A near psychotic laugh bubbles up before I can stop it. Braden immediately begins to launch a series of irritated questions at us. “Why are you laughing? And why in the hell are ‘trending’ and my name being uttered in the same sentence? Someone tell me what the fuck is going on. Now.” I finish my giggle-fest with a satisfied sigh and slump into my seat, turning lazily to point my phone his way. “The picture I posted earlier. Part of your handsome frowning face is in the shot, and chicks are getting lady boners over you.” His face screws up. “That’s a sign of some sort. I’m going home. I have shit to do later, and Charley will pout if I hold up dinner—and I hate it when she pouts.” My grin starts to fade. Not that he owed me a relationship status disclosure, but who is this pouting “she” he’s talking about? What sort of woman does Braden go home to? She pouts? I can’t picture him putting up with much drama of any kind, let alone female drama. What does she look like? Is she pretty? Oh, hell, who am I kidding? Look at him. The dark…