Page 3 of Hot Touch (Love To The Rescue #3)

TWO

ALEJANDRA

People usually don’t regret staying in. They usually high five themselves for doing the right thing.

They regret going out drinking too much, spending too much, doing regrettable things with strangers in dark hidden corners and paying for it with a hangover from hell for the next two days. Not that I’d ever done anything as reckless as that.

But as I woke up slowly, my head felt heavy, and I coughed.

Instant regret started to prickle at the back of my neck, but I didn’t know why.

My thoughts felt hazy. Slow. Like I was trying to think, but everything was murky.

Clouded. My eyes opened slowly, and I tried to blink, but no matter what I did, I couldn’t seem to see my room clearly.

That’s when I was awake enough to realize what was happening.

Freaking Liz and her bad vibes manifesting the worst! I couldn’t believe it. My room was filled with thick smoke. But too bad Liz hadn’t manifested the hot fireman!

“Shit.” I coughed as I rolled out of bed, only to lean forward and feeling around my bed to find my phone.

When I found it, I hurried to turn the flashlight on.

My eyes and nose burned from the smoke that filled the small space.

I rushed toward the door and cried out when I felt just how hot it was.

Shit!” I cried out, trying to calm my breathing. Having a panic attack in that moment wouldn’t help me. Piensa, Alé! Piensa! Think. I had to think of a way out.

I looked around my small room as I lifted the thin material of my sleep shirt right over my nose. You’re supposed to cover your face in a fire, right? For some reason, that little information tidbit felt like it was lodged inside my head.

What else had we learned in school about fires?

Drop, tuck, and roll… Shit, was that for fires or earthquakes?

My head spun, and I regretted not wearing a thicker top.

It felt like all the smoky air was going right through my sleep camisole.

My lungs burned, and my throat felt scratchy.

God only knew what I was breathing in. But to be fair, it wasn’t like I knew I’d wake up to a fire or smoke or whatever the hell this was!

Regret swirled through me, holding me in a chokehold, and tears formed in my eyes. Was this it? Was this what…how I would… Sirens filled my ears, and when red and blue flashing lights caught my eyes, it felt like a lightbulb was going off in my head. My window.

That was the only way out! If my doorknob was hot, it meant the rest of the fire or whatever was going was worse behind that door. I remembered that much. My stomach tightened.

My window was the only way to safety.

If Liz thought the building was terrible, the old metal balconies and fire escapes were ten times worse.

The thought of having to climb out onto the old rickety balcony made me want to throw up.

Jackie had tried to go out there once, and the thing had groaned under her slight weight so much she had hurried back in.

I wasn’t sure if it could hold me, but in that very moment, what other choice did I have?

It was the only way out.

I moved through my cloudy room and towards the window, ignoring everything I bumped into. Piles of my books. Pictures. My things . There wasn’t a lot, but it was mine. Most of them thrifted. But there was no time. I couldn’t stop to pick and choose things to take with me.

Not when the priority was to simply get outside.

I undid the slight security latch and tried to push it up, but the thing always got stuck when the temps started to drop. I’d told the landlord when I’d moved in, and he said it was something to do with the old wood frame expanding and to be patient and, worst case, buy a fan.

A fan that was behind me because I never did have enough patience to try to get a breeze through my apartment.

Now, not only did I regret not going out with my sisters, my beautiful, loving in-their-own-way sisters, but I regretted not having the patience to figure out how to finesse the thing wide open.

“Please, please, please,” I murmured and coughed as I pushed the edge of the windowsill.

Again.

And again.

And again.

But nothing.

It didn’t budge. Not even a little.

A roaring unhinged kind of panic started to set up place inside of me. This was it. This was how… I shook my head. My ears filled with sirens and the roaring of my own blood rushing through me. I glanced down at the crowd forming on the street.

Men and women in all sorts of uniforms. All of them walking back and forth.

Some talking to each other, others speaking into walkie talkies.

So many trucks and cars and ambulances. For there to be that many vehicles, it had to be bad.

A bad fire. Not just some smoke that had appeared due to shoddy electrical work.

Panic didn’t wash through me; it took ahold of me.

