Page 10 of The Heat Between Us

"Already on her way," he says. "And don't think this conversation is over. We'll be discussing your solo rescue attempt once the doctors clear you."

I nod, knowing there's likely a formal reprimand in my future. Worth it, though. Worth every second of the chief's lecture if Chloe's okay.

As the paramedics help me onto a stretcher—which I protest is unnecessary until a wave of dizziness proves them right—Max appears at my side.

"Want me to come with you?" he offers. "Jennie's at work, so I'm free."

The offer touches me. Max and I have been friends since we joined the department, but things have been different since he started dating Jennie three months ago. Not bad different, just... less available different.

"Thanks, but I'm fine," I assure him. "Stay and help with the cleanup."

Max nods, then gives me a knowing look. "So, this lawyer... she single?"

Despite everything, I feel a grin tugging at my lips. "Worried about Jennie already?"

"Not for me, idiot," Max laughs. "For you. I saw the way you wouldn't let her go. And you've been asking about her non-stop."

I'm saved from having to respond by the paramedics loading me into the ambulance. As the doors close, I catch one last glimpse of the ruined building where, amid all the destruction, I met someone who made me forget about everything else—even the fire raging around us.

The hospital is exactly as I remember it from my many visits over the years—both professional and personal. The same antiseptic smell, the same fluorescent lighting that makes everyone look slightly ill, the same efficient but harried staff.

After a thorough examination, chest X-rays, and more oxygen, the doctor finally pronounces me stable enough to be discharged.

"You were lucky," Dr. Aaron says, reviewing my chart. "No significant damage to your lungs, though you'll probably have a sore throat and cough for a few days. Take it easy, drink plenty of fluids, and come back if you develop fever or worsening symptoms."

"What about Chloe?" I ask for what must be the tenth time since arriving. "Chloe Bennett? She came in with smoke inhalation."

Dr. Aaron gives me a look I can't quite decipher. "Ms. Bennett is still being treated. That's all I can tell you unless you're family."

"I'm the one who pulled her out of the fire," I say, frustration creeping into my voice.

"And that was very heroic," he acknowledges. "But HIPAA regulations still apply. If you want to wait in the visitors' lounge, someone will update you when there's news they can share."

It's not the answer I want, but I know it's the best I'm going to get. I thank the doctor and, after changing into the clean clothes Ollis brought me in the meantime, make my way to the visitors' lounge.

The room is depressingly familiar—faded blue chairs, outdated magazines, a TV mounted in the corner playing a cooking show with the volume too low to hear. I settle into a chair with a view of the corridor, hoping to catch sight of anyone who might have information about Chloe.

As the minutes tick by, I find myself replaying our time trapped in the burning building. The way she stayed calm even when I told her help might be a while coming. Her laugh when I made that stupid joke about asking her on a date. The feeling of her in my arms as we huddled together, sharing what might have been our last breaths.

It's crazy, I know. We just met. Under normal circumstances, I'd barely know her name by now and maybe would have noticed her around town and thought about asking her out. But there was nothing normal about the way we met, and nothing normal about the connection I felt with her.

"You know, glaring at the clock won't make time go faster."

I look up to find Nurse Wilson—Gladys—standing over me with a small smile. She's been working at Cedar Falls Memorial as long as I can remember, and she treated me for everything from chicken pox to a broken arm when I was a kid.

"Gladys," I say, standing to give her a quick hug. "Good to see you. Though I wish it were under better circumstances."

"You and me both," she says, looking me over with a critical eye. "Heard you played hero again."

I shrug, uncomfortable with the characterization. "Just doing my job."

"Hmm," she says, clearly unconvinced.

"Have you heard anything about Chloe Bennett? The woman who was brought in with me?"

Gladys's expression softens. "Still being treated, last I heard. Smoke inhalation can be tricky. They want to make sure her lungs are clear before they move her to a regular room."

It's not much more than Dr. Aaron told me, but something about hearing it from Gladys makes it feel more real, more reliable.

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