Page 229 of Daddy's Pride

That’s really nice of you.

Have fun at work!

I mean, if you have a job you like. (Which I hope you do!)

TUESDAY 2:19 PM

I do. Thank you. Be good, sweetheart. I’ve got to go.

TUESDAY 2:19 PM

Ok, sorry!

Tuesday 2:26 PM

Bye.

Chapter 3

Owen

“O, my man! We’ve gotta talk to you,” Tyler said, pushing my textbook aside so he could flop down on the couch next to me. He slung an arm around my shoulders, nodding toward Ryan and Jacob, who’d followed him into the room. “Hear us out.”

My stomach tensed. This felt like an ambush.

“About what?” I asked cautiously, hoping they weren’t going to complain about the weird way the water temperature kept changing when we showered, despite how many times I’d tried to adjust the setting on the hot water heater.

“We came up with a great idea,” Jacob said, grinning at me while Ryan gave me a double thumbs up.

“Um,” I started, not sure I had the time in my schedule for a great idea. At least, not until I caught up on my homework and figured out how to make the house budget stretch. Which would be a lot easier if Jacob and Tyler weren’t both late on their parts of the rent again this month.

But somehow, I doubted this “great idea” had anything to do with that.

“We should get a dog!” Tyler announced, proving me right.

“Uh, no? We can’t have pets here, you know that.”

“Think of it like a house mascot,” Ryan said, leaning forward eagerly. “Or, like, a service dog!”

“Um, but it’s not? None of us need a service dog.”

And pets were a hard no from my parents anyway. They always had been, which really sucked, since I’d love to have a dog.

Not that I had the time to take care of one.

Or the budget to feed it.

“Bruh,” Jacob said, giving me the same intense look he’d used to convince me to try Jägermeister that one time. “We all need the service dog.”

“For what service?”

He grinned. “To get us laid! You know girls go crazy over dogs! We could take it to the dog park. Start an Insta page for it. Put, like, bows in its hair or some shit. It will be great!”

“Except this house has a no-pets policy,” I reminded him, my stomach clenching with nerves because I knew exactly what he was about to say. “So, um, we can’t.”

He crossed his arms over his chest and stared me down. “Then change the policy. It’s your house.”

“No, it’s my parents’ house.”