I open my mouth, ready to say the same old shit in defense, but she cuts me off, calling me on it.

“I don’t want to hear it. It’ll just be the same thing you always say. That you don’t mind. That you do it for my family, that you do it because of the guilt you carry, which is ridiculous. Save it for someone who’ll actually believe you.”

“I broke promises. To you, to your parents, to your brother. I don’t want to break any more,” I say, but she’s not listening.

Jen pushes open the door and climbs out of the car without another word, slamming the door so hard it reverberates through the garage, rattling the metal doors.

Without thought I climb out of the car and follow her inside, my head pounding, my blood roaring hot and fast through my veins. I try and help her out and she throws my generosity in my face. I’m sick of it. Hell, I’m sick of myself.

I find her in the kitchen, her hands curved around the edge of the granite countertop, her back to me as she hangs her head. She’s kicked off those sexy heels but she’s still tall. I can hear her breathing, feel the tension radiating off of her in palpable waves, and I want to touch her. Comfort her. Draw her into my arms and never let her go.

“You’re not my charity case,” I say softly. Her shoulders tense at my words. “I . . . care for you, Jen. I want to protect you. It tears me up inside when I think about what happened to you, when no one knew where you were.”

She says nothing, just keeps her back to me.

“When you’re hurting, I want to make it better,” I admit. “But every time I open my mouth, I seem to make it worse.”

She releases a shuddering breath before she turns around to face me, her expression unreadable. “You’re not honest with me, that’s why you make it worse. You hold yourself back.”

“I sometimes think you’re not honest with me either.” I clamp my lips shut, unable to go on. I can’t call her out when I hide from her as well. If I were honest, I’d tell her how I really feel.

I’ve done things I’m not proud of. I’ve pushed aside those I care about to strive for more with my career. I fear I’ve turned into my father.

And no one likes my father.

“Fine. You’re right. I’m not honest. I have my own secrets. That’s why I’m leaving. I’m running away from it all. Not a very responsible, grown-up thing to do, but it’s all I’ve got.” She approaches me slowly, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. The sight of them nearly undoes me but I straighten my spine, stiffen my upper lip, and pretend I’m a fucking statue. “I’m not sure you can handle my secrets. But despite them, I want you, Colin. All of you—your faults and your strengths, the good and the bad, it doesn’t matter. I want it all.”

Her words wash over me like a soothing balm and I feel everything within me loosen. All that tightly coiled-up tension, the anger, the frustration, everything that’s been pent up inside me for what feels like a century just melts at first sight of the glow in her eyes. Those tears are for me. Her pain, her emotions, they’re all for me, and like a complete ass I’ve stomped all over her these last few months.

Hell, the last few years. Ever since I’ve known her, really. I’ve been protective to a fault. Guarding her, watching over her. Losing her . . .

Wanting her. Not allowing myself to have her. Pushing her away, hurting her. Every single damn time.

She deserves better. A man who would have rescued her right away instead of letting her continue to work at a place that dragged her down farther every single day she went there.

“I’m out of here in a few weeks. There’s no going back.” She lifts her chin, determination written all over her sad face. “My leaving is going to happen whether you like it or not. I will make it happen despite all of these recent . . . obstacles. So why can’t you give me a little bit of yourself? That’s all I want, Colin. And then I’ll walk away from you before it gets too complicated. It’s what you want, right? I know you don’t do complicated.”

I don’t do complicated because I saw what happened between my parents, and they’re the worst kind of complicated. No one understands them, least of all me.

Yet with Jen, it’s already complicated before it’s even begun. That’s how bad I have it for her. Once I have her, will I be able to walk away?

I don’t know.

“You’re going to turn me away yet again, aren’t you?” she asks when I don’t say anything. The irritation in her voice rings clear as her entire body goes tense. “I can’t believe it. I offer myself up to you with no strings attached and you’re trying to figure out how to let me down easy. God, I am such a moron!”

Unable to hold myself back, I rush toward her, angry that she would insult herself. Panicked that she really is going to walk away and I’m going to lose my chance. Thinking too much sucks. I need to just let it happen. Take this opportunity that she’s presenting me.

And let her go when our time is up.

“You’re not a moron,” I murmur, reaching for her. I cup her face in my hands and position her so she has no choice but to meet my gaze. I skim my thumbs across her cheeks, feel her shudder at my touch. “You make an offer like that and a man needs to process it first.”

The unshed tears still glimmer in her eyes and one escapes, leaving a damp trail across her skin. Leaning in, I stop its descent with my lips, tasting the salt, hearing the catch in her breath. “We do this and it’s not going to be some half-assed thing, you know,” I whisper.

She closes her eyes, her tears tangled in her long, thick lashes. “What’s it going to be, then?”

“A discovery.” I nuzzle her nose with my own, breathing in her scent, her very essence. God, I could devour her! It’s taking everything within me to keep calm and not unleash all over her. “An exploration.”

“That sounds like . . . research.” Her breath hitches in her throat when I drop a tender kiss on the tip of her nose.

Chuckling, I shake my head. “It’s the farthest thing from research.” I drift my lips across her cheek, blazing a hot path on her petal-soft skin. “You’re right when you said I don’t do commitment. The closest thing I’ve ever been to commitment is . . . what I share with you.”

She tentatively places her hands on my hips, her fingers curling into the waistband of my jeans. Having her hands on me sends little darts of fire throughout my insides, making me harden in an instant. She has no idea what sort of effect she has on me. How much restraint I’m using at this very moment not to throw her over my shoulder like an oversexed caveman and cart her off to my bedroom.

“But it can be no more than friendship with added . . . benefits.” I lift my head so I can look into her troubled gaze. She doesn’t like what I have to say and I don’t like it either, but I have to be honest. Stringing her along and making her believe this is something more is a mistake.

The two of us together would never work. I’m too damn selfish. I’d disappoint her. I’d hold her back when she needs her freedom. I’m not worthy of her. She’s everything sweet and good in my life, where there’s little sweet and good remaining.

I’ve kept her—and our relationship—as pure as possible even after all of these years. With the realization that she’s leaving me, that we’ll never be together again, I need to take my opportunities where I can.

Jen bites her lip and drops her gaze. “I can handle that.”

Her body language is more than telling me she doesn’t really want to handle that, but I can’t worry about it now.

I want her too damn much.

Chapter 11

Jen

What Colin is offering me is exactly what he offers every other woman who’s flitted in and out of his life. A temporary affair, something meaningless and conveniently disposable, since that’s all he can handle.