Three Broken Promises (One Week Girlfriend #3)(15)

“I did.” His deep voice is somber, the sound slowly breaking my heart.

Colin is always breaking my heart. He can smile and laugh, joke and flirt at work, but it’s all a mask. At home, here in the middle of the night, this is the real man. The one who deals with pain and suffering and so much damn guilt it has to be paralyzing.

I wish I could absorb some of it for him, but I have my own pain to contend with. If I weren’t so worried he’d hate me forever, I’d tell him what I did. How I sold myself to men so easily. My secret shame would devastate him. He thinks he’s dealing with a tremendous load of guilt . . .

Mine nearly suffocates me.

He says nothing else and neither do I. We lie there together quietly for so long, his breathing starts to slowly even out, and I know him well enough to know that he’s fallen back asleep.

I wish I could sleep too, but I can’t. Not when I’m held captive in his strong arms, his big, hot body pressed to mine. My thoughts race with what he told me, the questions running through my mind. I’ve known Colin for years, yet in many ways he’s still a complete mystery to me.

As I stare at the ceiling, I’m achingly aware of how close he is, our bodies practically entwined. After our kiss last night I can think of nothing else but doing it again. Doing more. Taking our intimate moments farther.

Kissing him, doing anything else with Colin, would totally deter me from ever leaving him. Though I’m not stupid, my heart might be, and my body definitely would. It would betray me in an instant. I know I would become addicted to him. We’re not even doing anything and I literally crave him. Want to taste him, touch him, run my hands and mouth and tongue all over his skin.

I wouldn’t describe myself as a very sexual person. I’m no uptight virgin, but no guy has ever really rocked my world and left me gasping for more. As I grew up with an overprotective big brother and his equally overprotective best friend, boys tended to steer clear of me in my earlier teen years and I couldn’t blame them. As I grew older, though, those same boys came chasing after me once Danny and Colin graduated high school, and yeah, I dated a few. Had sex for the first time with my first serious boyfriend on prom night during our senior year.

A spectacularly bad experience for me at least, and Doug Evans and I broke up soon after. Then he took off to college midway through the summer after we graduated, and I never saw or heard from him again.

I had one other long-term boyfriend, but we split right after Danny died. He couldn’t take all the mourning and sadness, not that I could blame him. I would have broken up with me too. Other than that, I’ve had sex with a handful of guys, but nothing too serious—and what happened when I was at Gold Diggers doesn’t count.

But no man has ever rocked my socks off, for lack of a better term. The only guy who makes me want is the one who’s lying here with me, sleeping on my shoulder, clinging to me like I might be his lifeline.

He devastates me and he doesn’t even know it.

This is absolute, exquisite torture. I need to get out of his bed before I do something stupid. Slowly I try to disengage myself from his hold but he clings tighter, his fingers curling around my shoulder, his weight seeming to become heavier as he lies half on top of me. I thought he was asleep, but he’s not acting like he is.

“Don’t go.” He whispers the words against my neck. I can feel his lips move, their damp warmth upon my skin making me shiver. “Stay with me.”

His words, the tone of his voice, render me completely still and I lie there, immobilized. I want more, want to do so much more, but I’m afraid he’ll reject me the way he did last night. I played it off to Fable earlier—hell, I played it off to myself—but that hurt, how easily he walked away. How Colin never acknowledges anything that happens between us. It’s confusing.

Devastating.

“Colin . . .” My voice drifts off when he touches my jaw, his fingers feather light as they trace my chin, then slip down my throat. His entire hand spans the front of my neck, exerting the slightest bit of pressure, and a wave of arousal washes over me at his possessive touch.

He slides his hand down, settling on my chest, his wide palm pressing against the tops of my br**sts, his fingers gently tracing my collarbone. My breath hitches in my throat, leaving me in shuddery little whispers I can’t control.

“You want this. I can feel your heart racing.” His lips are on my neck, his breath a hot gust on my skin. “You come to me every night always wanting to help me. Never asking for anything. Why, Jen?”

“You’re my friend.” A shaky exhale leaves me. “I don’t like to see you hurting.”

Colin remains quiet, nuzzling me with his nose, inhaling deep, as if he’s trying to inhale me. I’ve gone completely rigid, stunned by the way he’s acting. I like it, I can’t lie, but he’s also scaring me.

I don’t want to get my hopes up.

“Is that all there is? That I’m just your friend and you don’t want to see me hurting?” He sounds incredulous, as well he should. After what I said to him last night, how I told him I wanted him?

Yeah. He knows I’m full of crap.

“I . . . I don’t know.” God, no way can I admit how I feel again only for him to throw my words back in my face.

Again.

He moves so quickly I gasp, shocked to find him hovering above me, his face close to mine, his hand moving to cup the side of my neck. His eyes are practically glowing as they rove over me. “What the f**k are we doing?”