Page 82 of Sinfully Shameless Chef

“As good as can be expected, I guess.”

It’s the same awkward question patients always get asked in these situations, and there really isn't any good way to answer it. Nothing has changed since he left yesterday, except I’ve had a few more drugs pumped into me that have artificially made me feel a little better for a very short period of time.

He nods and glances around the room while he rubs at the back of his neck. “There anything else I can bring you that would make you more comfortable? I was going to cook for you, but I wasn’t sure what you were allowed to eat.”

Dammit. Why does he have to be sweet?

It was so much easier when he was an asshole.

I shake my head. “No. Ashley already went to my place and got me everything I need.”

He clasps his hands on his lap and rocks forward slightly.

God, he’s so uncomfortable.

The confident, shameless Jameson Fury is gone, erased by the stupid disease ravaging my body. A tear trickles down his cheek, and he reaches up to swipe it off.

Shit. Did I really just see that?

A vise wraps itself around my ribcage and squeezes. The pain the rest of my body has been experiencing is nothing compared to what I know is about to come. Because I hate seeing him like this. This isn't him. This isn't who he is meant to be. It's not who I want him to be. This shell of a person who stays because of some kind of obligation or pity.

I can’t allow that.

“Thank you for the flowers, Jameson. They’re beautiful.”

He offers me a tentative smile and motions toward them. “I asked Rachel what kind to get you. They were her suggestion. She says hi, by the way. Everyone does. And that they’re thinking about you.”

“That's nice.”

And completely unnecessary.

The whole Fury family is now caught up in my drama all because the two of us couldn’t keep our hands off each other.

He releases a sigh. “So, what's next?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, are you going to get to go home, or do you stay here now until they have a kidney for you?”

God, he's cute. So adorable wanting to understand.

“I stay until they get me a little bit healthier, but I go home until I have a kidney and come back for dialysis three times a week. I’ll be exhausted and weak and still spend a lot of my time in the hospital.”

This is so much harder than I had prepared myself for.

I take as deep a breath as I can manage and hold his gaze. “But you don't have to.”

He stills and narrows his eyes on me. “What do you mean?”

“You don't need to be here, Jameson. I didn't ask you to—”

“I know you didn't ask me to be here, Izzy. I want to be here.”

His words and the emotion lacing them bring the prick of tears to my eyes. The pain he feels is palpable. And here I thought I was the one suffering.

I blink away the threatening tears and refocus on my mission. “There isn't any reason for you to be here, Jameson. Thank you for bringing me to the hospital. Really. I appreciate it. If it happened when I would have been home alone, I might not be here. But there's no reason for you to stay.”

“No reason for me to stay?” He clenches his jaw so tightly, a muscle there tics. “Are you serious right now?”

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