Three Broken Promises (One Week Girlfriend 3) - Page 23

Hearing him say that reminds me of exactly what was happening between us in the living room, sending a little shiver down my spine. I’d wanted it. There was absolutely no reason for him to apologize for that. “No,” I answer, not wishing to say anything else. Why give him anything else? I’m keeping my lips shut.

“Good.” He nods, rubbing the back of his neck and looking decidedly uncomfortable and eager to change the subject. “I called the police when you were in the shower.”

“Oh?” I try to sound casual but my voice cracks. “Um . . . what did they say? Any news?”

“They haven’t found the guy, no surprise. I spoke to a detective who’s supposedly in charge of your case and he didn’t know shit.” Colin practically spits out the last word, his eyes blazing. Seeing him so angry on my behalf makes me feel good, which is silly but I can’t help it.

I love having him champion me.

“I told you they wouldn’t care,” I remind him.

“Yeah, yeah.” He smiles faintly, the sight of it momentarily dazzling me, and I try to focus.

But he makes it so damn difficult when he looks at me like that.

“Have you cancelled your bank card yet?” he asks when I don’t say anything.

I wince, feeling like an idiot. “I haven’t.”

“Damn it, Jen.” He tunnels those long fingers through his already fucked-up hair again and again, messing it up further, and I lean toward him. My fingers are literally itching to run through all that messy hair so I can tug his head, his lips, closer to mine.

“I’ll call right now.” I reach for the phone again but he stops me, his fingers circling my wrist, tugging me closer to him instead.

“You make me nervous,” he murmurs, drawing me so close our faces are inches apart, our lips perfectly aligned. “You need to take better care of yourself, especially if you’re going to do this all on your own.”’

“I can handle myself,” I retort, pissed that he’s implying I can’t.

“Can you really? I’m . . . worried about you. You’ve never really lived on your own. And the last time you did, you sort of . . . messed it all up.”

Understatement of the year. I can’t believe he’s talking about when I ran away and lived in my stupid, shitty car. I can’t go back to those memories, especially with Colin right in front of me. “There were circumstances beyond my control,” I remind him. Remind myself, too. “I hadn’t been prepared to handle them.”

“See, that’s the thing about life. It’s always throwing circumstances at you that are out of your control. I don’t see how you can possibly be prepared for them now. Look at what happened last night.” He sends me a pointed look when I continue to stare at him like an idiot. I can’t help that he’s so beautiful he completely distracts me. “You’re moving out on your own in a matter of days, Jen. How are you going to do this?”

“I know, okay? You don’t have to make me feel so dumb. I’ve been . . . I’ve had a lot on my mind.”

“I’m not trying to make you feel dumb,” he says, his voice gentle, his expression full of so much concern he makes me want to cry. “I worry about you. I don’t like thinking of you out there on your own.”

“I don’t need you,” I mumble, briefly closing my eyes when I see the pain etched across his face.

I’m such a liar. I need him so much. I just hate that I do.

“I know.” His voice lowers to a near whisper. “Sometimes I think I’m the one who needs you more.”

Tears threaten and I sniff, trying to fight them off. But it’s no use. They start filling my eyes and my lips tremble. God, I’m pitiful. I swear I haven’t cried this much since Danny died. I don’t want to admit I’m crying over Colin so I play it off and blame it on last night, which is still partly true.

“I keep thinking of him. How easily he knocked me to the ground.” I keep my head down so I won’t see his eyes, his face. I really don’t want to see his reaction. “Hearing his voice when he called me a bitch. It was so intense. So scary.”

“Damn it, come here.” I glance up to find Colin opening his arms to me and I go to him, closing my eyes when he draws me in close. I press my face against his throat, breathing in his clean, familiar scent, and I slip my arms around his neck, eager to get closer to him.

