His spoon clinks against the bowl before he clears his throat. “I’ve never heard of it, but it doesn’t matter; it’s your house. You can watch whatever you want. I’m going to eat and then hopefully pass out, so when I wake up, you can take me home.”
There’s the asshole I know and hate.
“I know it’s my place, but I’m trying to be fucking hospitable,” I snap and take a bit of stew. Stew that I usually crave, but tonight Maddox Blackburn has ruined it. It tastes like sawdust on my tongue.