Page 3 of The Heat Between Us

"I'm Chloe," she says, her voice steadier than I'd expect from someone trapped in a burning building. She's tougher than she looks.

The flames are growing higher around us, feeding on the old wood and what smells like fresh paint. The heat is intense, pressing against us like a living thing. I need to think fast.

"We need to move away from the main area," I tell her, scanning the room for options. "Is there a back room? Somewhere with fewer flammable materials?"

She nods, pointing toward a doorway on the far side. "My office is back there. It's mostly empty except for some boxes."

I guide her in that direction, keeping my body between her and the worst of the flames. The smoke is getting thicker, hanging heavy near the ceiling. I pull off my jacket and hold it out to her.

"Cover your mouth and nose with this," I say. "Stay low."

She takes it without question, pressing the fabric to her face as we crouch and move toward the office. I can't help noticing how the ash has settled in her dark hair, how her curves fill out her dusty jeans and t-shirt. Even covered in soot, she's beautiful in a way that catches me off guard.

But I need to lock in. Not the time for distractions.

Once we're in the smaller room, I close the door behind us, buying us a little time. There's a window here, but it's covered with security bars—no exit that way. The room is sparse: a few cardboard boxes, a folding table, and what looks like a brand-new desk chair still in its packaging.

"We should be okay in here for a bit," I tell her, trying to sound more confident than I feel. The truth is, we're in trouble. The main exit is blocked, and my team—

Shit. My team.

I haven't told her yet that they're currently dealing with a warehouse fire on the other side of town. I got the call on my radio just before I spotted the smoke coming from this building and decided to check it out on my own. They'll come as soon as they can, but it could be a while.

She must see something in my expression because her eyes narrow.

"What aren't you telling me?"

I take a deep breath, which is a mistake in the smoky air. After a fit of coughing, I meet her gaze directly. "My team is handling another fire across town. They've been notified, but it might be a while before they can get here."

To my surprise, she doesn't panic. Instead, she nods once, processing the information. "So we're on our own. What do we do?"

"We stay calm, we conserve oxygen, and we look for another way out," I say, admiring her composure. "These old buildings sometimes have access points to neighboring structures. Is there anything like that you know of?"

She shakes her head. "I just started leasing this place yesterday. I barely know where the fuse box is."

I scan the room again, noting how the smoke is starting to seep under the door. We don't have much time before this room becomes as dangerous as the one we left. Chloe is watching me, her eyes trusting despite the situation. Something about herquiets the usual chaotic thoughts that race through my head. I need to be methodical. For her.

"Tell me about the building," I say, moving to check the walls for any signs of alternative exits. "Anything you've noticed, any quirks or features."

"It's old," she says, following my lead and examining the opposite wall. "The woman upstairs—Mabel—said the wiring was ancient. That's probably what started the fire."

I nod. "Electrical fires spread fast in old buildings like this."

As if to emphasize my point, there's a crash from the outer room—something large collapsing. Chloe jumps, and I instinctively move closer to her. She's trembling now, the reality of our situation finally setting in.

"Hey," I say softly, placing my hands on her shoulders. "Look at me."

Her eyes meet mine, wide and dark with fear.

"We're going to be okay," I tell her. "I've been in worse situations than this. Way worse."

"Really?" she asks, skepticism breaking through her fear.

I nod, offering a small smile. "I once had to rescue a three-hundred-pound man who got stuck in his bathtub during a house fire. Naked. This is definitely better than that."

A surprised laugh escapes her, just as I'd hoped. The tension in her shoulders eases slightly under my hands.

"There we go," I say. "That's better. Panic uses up oxygen, and we need to stay clearheaded."

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