Bianca
“Whew. You’re drunk again, Bjorn?” Isaac grinned and waved his hand in front of his nose. “Certainly smells like it. Keep it down, or you’ll scare the books.”
I held back a snort, although any humor I felt was quickly blotted out by the healthy dose of fear that coursed through me at Bjorn’s responding snarl. He seemed like more bear than man, his solid body stark against Isaac’s more slender form.
“Cut the s**t, you little prick,” Bjorn slurred, fisting Isaac harder against the shelves. “I’m getting sick and f*****g tired of your attitude. It’s like you never matured past fourteen.”
Isaac’s grin stretched even wider. “And you, brother, never matured past seven. The last time we believed aggression could solve problems was in grade school, on the playground.”
Thi
