Page 46 of Burning Rivalry

How could he look so surprised? “Even now?” he asked, laughing like I told a joke. His chestnut curls gleamed under the light over the door, reminding me how I used to love running my fingers through them. I was a different person then.

“What, did you think a near-death experience would make me rethink my mistakes?” I asked, understanding that was exactly what he thought would happen when he winced. “I didn’t make a mistake. That was you as soon as you decided to bring my so-called friend back to my bedroom so you could screw her.”

Those dark, puppy dog eyes shone. I hated them now. “That was a mistake. Are you going to make me pay for it for the rest of my life?”

“No, Brandon, because I don’t care about the rest of your life.” I closed my eyes, taking a couple of deep breaths. “This is too much. Thanks for coming all this way, but you didn’t need to.”

“I can’t believe you would be like this. I came out here to beg you to come home with me, where you belong.”

If I were capable of it, I would have laughed. Instead, I shook my head, exhausted by the situation and him. It was like I had lived all those years in the dark. Years of loving him, standing by him, believing him when he told me we were forever. The lights were on now, and I saw everything. There was no going back to fix the past, but I could at least make sure not to make the same mistakes.

“I do not belong with you, for one thing,” I replied, disdainful. “And for another thing, I wouldn’t have come out here if it weren’t for you, so stop acting like you had no part in it. This is my home now.” That was true, and it startled me a little. Life had a way of forcing my hand, making me face the things I had missed.

“Ridiculous!” he hissed, waving a hand toward the kitchen behind me. “We both know you’re going nowhere out here. I’ve been reading the stuff they’re writing online about you and this Sebastian dick working together. Remember the dreams you had? Your Michelin Star? Whatever happened to that? Did you completely give up on yourself?”

He knew how to hit where it hurt. “That is none of your business.”

“And there’s my answer.” The bastard had the nerve to sound disapproving. “You gave up. I’m disappointed in you.”

“Remind me what gives you the idea I care about your opinion.”

“Fine. You don’t care about my opinion? What about everybody else back in New York?” Pausing, he folded his arms over his polo shirt, a smug grin touching the corners of his mouth. “Including Bailey Ryan.”

He had a way of shocking me, that was for sure. Hers was the last name I expected to hear, a chef I had worked with short-term before the competition to bone up on some of my skills. “What about her?” I asked, affecting a careless attitude when what I felt was anything but.

“I had dinner at her restaurant last weekend,” he explained, narrowing his eyes. Studying me, knowing what my reaction would probably be. “She asked about you, saying something about how she wished you were still in town because she’s in need of a new pastry chef and thought of you right away.”

“You’re lying.” There was no way. The woman was a legend before she turned forty, boasting a wall full of awards, along with a Michelin Star, which she’d been awarded two years earlier.

“Am I? Why don’t you give her a call and find out? She told me she lost your number, but if I could get in touch with you, I should pass on the message. You know the job won’t be open for long,” he concluded, wearing a familiar smirk that told me he thought he won.

A Michelin Star. Actually working with someone who wanted to innovate. Somebody who wouldn’t hold me back but would encourage me to grow. Everything I always wanted back in my hometown. No more desert air, no more being so far away from Hadley and the friends I missed in New York.

No Sebastian.

My stomach dropped as it had when I dangled over the edge of The Strat. We had something here, the two of us, even if the future of Home Again was in jeopardy. In the end, everything would be all right. I was sure of it. I believed in him.

That was what made my decision, knowing I believed in him. He would find a way through this, and I wanted to go along for the ride.

“I will get in touch with Bailey,” I decided, standing slowly, careful not to make any quick moves that might leave me feeling dizzy. “Thank you for passing on the message.”

“What are you going to tell her?”

“It’s none of your business. Not anymore.”

“She’s not going to wait forever,” he snapped. “This is a limited-time offer, and you are not the only pastry chef in the world.”

“I realize that, but thank you for the reminder.” He had reminded me of so many other things too—how he was never right for me. I had only ever tried to convince myself he was, determined to prove Hadley and anyone else wrong for doubting him, my stubborn pride biting me in the ass.

I would not let that happen again. He was not going to lure me back by reminding me of my dreams. He didn’t know the first thing about them anymore, just like he’d never known how to really support me. I had already wasted enough of my life giving a shit what he thought. “Now, go. I didn’t invite you, and I’ve seen enough of you to last me the rest of my life.”

He hesitated like he was waiting for me to change my mind. When I didn’t, his arms dropped to his sides, fists clenched.

I looked at them, then back into his eyes. “Is your hearing going?” I asked. “Please leave. Now.”

Rather than follow him back through the kitchen, I sat down again, trembling, knowing I made the right choice. He was my past, and the past was over. The fire had made so many things clear, burning away everything that wasn’t necessary.

One of my last thoughts before I figured it was the end was of Sebastian. The reason I started moving again? Sebastian. His appearance at my bedside while I laid there half conscious, scared, and suffering was the same as sunshine breaking through dark storm clouds, lighting up everything around me. My physical condition hadn’t changed, but inside, I was healed. He knew I needed him, and he came running.