Chapter 30. Admire or Envy?

June POV

I sigh for the thirteenth time, raising my head over my shoulder to glance at Mr. Grande through the blinds. Thank God he didn’t shut them.

He yelled, alright. Told me never to make coffee for him again.

That was the plan — and technically, it worked, except for one tiny, stupid problem.

Was this plan working for me or against me?

Because I’m supposed to feel smug, satisfied, maybe even a little triumphant at his discomfort, but instead?

I’m… stupidly turned on, by his just his voice? How he spat that “fuck,” like it was a threat. The fact that I’m still hearing it echo in my head like some damn bedroom fantasy is crazy.

I’ve truly gone insane.

I peek again through the blinds, and his eyes dart up, meeting mine for just a second before he stands and gruffly yanks them shut.

My lashes dip willingly, my lips flatten.

Yeah, so apart from the fact that my hormones are staging a rebellion without my consent?