Page 42 of Hound Dog
Enzo rolled her eyes. “That’s not possible. His list offriends,or rather,friends with benefits,is so damn long, I don’t even thinkheknows all the names.”
Pressing my mouth together, I kicked her under the table. Enzo grunted, then realizing what she’d said, her eyes went wide. “Oh. Oh shit. I’m sorry. Is this a date or something?”
“No,” I said.
At the same time, Haylee snorted. “Hardly.”
Enzo and Addy exchanged glances. “So, howdoyou know each other, then?”
It was our turn to share a look. Haylee’s wide brown eyes met mine, brow arching in a challenge.Shall you answer, or should I?
With a nod, I gave her the floor and took another sip of my beer.
“Well, Finn almost deflowered me on the roof of the old mill six years ago.”
And just like that, beer shot out of my nose.
Sour beer out the nostrils? Burns like a motherfucker.
“Ew,” Enzo said, scrunching her nose and taking another sip of wine.
Meanwhile, Addy merely smirked. “Hell yeah. What’s your poison, new girl?”
“Dirty vodka martini,” she said with a smile toward Addy.
Addy flipped her fire-engine-red hair to the other side of her head. “You got it. Just no more sex talk about my brother.”
Haylee snorted. “Done. Please note that I saidalmostdeflowered. So, there’s not anything more I can add to that conversation anyway.”
“Good for you,” Addy said. “You might be the only girl in a fifty-mile radius who’s ever said no to this guy. We don’t call himHound Dogfor nothing.” She ruffled my hair as she walked past me back behind the bar.
Haylee met my eyes, the apples of her cheeks flushing pink. Only she and I knew the truth… thatshedidn’t say no, but I did.
Not that my sister would even believe us if we told her that.
Nope. In this town, once a hound dog, always a hound dog.
I couldn’t even argue with them because it was true. The only time in my life I’d tried to do the right thing was with Haylee.
And she hated me for it.
Chapter Twelve
Haylee
“So, this hotdog thing,”Addy asked, staring pointedly at Finn, “that’s the real deal?”
I actively avoided her gaze, instead choosing to focus on the tipsy woman singing “You Don’t Own Me” on the stage.
Thank God she was directing that question to him. I was a terrible liar. And already, sitting here at this karaoke bar, I found myself caught in two lies. The first being that I’d been the one to turn Finn down—okay, that wasn’t exactly a lie as much as it was an omission of truth—and now this hotdog thing.
But Finn was cool as a cucumber as he sipped his beer and looked his sister square in the face. “What do you mean?”
Addy’s gaze narrowed. “You seriously want to sell hotdogs?”
He shrugged. “Why’s that so weird? Liam opened a food truck.”
“Yeah, because Liam loves baking and cooking. He makes a menu from scratch daily. Are you grinding up these hotdogs or doing anything special with them? And I thought youhatedhotdogs?”
