Page 83 of Sinfully Shameless Chef

“I am.” Staring into his rich bourbon eyes, glimmering with tears for me, makes this even harder than I could have predicted. “We had some fun. And great sex.” I force a smile. “But we both know this was never going to be anything more than that. Having fun.” I sweep my hands over myself. “And I'm done having fun for the foreseeable future. You have a business to go run. A restaurant to open. Adoring fans who are waiting for you. So, go. There isn't anything for you here.”

My words hang between us like atom bombs threatening to decimate everything in their path. In this case, any affection Jameson might have for me. Then they seem to hit him—one by one. Word by painful word.

He opens his mouth and closes it again.

It gives me an opening to lay the final blow, the one below the belt sure to knock him down for the count. “Hell. You're probably happy you finally got rid of the competition.”

“Jesus Christ, Izzy…is that what you really think? That's what you really think of me? That I would be happy about this? You being sick?” He shoves out of his chair and leans over me, anger flaring deep in his eyes that held so much concern only moments ago. “That's how little you think of me?”

OF COURSE NOT!

I want to scream the words. I want to tell him how much I want him to stay. I want to have him climb into this bed with me and pull me into his strong, warm arms.

But I can’t.

Because I would never burden him with this. With having to sit here and watch me die slowly if I don't get a kidney. Or the weeks and months of recovery it's going to take to get back to a semi-normal life, even if, by some miracle, I do get one.

All the pills and tests and doctor’s appointments and everything else I will have to go through.

The emotional expense—I won't make him pay it.

“I do think that, Jameson. And I think it's time for you to leave.”

He rears back like I just slapped him, his mouth hanging open and looking completely lost. It hurt him, but the shameless, confident Prime Chef winner like him doesn’t get knocked down for long. Look at the way he came storming back from what I did to his menu. He’ll move on—likely sooner rather than later. And I’ll just be a distant memory of a few good nights.

I have to believe that. If I don’t, I might reach out for him.

But he turns on his heel and storms out of the room like he can't get away from me fast enough, eliminating that possibility.

It's exactly what I wanted. What I knew I had to do from the moment I woke up in this bed and realized what was happening and that Jameson was here. That doesn't mean it wasn't one of the most painful things I've ever had to do in my entire life.

This alone may kill me even if my damn kidneys don't.

21

EIGHT WEEKS LATER

IZZY

I glance at Ashley in the driver’s seat. “Do we really need to do this today?”

She nods enthusiastically before returning her eyes to the road. “Yes. We really do. I told you Rochelle wants to start listing the place again and that we need to come to get a few things out of there before she can do that. You know…personal items.”

Personal items?

I don't know what “personal items” I possibly could have left there that are of any importance. If they were, I would've needed them over the last two months and they would already be gone, but if that’s the hang up on getting the place leased out to someone else, then I guess it needs to happen.

God knows I won’t be using it and can’t afford to pay the rent anymore.

The closer we get to the restaurant, the more my stomach turns and my hands get clammy. I wipe them against my jeans.

Ashley catches the move. “Why are you so nervous? I told you…I doubt he'll even be there. It's why we’re coming so early.”

I peer out the window at the rising fall sun trickling onto the street through the buildings. “I'm just not ready. I don't know if I can handle seeing him right now.”

Things have been difficult enough with my recovery without throwing Jameson into the mix. I thought being sick and waiting for a kidney was the hard part, but then once they found a match, it was like an entirely new battle erupted.

First, the infection that almost killed me, then antirejection meds that made me sicker than a dog. It feels like I've been fighting a war for months after finally ending the one with Jameson. And I guess, in a way, I have been—a war for my life.

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