Three Broken Promises (One Week Girlfriend #3)(27)

“Oh my God.” The cheeks on my face are so hot my skin feels like it’s going to catch fire as I jerk the blankets back over me. I didn’t even realize I was only half-covered by the comforter and that he could see the tiny shorts I wear to bed. Sans panties.

How freaking mortifying!

His mood doesn’t fit. Lately he’s been so somber and sullen and Mister Downer, I’m surprised to see the smile still pasted to his face. I shouldn’t say “pasted” because it looks genuine and I have to admit, I like seeing it. I like seeing him happy and carefree. It reminds me of the past, before all this heavy, awful shit happened.

“Like I haven’t seen your ass before.” He stands and stretches, lifting his arms high above his head, making a rough sound in the back of his throat that’s undeniably sexy. His shirt rises with the movement, offering a glimpse of his flat, toned stomach, and I’m filled with the urge to lick him there.

God bless America, what is wrong with me? I’m sitting here gaping at him like some sort of shell-shocked war victim. I can’t think about licking Colin’s perfect abs. I need to concentrate on getting the hell out of here before I do something incredibly stupid.

Like, you know, attempt to lick Colin’s abs.

“You’ve got ten minutes to get those sweet cheeks into the shower and get ready. Then we’re hitting the road,” he commands as he drops his arms to his sides, his voice full of that aggressive authority I would never admit arouses me like nothing else.

Sometimes I really love it when he bosses me around.

“Hitting the road where?” I ask, my gaze following his right hand. It reaches beneath his shirt, scratching his belly lazily, lifting the hem so I catch another peek of all that tempting skin. Dark golden hair trails from beneath his navel, a path that, yep, I want to follow with my tongue. See where it takes me.

Hmm, I know exactly where it’ll take me and I so want to go there.

Closing my eyes, I thunk the back of my head hard as hell against the headboard, irritated with my train of thought. Am I horny? Was I having an amazingly realistic sex dream, or what? Having him here in my room, on my bed, I can’t stop thinking about him. What I’d like to do to him. Naked. With my mouth and my tongue and my . . .

“I’m driving you to Sacramento, remember?”

I open my eyes to find him watching me, one brow cocked, his hands on his hips. He looks . . . gorgeous. Good enough to eat. Irritated with me, too—I can see it in his pretty crystal-blue eyes. But there’s amusement flashing there as well, so he’s not that pissed at me.

Only sorta.

“Don’t you have stuff planned today? In Sac? You know, looking for a job, an apartment, all of those important things a girl needs to do to move on with her life?” he prods.

It’s all coming back to me now. God, my brain is a foggy mess, especially when I haven’t had my first cup of coffee yet. “I have two job interviews later today. Both of them not till this afternoon, though.”

“I’m sure you’ll find a job pretty quick.” He sends me a look, one that’s all business. “If you need a reference, don’t hesitate to put my name down on the application. I won’t sabotage this for you, Jen. I hope you know that.”

“Of course you wouldn’t,” I automatically say, but really? I’m not too sure. I’m suspicious of his mood. He’s been protesting my wanting to leave since I made the announcement and now he’s going to be my first-class, sexy-as-hell escort into my new life? I don’t get it.

More than anything, I flat-out don’t get him.

“I’d love to stand around and chat, but we’re wasting time. You need to get ready.” He grabs the end of the comforter and yanks it right off me, making me shriek. Damn it, I’m in nothing but a thin white tank top and no bra, plus the shorts that bared my ass to him already.

I may as well be naked.

Scrambling for the comforter, I try and grab it, but he keeps it out of my reach. “I’m practically indecent,” I tell him, giving him a meaningful stare.

He doesn’t pick up the hint. “I’ve seen you in less,” he drawls.

My cheeks warm with embarrassment. “Yeah, when I was eight and you caught me skinny-dipping in the creek. That totally doesn’t count.”

“Actually, you were nine. And it definitely counts.” He smirks. I hate it when he smirks. Makes me think he’s turning into a big ol’ douchebag, though really, I know he’s not. He’s just so damn cocky sometimes and it bugs me, because he has reason to be. The man is almost perfect. “You’ve come to my bed wearing the same exact thing. What’s the big deal?”

“You’re really going to go there?” I’m shocked. This is the last thing I want to do, discuss his scary dreams and bring our mood down. I much prefer the happy, carefree Colin. I can’t remember the last time I saw him like this.

“There are lots of places I’d like to go with you, Jen. I just haven’t told you about them yet.” With that, he turns and leaves my bedroom, quietly shutting the door behind him.

I slump against the headboard the second he’s gone, breathing easy once more. What did he mean by that? He makes me nervous. The whole butterflies-in-the-stomach, I-can’t-eat, I-can-hardly-think-or-talk type of nervous that no other guy has ever been able to make me feel. I love it. I crave it.