He looks angry as he runs a hand through his hair, pushing it into complete, sexy disarray. A sure sign that he’s frustrated. “I’m sorry about my dad. I didn’t expect him to show up. He usually calls before he comes by.”

“How often does that happen?”

“Rarely. That’s why it was such a surprise.” He rolls his eyes, something I don’t think I’ve seen him do since he was a teen. Funny how being around a parent makes us revert in age.

“It’s okay. I don’t mind that he’s here.” I shrug, trying to act like it doesn’t bother me even though it totally does.

I like having this safe haven with Colin. Hardly anyone ever comes around, so it’s pretty much always just me and him. Fable accused me a while ago of playing house with him.

I think she’s right.

“He was an ass to you and I hate that.”

“You don’t have to apologize for him,” I say, secretly thankful that he did. At least this way I know Colin is aware of his father’s behavior.

“Yeah, I think I do.” He sits on the edge of the bed and turns toward me, those beautiful blue eyes studying me, seeing everything and nothing, all at once. “Do I need to apologize for what happened in the living room before he showed up? The fight and the . . . other stuff?”

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 f**ked-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.”