Fae Wolf
“Friendly, my ass.”
The stranger’s deep rumble carried through the double library shelves before curling around me like a sun-warmed puppy. Maybe that’s why I couldn’t quite hold the obvious rejoinder in check.
“Your a*s is friendly?” I shot back. “How do you know? Has it been butt dialing again?”
My jokes, I’m well aware, aren’t exactly funny. But I wasn’t prepared for such a violent response.
The peace of the library was broken by a clatter of falling books from the opposite side of the shelves. A huge hand thrust through the second tier of hardbacks to rake those in his direction also. Then a single tome clenched in strong fingers slammed down flat on the shelf, a face pressing through the gap to rest on the plastic-lined cover.
The stranger was my age or a little older.