Even if my building wasn’t big with two floors and only thirty units, seventeen on top and thirteen on the bottom floor, there were still a lot of people. A lot of doors to go to one by one. What if no one gets to mine?

Or worse, what if…

My eyes burned, and I felt wetness roll down my face.

What if… That short fleeting thought rushed through my head. What if… That’s as far as I let it go. Two words. That was enough of a road I didn’t want to go down for me because I dug deep.

This wasn’t how I was going to die.

I was going to get out of here. I had to. I hadn’t lived up until then. Not really. I was a twenty-six-year-old hardly-been-kissed woman who’d had sex one time.

I hadn’t done anything.

I’d lived and done things safe, always so safe, and boring. From my major in accounting to where I lived and how much I saved. And for what? My eyes burned almost as much as my lungs.

I had to get out.

I tried again and again, but the stupid, old window wouldn’t budge. It wouldn’t surprise me if it was because the stupid sills had been painted over and over through the years. God only knew how many layers of paint I was trying to cut through. Stupid, cheapskate landlord!

I pushed and pushed on that window with renewed strength, but it wouldn’t give.

If I didn’t get the window open… No! I couldn’t think that way!

When I got out of this, I would live. Not if but when.

And I’d live to the fullest! I’d say yes to everything!

Doing things is better than not doing things , Jackie’s words sing-songed in my head.

I tried to swallow down the choked cries stuck inside my chest. I’d travel and meet all sorts of new people. Eat incredible food and fall in love.

Break it. I glanced around my room and picked up a pretty vase Liz had given me, filled with flowers for my birthday. It had been sweet, her way of trying to be there when she was in Colorado working at a children’s hospital in Denver.

I loved that vase.

It was heavy and made of concrete in such a unique shape.

But at that moment, it was the first thing I knew, without a doubt, would break that glass.

I ran toward it and took it in my hand, feeling its weight.

Heavy and solid. It would help break it.

It had to. I returned to the window and winced.

I looked down at my legs. I was in nothing but short shorts, and if this window was as old as the apartment, I was more than positive the glass would shatter everywhere.

Consequences be damned. I had to do it. What are a few cuts and scrapes anyhow, in the bigger scheme of things?

I lifted it up and winced. Crap, I never knew just how heavy this thing was! I shook the thought away, ready to swing it, when someone barged right through my bedroom door.

A man.

A tall one, judging by the way his head bent to step into my room, burst through my space. Not just any man, a fireman. I was saved! His face was covered by a mask and helmet and smoke, darkness at his back. It made my eyes sting all over again. My shoulders slumped forward.

I was safe.

I didn’t have to go through the window and pray the old fire escape wouldn’t collapse under me. But then a whole other thought crept in. If I had to go with him…

Would there be flames?

Actual fire surrounding us?

The tall man stepped forward and stopped suddenly. We stood a couple feet apart and just stared at each other for a heartbeat. I had no idea what happened. He didn’t say anything, not a word, but something enveloped me as I stared at him.

Broad shoulders, thick muscled body beneath the uniform.

I couldn’t see him, couldn’t make out any of his features, not even the color of his eyes, but something came alive between us.

My head tilted slightly, trying to figure out what it was, but before I could grasp it, someone called out behind him, and he shouted back.

“I got one!” His voice was deep, even muffled through his mask. “You okay?” he asked, breaking the silence between us. I nodded because I wasn’t sure if I could trust my voice in that moment. Or my knees not to buckle.

Someone was here.

Someone who could help me get out.

I dropped my camisole from my nose, and his footsteps faltered, almost as if he was looking at me. For whatever reason surprised by me. Taking in every detail of me. And old habits die hard. Is he worried about having to carry me? Is he thinking I’ll be too heavy?

Or maybe it was my pj’s? They didn’t leave a lot to the imagination, especially without a bra.

My face felt hot, and I forced myself not to be embarrassed.

I knew I was curvier and heavier than most, but like Jackie enjoyed to remind me, that meant I had big boobs and an ass.

But because they were bigger boobs, they weren’t super perky.

I hardly ever went without a bra. Maybe he thought my boobs were saggy?

Who cares! a voice shouted, snapping me out of my thoughts.

Something rumbled, and it felt like the building itself shook.

“Shit,” I cursed, my eyes wide.