“I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with this,” he says against my hair, his voice muffled, his strong arms tightening around my waist and pulling me in as close as he can. “The security company, the lights out in the parking lot—all of it’s my fault. He assaulted you because I gave him the opportunity to do it.”

Shoving at his shoulders with all my might, I leap away from him and stand, resting my hands on my hips. “Stop blaming yourself. What happened, what’s happening right now, has nothing to do with what you’ve done.”

He frowns up at me. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“All this . . . fucked-up guilt you hang on to, especially when it comes to me. It’s ridiculous. You can’t continue to be responsible for everything that happens to me, you know? There’s more going on between us—you just don’t want to acknowledge it.”

Colin ignores what I just said. Typical. “It’s not . . . guilt.” He can barely choke out the word. “I want to take care of you.”

“Like I’m an obligation. Some sort of duty you owe to my brother and my family.” I throw my hands up into the air, tired of my own voice. “All we do is talk in circles. I say the same thing, you say the same thing, and then everything’s fine. But really, everything isn’t fine. We just come back to this. Every. Single. Time.”

He stands, towering over me. “I hate this. I hate that you think you’re some sort of obligation to me. I hate that we have this same stupid argument over and over again.” Reaching out, he grabs me, so hard he makes me gasp as he hauls me toward him. “I don’t know what else I can do to prove to you that you’re more than an obligation to me. So much more.”

Finally. I needed to hear those words. So why won’t he ask me to stay? Why won’t he say he cares about me and wants me and wishes I would stay with him as his girlfriend or whatever he wants to call me? We don’t need to define it. I just want to be with him.

Only him.

Chapter 18

Colin

“No more talking,” I tell her, my hands at her waist, my fingers slipping beneath her tank so I can touch her bare, warm skin. “All I do is f**k it up when we talk.” I remember what Fable told me, how every time Drew opens his mouth when they argue he somehow makes it worse. It appears I’m just like him.

The faintest smile curves her lips and she slowly shakes her head. “You’re so right.” She pauses, worry mixed with desire filling her gaze. “We seem to do our best together when there’s no talking at all, don’t you think?”

“Well, you seem to like it when I talk to you a little bit.” I settle my mouth on hers, keeping it simple, knowing I won’t last like this for long. “Like when I whisper all those dirty words in your ear.” I kiss her hungrily, earning a soft moan from her when I delve my tongue deep inside her mouth. She tastes like toothpaste, fresh and minty and with a hint of her own, unique flavor. A flavor I could drown in, live on for the rest of my life.

“We can’t solve our problems with sex,” she tells me when I break away from her to smother her neck with wet kisses. “They’re still going to be waiting for us later. They always will.”

“Then we’ll deal with them later. I’ve been dying to lose myself inside you since last night,” I murmur against her throat, nibbling it. I love the feel of her skin against my lips, the scent of her, the slightly tangy taste.

She shivers, her hands at my shoulders, trying to push me. Thinking she’s trying to put a stop to what we’re doing, I reluctantly back away, only to watch in disbelief as she strips her tank top off, revealing the pretty pink bra she’s wearing.

“You want to lose yourself inside me, then let’s do it,” she says eagerly, her voice trembling as she reaches behind her and unhooks her bra. “I’m leaving soon, Colin. I don’t want to waste any more time.”

My mouth goes dry when she tosses the bra aside, then pushes her yoga pants and underwear off in one smooth movement. She’s na**d, my favorite thing in the whole freaking world, and without a thought I push her to the bed, quickly kicking off my flannel pants before I’m pushing myself inside her without any warning. No foreplay, nothing beyond the hungry kisses we shared just now.

I’m that desperate to be inside her.

She must be just as desperate. She’s wet and hot, opening completely to me, and I move within her easily, rocking against her. Deep. Deeper. Losing myself in her just like I said I wanted to, closing my eyes and letting pure, delicious sensation take over.

“Fuck, you feel so damn good. Tight and hot,” I whisper in her ear, holding her close. A little whispery moan falls from her lips at my words. “I wanna stay right here, deep inside your body and never leave.”

