Liv moved into the room and immediately spotted the take-out container. “Who ate my Chinese food?” Gavin pointed at Mack. Who had gone strangely still. He stared at Liv with wide eyes. Like, wide eyes. “Hi,” he said stupidly. “I’m, I’m Braden.” Liv shot him a glare that could have ignited a brush fire, and then she stomped toward the kitchen. In her wake, she left an unnatural, disbelieving silence, like the kind after a streaker runs naked across the outfield. A woman had just walked away from Braden-Fucking-Mack. “Never thought I’d see that,” Malcolm said in his calm baritone. “I feel like
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