Page 61 of Hound Dog
Haylee, how do you like the conservatory? Your aunt bought that old house on the lake. Crazy. Maybe I’ll see you over your Christmas break?
Finn Evans:
February 23, 2016
Are you mad at me? This is Haylee Rogers, the singer, right? It’s not like some old guy catfishing me? Then again… to catfish, you’d actually have to message me back.
Finn Evans:
May 2, 2016
Okay. I can take a hint. I hope you have a good life, Haylee Rogers. Don’t stop marking off that bucket list.
The popcorn explodedin the microwave, the popping sound startling not only me but also the dogs, sending them into a fit of barking.
I clenched my phone, and my thumb accidentally slid over the little video camera icon.
My camera turned on, and suddenly, a very unflattering upshot view of myself filled the screen as the video conference rang.
Oh. My. God.
I wasvideo callingFinn.
At two in the morning.
Nooooooo.
“Oh my God, oh my God,” I whispered as I scrambled to hang up before he woke up orGod forbidanswered.
This wasn’t happening. I didnotjust video chat a guy that I was clearly stalking at two in the morning. I groaned and buried my face in my hands.
Not even twenty seconds later, my phone started ringing.
Video call with Finn Evansblinked in italics across the top of the screen.
Well, crap.
Could I get away with not answering? Could I claim I was sleeping and rolled onto my phone? Except that would still mean I’d been looking at his profile just before falling asleep.
Wincing, I did the only thing I could think of… I hit the green answer button.
Annoyingly, even sitting up in bed, groggy, with messy hair, he was still the hottest man in the world. Dang it, that wasn’t even fair.
He squinted into the camera, like the dim light beside him had just been turned on, and ran his palm over his face where stubble peppered his jaw.
“The way I see it,” he said, and holy hell, his voice was even sexier with the morning rasp, “you either just butt-dialed me at two in the morning, or there’s some horrid emergency. I figured I should call back and make sure you were okay.”
I couldn’t help my grin.
Outside, crickets were deafeningly loud, singing their chirping song, and a cool breeze drifted in through the open window. “You think if I was having an emergency, I’d video chat you via social media rather than call 9-1-1?”
His grin made my heart pound faster. “Butt-dial it is. What the hell are you doing up this late? Unlike me, you look pretty chipper.”
I shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep. I don’t sleep well most days.”
“Why not?”
“Dunno. Ever since my mom died, I can’t seem to fall asleep easily.”
