Zeke watched as Zach strode toward the couch in the middle of the grand library, his movements controlled, almost lazy, but his expression gave nothing away.
The dim glow of the antique chandelier above cast a golden hue over the dark mahogany shelves, lined with books neither of them had ever actually read.
Zach lowered himself onto the couch with the kind of effortless grace that only came from being both rich and naturally infuriating. Then, with the air of a man bestowing a royal favor, he gestured for Zeke to take the couch in front of him.
Zeke, of course, didn't need an invitation. He threw himself onto the sofa without a second thought, arms spread across the back like he owned the place. If he could, he would have propped his feet up on the coffee table just to piss Zach off.
"So?" Zach started, his voice low and sounded extremely bored like the usual. "What is it that you came here for?"
