Page 93 of My Ruthless Neighbor

However, I don’t step inside. “Summer,” I call out.

No answer.

She has a dog, right?

It seems she didn’t train him. Dogs are always on alert. Seems like her pet is just like her.

“Summer, are you in there?” I call out louder this time. When she doesn’t answer, I begin to worry.

“I am coming in,” I announce and enter.

It feels like I have entered a disco. The room is bathed in multicolored lights coming from the disco lights on the ceiling.

Wait… is that a disco ball?

What the fuck?

“Pay attention, Goldie!” At Summer’s voice, I turn left and walk forward.

Summer and her dog come into view.

She is wearing an emerald green sparkly dress. It’s similar to the one she wore at her New Year’s party. Only this time, she is not wearing a wig.

“Look at mommy doing the catwalk.” She sways her hips as she walks for her puppy who’s seated on a couch. She didn’t spare her dog from this absurdity. He’s wearing a bow tie and a black hat.

“Mommy rocked today! You should’ve been there, Goldie. I was killing it!” She bounces and laughs. She starts singing off-key in full confidence.

I lean against the wall and cross my legs at the ankles when she decides to twerk.

I have to give it to her. She is so happy, so immersed in her celebratory dance that she doesn’t realize someone’s in her apartment. And that dog? Yeah, he is busy enjoying the show.

I should admit one thing though, if we ignore her terrible singing and rapping, she can move.

She is belting out the lyrics as she really moves. When she turns, still doing her sexy hip movement, her eyes widen the moment it lands on me.

She lets out a scream that makes me wince. Her dog finally takes notice of the stranger in the apartment and instead of fighting me, he jumps off the couch and dashes to the open room. Maybe her bedroom.

Such a brave dog.

I reach her in two long steps. She is still screaming when I clutch her upper arms. “Shut your dramatics, Summer. It’s me.”

She stops screaming. Thank God. Then her hand comes up. Touching my face, she says, “Archer?”

“Yeah.”

Her gaze drops to my chest for the briefest moment. I am still in my undershirt.

I enjoy her eyes on me more than I care to admit. And the longer she stares, the harder it gets to hold on to my slipping control.

Taking advantage of her silence, I take my fill too. My eyes roam over her face and notice she is not wearing any makeup. Just the way I like it.

How can the mere sight of her face abate the storm inside of me?

One look at her picture helped me fight off my demons. Just how?

This new discovery adds more to my fury.

She blinks herself out of her stupor and pushes me away. “What are you doing inside my apartment? No. Wrong question.Howdid you get inside my apartment?”

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