“Hey, my brother’s in that gang of gimps,” Claire huffed. “You know what they say, Claire—if you lie with dogs, you get fleas.” “Then you must be riddled with them,” Claire shot back. “Since all you seem to be doing lately is lying under Pierce O’Neill.” Lizzie’s cheeks turned pink and Claire arched a perfectly shaped brow. “Nothing to say? Uh-huh. That’s what I thought.”
