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.

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