Page 17 of I Hate You More

“Of course the first training session didn’t go well,” he said. “We’re talking about Caleb. He spent nine-tenths of his time flirting.”

“I don’t blame him. I’m tempted to leave Maury and take a stab at her myself. Then again, she seems more your type than mine.”

Spencer groaned. If Eva had any idea…

“You’d better go help her,” Eva said, laughing at his distress. “I don’t trust the way that dog of hers is eyeing his competition.”

It was a ruse, of course. Even from his position across the gym, Spencer could tell that Wheezy wasn’t eyeing his competition. Wheezy didn’t even know therewereother dogs around. His whole world had diminished to the cheeseburger in front of him. His golden retriever instincts followed it like he was tracking the movements of a duck.

Aware that Eva was watching him much more closely than he cared for, Spencer strode toward the door.

“Don’t come any nearer,” Ruby said before Spencer made it all the way over. “I mean it. You’ll distract him, and we’re so close.”

“Close to what?” Spencer asked. There was no finish line that he could see, no pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Just endless encounters like this one. “Maybe I didn’t make myself clear before, but a cheeseburger isn’t on a heart-healthy dog diet.”

“Don’t listen to him, Wheezy. This bacon-cheddar masterpiece has your name written all over it. Look at how it oozes. See how it glistens.” Although she had yet to turn toward Spencer, she nodded at the doors they’d come through. “Pretty please will you slam and bar those doors? I don’t know how much longer this is going to work.”

Spencer would have liked to dig in his heels and refuse to play along—with this or any of Ruby’s outrageous schemes—but there were a hundred dogs and just as many people watching in the background. Besides, he was curious to see how this would play out. What did she think would happen to Wheezy once he was trapped inside the gym?

No sooner had Spencer clicked the doors shut than he heard a whoop of triumph.

“Ha! I got you, sucker! Takethat.”

At first, he assumedhewas the sucker and that he’d just fallen for some elaborate trick plotted at his brother’s hands, but he turned around to find Ruby taking a triumphant bite out of the burger.

“You didn’t actually think you were going to get any of this after what you put me through, did you?” she asked with her mouth full. She took another bite before she’d swallowed the first. “Let that be a lesson to you. Rule number one: Your pageant coach isn’t your friend. They’ll find ways to ruin your life that you didn’t even know existed.”

Spencer found himself unable to look away. There was nothing delicate or ladylike about the way Ruby was attacking that cheeseburger, but it was still like watching an exquisite painting come to life.

Girl with a Double Patty. La Demoiselle de Meat.

He managed to shake himself off just in time. “I’m sorry… Did you just double-cross adog?”

Her golden laugh rang out. “Yes. Caleb said reward-based training is the best way to get results. All I have to do is find the thing that motivates Wheezy and use it to get what I want.” She paused and smirked. “Apparently, dogs and men are exactly the same. Who knew?”

Even though Spencer supported rewards-based training in all forms, he couldn’t help but feel outraged on the dog’s behalf. And his own. It took a lot more than a waggling cheeseburger—or a nicely formed ass—to motivate him.

“I don’t know what Caleb has told you about rewarding canine behaviors, but it only works if you actuallyrewardWheezy,” he said. “All you’re doing right now is teaching him not to trust you.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ve got that covered.” She reached into her front bib pocket and extracted an oversized carrot. “What a good boy you are, Wheezy. Thank you for walking with me. You’re a prince among dogs.”

Wheezy took one look at the vegetable being held out to him and howled.

“You don’t even know what it is,” Ruby coaxed. “Maybe you love carrots. Maybe they’re your favorite thing. They’re crisp and refreshing, and they make you see in the dark. Don’t you want night vision like all the other dogs?”

“No dogs have night vision,” Spencer said, feeling irritable. He might have prescribed the diet in the first place, but giving Wheezy a carrot as a consolation prize for a cheeseburger was just plain cruel. “They have more retina rods than humans, but not nearly as many as cats.”

“That shows what you know. The best pageant coaches can gaslight you into believing anything. Mine convinced me that eating chocolate caused freckles—a belief I held until I was well into my teen years. Imagine my embarrassment when I finally learned about UV rays.”

He stared at her. “That can’t possibly be true.”

“I also thought every kid had to do an hour of articulation exercises before they were allowed to go to school in the morning. I was the only one who treated the Pledge of Allegiance like it was an audition for Broadway.”

“Good God. Who was your pageant coach?”

“My mom. The night-vision carrots were another of her stories that I bought into much longer than I should have. I wasn’t a very bright child.”

Something about the wistful way she spoke made Spencer think there was more to the story, but he didn’t dare ask what it was. Getting to know her—allowing himself to be lulled by friendliness—would only lead to his cheeseburger being taken away.