Three Broken Promises (One Week Girlfriend #3)(42)
Author: Monica Murphy

Instead, I say nothing. Because I always seem to have a time of need. And he always seems to be right there for me. Saving me.

I’m starting to hate it.

This knee isn’t as bad as the other one and he takes quick care of it, bandaging me up and declaring me fixed with the tiniest smile.

I don’t have the heart to tell him I feel more broken than ever.

Chapter 16

Jen

“I’m firing the security company,” Colin announces the moment I shuffle into the kitchen.

Stopping short, I study him through bleary eyes, deciding it’s a crime for a man to wake up first thing in the morning looking so damn good. Wearing nothing but a pair of black-and-gray flannel pajama pants that hang indecently low on his hips, revealing all that smooth muscled skin I’m itching to touch, he’s making coffee and acting super efficient.

“Why are you firing the security company?” I ask as I sit at the small kitchen table, my movements careful. My body aches and my knees still hurt. As I inhale deeply, the scent of rich, fragrant coffee slowly wakes up my murky brain.

He keeps his back to me, his pants falling even lower when he reaches into the cabinet above him and pulls out two coffee mugs. I see a tan line, and immediately think of how I had my hands all over the area south of it just yesterday morning. My cheeks flush hot with a mixture of embarrassment and arousal, and my body’s tingling in all the right places.

Needless to say, nothing happened between us last night. I’d gone to sleep in my bed, and he’d gone to sleep in his. I woke up in the middle of the night to hear him yelling something unintelligible, but I didn’t go to him. And the yelling stopped as soon as it started, so I can only hope the dreams weren’t too bad.

I felt like a jerk not going to him, but I have to break myself of this habit. I can’t keep trying to rescue him. Just like he can’t keep trying to rescue me.

God, we’re a pair, aren’t we?

“There was supposed to be a guard on duty until two a.m., but he left early without consulting anyone. This isn’t the first time, either. I want him fired. The company’s at fault, so I’m terminating our contract with them first thing when I head into the office.”

“Maybe he had some sort of emergency,” I offer weakly. My head slowly starts to pound. I’m so not in the mood to fight or discuss what happened last night. It’s too early for this sort of discussion.

I just want to forget.

“Come on. I’ve texted Steven and a few others at the restaurant. They said this guy left early a lot, which pisses me off. And even if what you’re saying is true, I really don’t care. He should have at least let someone know. They’re in breach of contract. Makes it real easy for me to end this relationship. Though now I need to find another security company stat. Preferably tonight.” He finally pours each of us a cup of coffee, preparing them before bringing mine with him as he walks to the table and drops into the chair across from me. He slides the steaming mug toward me with a nod. “Here you go. Just the way you like it.”

He knows how I like my coffee, heavy on the creamer. “Thank you,” I say gratefully, taking the cup between both hands and bringing it to my lips, breathing in the rich, delicious scent before I take a sip.

“So did you sleep all right? How are your knees this morning?” he asks, his voice deep and full of concern.

After he’d cleaned them up, he walked me to my room last night, tucking me into my bed like I’m some sort of child. I’d been half tempted to ask him to crawl into bed with me and spend the night, but I held back. I didn’t want to look too needy.

It’s bad enough, how needy I already am. Breaking bad habits, right? I need to remember that.

“I slept okay.” I’d lain in bed, wide awake for at least an hour, running over again and again in my head what happened to me out in the parking lot. Wondering how I could have prevented it. I’d kept my head down most of the walk, too focused on getting to Colin’s car, thinking of Colin. Of going straight home so I could get him naked. So preoccupied with my wicked thoughts, I never once checked out my surroundings. I’d been easy pickings for that guy; no wonder he came for me.

And I could blame no one but myself for that.

“Are you in any sort of pain?” The soft concern lacing his deep voice almost makes me want to cry, which is so stupid. I’m thinking like such a girl right now I want to smack myself.

“My body aches, yeah. I hit the ground pretty hard when I fell. But my knees are better. They don’t hurt as bad.” It was sort of true. They still sting, but not as much as last night.

The murderous glow in his eyes says it all. If the guy who did this to me were in the same room with us right now, Colin would be tearing him apart, limb by limb.

“I should call the police and see if they caught the little motherfucker,” he mutters, reaching for his cell phone.

“Don’t bother. I’m sure they’ll never find him.” I take another sip, my brain slowly coming awake, along with all of my bitter sarcasm. “I’m low priority in their eyes. I just want to forget last night ever happened.”

“A serial armed robber is not low priority, especially in a college town. Trust me, they’re looking for the ass**le. And if they’re not, I’ll call and make sure they are.” He lets his cell phone drop onto the table with a loud clang, making me jump in my seat. He notices, remorse filling his gaze, and I hate seeing it. I don’t want his sympathy. “Are you all right?”

“Of course I’m all right.” I feel defensive, as though his eyes can see right through me. See all my faults and resentment and irritation over this entire mess. I didn’t ask for this to happen. Getting robbed and playing the helpless female is so not a role I’m comfortable with. I’d had a nightmare about it. How he knocked me to the ground, yanking my purse out of my grip, calling me a bitch.

This guy didn’t just steal my purse and everything in it. I’m afraid he’s stolen my strength and courage, too.

“I know you’re trying to deal with this in your own way and it’s hard. But you’ve been acting almost like you’re . . . mad at me.” His mouth sets into a hard line, though his eyes are full of worry. “Are you? Mad at me?”

No way can I be honest. He’ll think I’m crazy if I tell him I’m totally mad, though I wouldn’t describe it so much as that. Of course, I feel like I’m crazy, because I have no valid reason to be angry with him. What did he do that was so wrong? Help me out? Clean my wounds? Put me to bed and reassure me everything’s going to be all right?