Page 134 of My Ruthless Neighbor

Wiping my eyes, I shrug off the comforter and pad to the door.

What time is it?

I open the door and my breath hitches. Archer stands with his hands propped on either side of my door’s frame. I am about to slam the door in his face when I look at him. Really look at him.

His head is bent. His white button-down shirt is wrinkled and his hair is messy. I grip the door tighter, my traitorous heart worrying for him again.

“What are you doing here?” I ask grimly.

He lifts his head, his eyes colliding with mine. I almost lose my footing because of the bolt of current that shoots through me. I cease breathing.

His penetrating gaze shows a hint of regret. Maybe my mind is exhausted and is trying to see things it wants to. But the icy demeanor from earlier is missing. Instead, he looks drained.

From the close proximity, I can feel the tension emanating from him.

He doesn’t look like the owner of a prestigious advertising agency. He looks like a man who’s tired of battling with his demons.

He showed me his cold-hearted side tonight. And his temper triggered a dark part of my past. I didn’t need that. If I am smart, I should stay away from him. Far, far away.

When he doesn’t say anything, I start to push the door close. He stops it with his hand and pushes it wider. Stepping forward, his fingers lift my chin.

“Have you been crying?”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” I push his hand away but frown when I feel something wet and sticky. I stare down and gasp. Dried blood. His knuckles are busted, swollen.

“What happened to your hand?” I try to grab it.

He lets me but uses the grip to jerk me closer. He leans down and studies my face. “Were you crying because of me?”

“You answer my question first! What did you do?”

“Doesn’t fucking matter. Tell me, Summer. Were you crying because of me?”

Mom told me to always smile when your heart is feeling sad. And right now, it feels like my heart is being stretched by two sides. I am scared if I keep talking to him, it might give and break in two.

I curl my lips. “Nope. I was watching The Notebook.”

He gets inside the apartment and shuts the door behind him. “You’re lying.”

I chuckle sadly and begin moving backward. “I guess that’s your hint that you’re not supposed to be here.”

He shocks me by eating the space between us. He takes my face in his hands. “I was mean to you. You didn’t deserve it. Forgive me, Summer.”

My nose tingles, my lower lip quivers. But I force a smile. “It’s not a big deal, really.” I feign nonchalance. “If you are worried that you hurt my feelings, trust me. You didn’t. Everything’s cool.” I grip his wrists, attempting to pull it off my face, but he doesn’t budge. One of his hands slides down and curls around my nape.

“You’re lying again.” He rasps.

“Then why aren’t you angry? You hate liars. You hate me.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t hate you, Summer. Far from it.”

His words hit me hard. This time, I push him, turn away and take few steps away from him. “Don’t say things you don’t mean, Archer.”

I draw in a shaky breath. His words affected me more than it should have. That shows how much I cared about what he thinks of me.

I always thought he didn’t like me. He was physically drawn to me. I knew that. We want each other but apart from that, it always pricked my heart to think that he held disapproval in regards of me.

I lie a lot and it’s something I don’t think would ever go. And he hates liars, doesn’t he? So how can he say that he doesn’t hate me.

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