“That’s going to be—awkward when we eventually have to go to work,” she murmurs, her voice hitching with my every thrust. Christ, I love that. Hearing her soft gasps, her sweet moans, those delicious little whimpers I swallow with my mouth. I want to f**k her into oblivion. Hell, I want to be f**ked into oblivion, too. No thinking, no talking, no past, no future, nothing but the here and now.

With Jen.

“We’ll never work again. We’ll never leave this bed,” I tell her, my voice earnest, my thoughts earnest too. I would rather stay here with her forever.

Forever.

“Jenny.” I whisper her name against her lips, then kiss her deeply, overwhelmed by my thoughts, by the foreign emotion coursing through my veins, making my chest hurt. I care more for her than any other person in my life, even Danny, even my parents, though that’s not difficult.

The realization is frightening. Powerful. Liberating.

Jesus. I can’t do this now. I can’t feel something for her now, when she’s dead set on leaving me and nothing seems to stop her. We’ve been fooling each other this entire time. Pretending to be indifferent, acting like we don’t matter to each other beyond friendship. The second she moved in, the chemistry between us started to grow. Until it became too overwhelming and we couldn’t ignore it any longer. We’ve become even closer.

I’m falling for her. Completely.

Pushing all thought from my brain, I let my hands wander all over her body as I start to move fast. Faster. Until we’re wrapped tight around each other, both of us crying out as our orgasms take us completely over and we lose ourselves in each other, just like we said we wanted.

But now I realize I want even more.

By the time we escaped my room and started getting ready for work, hours had gone by. My father disappeared, leaving me a vague text that he was out scouting the area, whatever the hell that meant. Jen and I had fallen asleep, the two of us exhausted after everything that happened last night, our fight earlier today, and my dad showing up.

It’s been an emotional roller coaster the last twenty-four hours. One we’re both still trying to recuperate from.

Nothing is said in regard to our earlier fight and I’m thankful she doesn’t bring it up. She finally called the bank and canceled her card, and they’ll issue her a new one when she goes into the branch tomorrow. Fortunately, the jackass who stole her purse hadn’t used her card.

She’s lucky. It could have been so much worse. He could have cleaned out her account. Or taken his rage out on her when he had her lying there on the ground. Just thinking about what could have happened sends me into a quiet, seething rage.

So it’s best I don’t think about it at all.

I let her work her shift because she argues with me that she’s perfectly fine to go in and besides, she doesn’t want to be alone with her thoughts. Not quite sure what she means by that, I give in because when it comes to Jen, I always want to give in. I can’t help myself.

We’re halfway through the night and I’m going over paperwork for the new location when I realize I never did talk to her about the job idea that came to me yesterday. The one that would keep her near me. Now it has even more appeal since I’ve realized I want more. Despite my lingering guilt, I want her in my life. I want a relationship with her.

And I think she still wants that from me too, if I can convince her that I mean what I say.

Eager to see her, I go search Jen out in the restaurant, finding her working in the bar, and I call her over. She approaches me with a questioning expression. I let my gaze rake over her as I’m prone to do, taking in her bandaged knees with a smile. The sight of them reminds me of Jenny the nine-year-old, always falling and scraping up her legs and arms. Always trying to keep up with Danny and me.

“Is everything okay?” she asks, her delicate brows furrowed.

“I want to talk to you,” I answer, grabbing her by the crook of her arm and glancing about the room. No one’s paying us any mind. “Can you come into my office for a few minutes?”

“Um, it’s slow, so sure.” She shrugs, letting me lead her out of the bar and down the hall toward my office. “If this is your discreet way of getting me alone again, then that was sort of obvious.”

“No one was watching us, I checked.” Chuckling, I shake my head. “And I really do want to talk to you. Come on.”

Tags: Monica Murphy One Week Girlfriend
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