Page 15 of The Heat Between Us

Lewis laughs, and I find myself laughing too, despite my sore throat. It feels good, this moment of normalcy amid the chaos of the past day.

A thought occurs to me then, something I should have asked immediately. "Shouldn't you be at the fire station? I don't want to keep you from your job."

"I'm off duty," Lewis says. "Chief's orders, actually. Said I needed to recover from the smoke inhalation." He rolls his eyes slightly, making it clear what he thinks of that assessment. "I'm fine, but I'm not going to argue with a day off."

"A day you're spending in a hospital chair," I point out.

He shrugs, unrepentant. "Can't think of anywhere I'd rather be."

The simple statement, delivered without any hint of flirtation or exaggeration, makes something warm unfurl in my chest. How is it possible to feel this connection to someone I've known for such a short time?

Before I can respond, there's a knock at the door, and a doctor enters—young, with kind eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses.

"Ms. Bennett," he says with a smile. "I'm Dr. Aaron. How are you feeling this morning?"

"Better," I say truthfully. "Still sore, but better."

"Good, good," he says, reviewing my chart. "Your oxygen levels are much improved, and nurse Gladys says your lungs soundclear. I think we can remove the nasal cannula now and see how you do on room air."

He gently removes the oxygen tube from my nose, then listens to my breathing with his stethoscope.

"Sounds good," he pronounces after a moment. "If you continue to improve, I see no reason why we can't discharge you this afternoon. Though I do recommend having someone stay with you for at least the next 24-48 hours, just to be safe."

"That's already arranged," Lewis says from his chair, with such authority that neither the doctor nor I think to question it.

The doctor nods approvingly. "Excellent. I have a few things to care about, and I’ll return soon. Any questions?"

I shake my head, and the doctor gives me one more reassuring smile before leaving. As the door closes behind him, I turn to Lewis, a mix of emotions swirling inside me— mostly gratitude and confusion.

"You don't have to do all this, you know," I say softly. "You've already done more than enough. You saved my life."

Lewis meets my gaze steadily. "I want to," he says simply. "And not because I feel obligated or because of what happened in the fire. I want to get to know you, Chloe. Fire or no fire."

There's such honesty in his voice, such genuine interest, that I find myself believing him. This isn't about obligation or heroics. This is about two people who found a connection in the most unlikely of circumstances.

"Okay," I say, smiling despite the ache in my throat. "I want to get to know you too."

His answering smile is like the sunrise outside my window—warm and full of promise. And as we sit there, comfortable in a silence that feels older than our acquaintance, I find myselfthinking that maybe, just maybe, there was a reason I chose Cedar Falls.

Perhaps I was always meant to end up here, in this hospital room, with this man who rushed into a burning building to save a stranger and then stayed to make sure she didn't wake up alone.

It's not the fresh start I planned. It's messier, more complicated, more painful—literally, given my raw throat and aching lungs. But looking at Lewis, I can't help feeling it might be exactly the fresh start I need.

Chapter 6 - Lewis

I can't stop staring at her. It's ridiculous, I know. I should give her space, let her eat the breakfast the nurse just brought in, maybe step out and call Ollis to let him know she's awake and doing well. But there's something about the way the morning light catches in her dark hair, the quiet determination in her eyes as she tackles the unappetizing hospital oatmeal—I can't look away.

"Is it that bad?" I ask when she makes a face at the food.

Chloe looks up, a wry smile playing at her lips. "I've had better. But considering twenty-four hours ago, I wasn't sure I'd ever eat again, I'm not complaining."

Her candor hits me in the chest. We haven't really talked about that part yet—how close we came to not making it out. The image of her unconscious in my arms flashes through my mind, her face pale beneath the soot, her body limp. I've never been so afraid in my life, and I've faced down plenty of fires.

"You okay?" she asks, her expression softening. "You went somewhere else for a second there."

I shake myself back to the present. "Sorry. Just thinking."

"About the fire?" She's perceptive, this woman.

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