopped onto his bed, Dominick put his arms down. He sat down on his own mattress and waited for the inevitable.

"It’s mine now, Nicky. Let's just see who we have here..." Conrad tore at the envelope and threw it aside. In his hands were a piece of paper and a photograph. Dominick couldn't see what his date looked like. He couldn’t see anything to give him insight into the date. The fact that Conrad got the first glimpse was more than just a little frustrating.

He looked at Conrad's face. His roommate’s mouth pulled into a frown and his brows lifted in sympathy as he pulled his gaze from the picture and toward Dominick. "Sorry, man."

"Sorry? What do you mean sorry?" Dominick jumped off his bed. He seriously considered getting up onto Conrad's to try to grab the papers out of his hand once more. But he stood on the ground looking up at him instead.

"She's a butter-face."

Butter-face?

Dominick sighed. "What exactly is a butter-face?"

"Everything looks good…but her face." A slow grin spread across his face as he shook his head slowly.

That was exactly the kind of thing Conrad would find funny. Dominick was less amused. He didn't like to think of himself as the superficial type, but was his date really that bad looking? Conrad wasn’t exactly the most discerning when it came to the opposite sex.

"You’re kidding," Dominick said, and instantly began imagining some kind of birth defect, or maybe an accident leaving his match’s face covered in scars.

The shame came almost immediately—because he knew it shouldn’t matter—but not before Conrad had seen his initial reaction.

"See?" Conrad gloated still atop his mattress. "I knew you weren't as perfect as you like to pretend. You would have been pissed if she was ugly."

"No, I wouldn't have."

"Don't worry." Conrad jumped down. "The chick's actually pretty smokin'. If it doesn't work out, make sure to let me know. Maybe I'll try my luck."

He winked and handed the photograph to Dominick before going back to his game. In no time, Conrad had his headset on and was cursing through the small microphone attached to it.

Dominick took a deep breath, and used the brief moment of privacy to look down at the paper and photograph in his hands. When he saw his match, a girl named Harmony, he couldn't contain the smile on his face. He'd seen her several times at one of the many local coffee shops, constantly working behind the espresso machine. She never seemed to run the register, which meant they hadn’t spoken a day in their lives, but Dominick had always thought she was beautiful, even before knowing she was his perfect match.

In the picture, she had dark hair that fell just below her shoulders, wide eyes, and full lips curved into a smile. Harmony was at the coffee shop in the photograph, and Dominick wondered if she had been working when it was taken.

How did someone like him end up with someone like her? He was awkward with ladies and shy to a fault. It was why he had jumped at the chance to use the Date Maker. Harmony, on the other hand, seemed to be the popular type—always dressed nicely, always confident— and that made her unobtainable.

Dominick felt like he'd just won the lottery.

That was until he examined the other piece of paper. When he read the outline of the date, his heart sank. He was supposed to take Harmony to a fancy restaurant for dinner. It was downtown and had the reputation for being very expensive. He was at school on a generous scholarship. Hadn't he told Morgan that during the interview process? A date to the park, or even the food truck rally, would have been a much more affordable option.

But there was more. After the date, the two of them would be going to a painting class. Him? A painter? The idea was laughable. Even though it was one of those places that walked you step-by-step though the painting, Dominick would be lucky if he managed to draw a straight line.

He looked at Harmony's picture again. Going out of his comfort zone would be worth wooing a girl of this caliber. And if that meant spending his meager savings to do so, so be it. Not every date would be an expensive one. Deep down, he knew that. The initial one just had to be special.

He should be thanking his lucky stars Morgan hadn't sent them off to Universal Studios or some other theme park. He'd heard something like that was a possible date with the Date Maker service, but had no idea how he would have paid for it had Morgan decided that was where he and Harmony would go.

"Does the silence mean you're happy?" Conrad's voice called out, breaking his train of thought.

Dominick chuckled to himself. “I’m surprised you could hear anything but the yelling in your headset.”

More gunfire rang out from the television. "Nah, I'm not really listening to the chatter right now. I'm more interested in whether or not you're calling dibs on the coffee shop hottie."

"I hate to break it to you, Conrad. But there is no way I'm passing up a date like this."

"Then I hope you plan to bring your A-game because a girl like that is going to expect it."

Oh, Dominick planned to bring it. He just had to figure out what it was and how one brought it on a date.

If only he had the same good looks and easygoing attitude as his roommate, he wouldn't have to worry about how the date would go. It would go perfectly. But Morgan hadn't set Conrad up with Harmony. She’d set Dominick up with her.

That had to mean something. Didn't it?