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?

Yeah. I’m being ridiculous. I can’t help it.

“What happened to me last night just proves once and for all I need to get out of here. I hate this place.” I drain my coffee cup, feeling his intense gaze on me. Uh-oh.

“Gimme a break. Like it couldn’t happen to you somewhere else? Sacramento has a higher crime rate than here,” he points out.

“Yeah, and it’s a much bigger city, too. We live in Podunk-ville.” I shrug, getting up and going to the coffeemaker so I can pour myself another cup. I keep my back to him, not wanting to have this conversation any longer. Afraid of what I might say if he pushes too much more.

“Does this have anything to do with me? Are you upset with me for some reason? Because you’re acting like it.” He pushes his chair out and I hear him approach, feel his body heat when he draws near. “Are you blaming me for what happened?”

I whirl around, startled when I find him standing much closer than I’d originally thought. Being faced with acres of naked masculine flesh leaves my mouth dry and I eat him up greedily with my gaze, marveling at all of that gorgeous muscly goodness. Jerking my eyes away from his chest, I look at him, finding him watching me with a look on his face that indicates he can read my every thought.

How freaking embarrassing! I’m supposed to be angry and indifferent, right?

I am so not indifferent. And he knows it.

“Of course I don’t blame you,” I say. “I’m the idiot who wasn’t watching where she was going.”

“I should’ve picked you up at the door,” he throws back at me.

“I should’ve texted asking you to pick me up at the door,” I throw right back.

Briefly closing his eyes, he breathes deep, as if he needs to search for the right words to say. “I’m the one who should’ve watched out for you. I’m your employer. Your friend. Your . . .” His voice trails off.