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“Don’t do this right now,” she said.
“Do what?” I was officially frustrated. “Isla. Be with me. In real life.”
She glanced over at Nick, who was working but clearly listening. “I’m not discussing this with you now.”
“Then I don’t want to discuss it at all,” I said.
Ever since Isla had admitted she was in love with me, she’d been jumpy and agitated and nervous. I couldn’t make her be okay with her emotions. But I also didn’t have to be the guy she hated to be in love with.
“Are you breaking up with me?” she asked, sounding outraged.
No. But I decided maybe I needed to push her. “Maybe I am.”
“Oh, that’s just great. Awesome timing. Good job.” She threw her hands up.
“You’re either in it to win it or you’re not.” I wasn’t even sure what the hell that meant, but I was pissed.
“I don’t even know what the hell that means,” she said, echoing my own thoughts. “But I don't appreciate an ultimatum.”
“I don’t appreciate having to pretend like I haven’t seen you naked.”
“Oh, shit,” Nick said, freezing in the middle of reaching for a mixing bowl.
Isla swore under her breath and turned back to her smoker.
I grabbed the grater I’d taken from her hand and stomped off with it.
This was a fight. Nothing more. Not the end of us.
I stared after Sean. That was it? We were just done? I felt bewildered and shocked.
Neither of which I had time to feel since we had to cook barbecue all freaking night. I had to just put my head down and do what needed to be done. Hell, that’s what I had been doing since I was fifteen.
Yet there was a pit in my stomach. As the hours ticked by, Sean was avoiding me. When we did have to discuss something he was short and to the point. It was wearing on me because I didn’t want our relationship to be over. It had just started.
The event area felt eerie by four in the morning, with the noise level reduced to a low hum, the streetlights harsh, attracting bugs that bounced off the lights. Most stations had cookers sitting down, resting before the final push, smokers sending up an array of delicious protein scents.
I sat down next to the smoker with a cup of coffee in my hand. I was exhausted and scared. I realized I had barely given a thought to Martin. All I could think about was Sean and my career and how I was supposed to mesh the two.
Sean sat down beside me but he didn’t look at me. He put his forearms on his thighs and sighed. “Look, Isla. I’m thirty-five years old and I haven’t had a serious relationship in a long time. But that’s precisely why I don’t want us to mess this up. I don’t fall in love easily but when I do, I fall hard. I’m not going to pretend that I’m not in love with you. I just can’t do that.”
“I…” I had no idea what to say. The words felt trapped in my throat, whatever they were going to be. They were held in place by fear, pure terror that I would lose Sean now or at some point in the future and it would hurt. So damn much. I couldn’t lose anyone else. It would be less painful if I lost him now, so I sat there, frozen, unable to say a single thing.
He lifted his head and eyed me. “Are you ready for this? For you and me? Be honest.”
“I don’t know.” I wanted to say that I was, but that would be a lie. I felt too scared to feel certain of what we were doing.
Sean sighed. He reached out and squeezed my knee. “Maybe this isn’t our time then. Maybe in two years we can try again when I’m ready to open my restaurant, if we’re both single. But only if we can commit. Fully, truly commit. It’s like cooking with jalapeños. You have to go all in and commit to the heat or there’s no point in having them.”
Oh my God, why wasn’t I saying anything? What the hell was wrong with me? But I sat there, trap shut, and watched him stand up and walk away.
I needed some air. Pushing myself frantically off the low stool I was sitting on, I tossed my coffee in the trash and shoved past Nick. “Watch the fire,” I told him, frantic to escape.
“What? Why?”
“Just do it. Please.”
I needed to call Gus.
