Page 47 of My Ruthless Neighbor

“What exactly are you sorry for?”

At his dry tone, I look up. Then jerk my gaze to the side. Clearing my throat, I say, “I’m sorry for all the inconvenience you suffered because of me.”

It pisses me off when he ignores my apology and moves again. Out of the corner of my eye, I watch him pour juice into a glass that I am pretty sure I didn’t buy.

“Drink.”

I clench my jaw as I finally slide my eyes back to him. “I’m going to have coffee. But thanks for all this.” I wave at the tray of food. I should be grateful but his behavior doesn’t help. He is rude.

He only looked after me last night because he thought he had to. I am sure he thinks of himself as a responsible citizen of society. And any responsible citizen wouldn’t abandon a drunk woman.

“Coffee is bad for hangovers. Drink this.” He motions to the glass.

His tone is irritated. Not an ounce of concern in it. I don’t understand. Why does he act like he cares when he clearly doesn’t?

“I’ll drink whatever I want.” I snap. Then, “Thank you for everything. But you can leave now. I bet you are getting late for work.”

“I am the boss. I am sure I can make an exception for one day.” He lifts the glass and extends it. “Here.”

I frown. “Why are you doing this? Why are you so hell-bent on me drinking the damn juice?”

He is staring at me as if I have lost my mind. “It will help with the headache.”

I want to yell that I don’t have a headache but something stops me from lying. I also don’t want to yield. He can’t just boss me around.

When I try to sidestep him, he moves with me. We are so close that his scent fills my nose.

Maybe I am still drunk because I catch myself subtly leaning toward him.

Archer Kim is heartbreakingly handsome. The ire in those dark eyes of his should turn me off. But it doesn’t. Instead, it awakens something in me. My stomach tightens.

A wet strand has fallen over his forehead. My fingers itch to touch it. To feel its silky texture. To trace the little frown between his brows. I want to run my fingers into his wet hair and… No. No, no, no.

Alcohol is definitely not for me. Because these thoughts… are messed up. He freaking kicked me out not long ago from his agency.

But he was there for you the entire night.

That doesn’t matter. He still can’t give me orders. “Move.”

He doesn’t.

Massaging my temples, I repeat. “I said move.”

“No.”

“I’m not doing this with you.” I turn on my heels but he catches my wrist with the other hand before I can leave.

“Drink the damn juice so I could go to work in peace.” He seethes.

“You can’t force me, Archer.” I grit out.

There’s a pause before he finally says, “Suit yourself.” He sets the glass on the counter and moves past me to leave the kitchen. I catch him muttering “Nuisance” as he goes.

My fist flexes as I march toward him and stop in front of him before he could go any further. “Take that back.”

I glare at his face. His chiseled jaw tightens. Everything about this man is cold. Raleigh told me he is the best boss. A great leader. But all I see in him is bitterness.

“What?” He narrows his eyes.

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