I woke up early the next morning and found that my body was stiff. I had a kink in my neck from sleeping at such an awkward angle, and my back ached from sitting up all night.

I groaned as I get to my feet, my body protesting the movement. The hospital chair wasn't the most comfortable place to sleep, and I quickly regretted my decision to stay the night. But at least I was able to get a few hours of sleep without the terrifying nightmare haunting every moment.

I took one more look at the unconscious man and squeezed his hand gently, before walking to the parking lot to find my car. On my way home, I made a quick trip to Target to buy the essentials and to purchase a new laptop because, with my job, I couldn't last more than a day without one. After I stocked up on microwavable mac and cheese, frozen TV dinners, and dog food, I made my way back to the hotel.

"Hey, boy," I said, wrapping Harley in a warm embrace as he ran to greet me. He responded with a yawn and an enthusiastic lick on my cheek.

After taking Harley on a walk, I ordered a pizza and hunkered down in the hotel to get some work done on my new laptop. Regardless of the unpredictable events over the last twenty-four hours, I had assignments due soon, and my boss wouldn't be thrilled if I got them in late.

I was too distracted to focus, my unrelenting worries nagging me incessantly. My anxiety took center stage, and all I could do was worry about the what-ifs: Was I safe in the hotel, or would the wildfires flare up and come for me again? Would I have to move out of Chico until I could find a new place to live, or would I be better off leaving California altogether? And the biggest worry of all- was Jake doing any better?

Several hours passed, but my computer screen remained as blank as my wandering mind. Before I knew it, the sun was setting, and the day was gone. With a sigh, I closed the laptop and put the news on the TV in a futile attempt to keep myself awake. Unfortunately, all of the stations were covering the fires, something that I didn't want to be reminded of. Though I dreaded what might happen when I closed my eyes, I turned off the TV and laid my head on my pillow anyway.

Harley was out like a light in a matter of minutes, seemingly unfazed by our recent experience, but I couldn't sleep. My mind was overactive, thinking about what terrors the night might bring. When I finally dozed off, the nightmares came, just as I feared that they would.

I was lost, standing alone in a dark room that was encased by fire and filled to the brim with smoke. There was only one exit, and it was consumed by the hot flames. Jake stood in the doorway, a smile on his face and his arm outstretched, reaching for me. He seemed oblivious to the fire lapping at trusses of his suit. I was filled with a sudden fear of losing this man who I had only just met. It consumed me, and all I could think was not him. As the fire closed in, I screamed for Jake to go, to get out of harm's way. In the end, my pleas made no difference; I was already too late.

The request had barely left my mouth when Jake's suit caught fire. He began to burn, his cries of pain reverberating around the fire-filled room. His brown eyes stared at me accusingly. I couldn't force my eyes away as he continued to burn in the scorching fire. He was quickly devoured by the flames as they penetrated his body, melting his skin like wax from a candle. The flames licked against his body until he was little more than a skeleton that had been charred to a crisp, his corpse still starring condemning daggers at me.

When I woke up, I couldn't breathe. I was hyperventilating as though the smoke was still surrounding me, the putrid vapors still cutting off my airways. I needed out of the room, needed to be somewhere, anywhere but there. Without even changing out of my pajamas, I grabbed my car keys and headed back to the hospital. It was the only location where I felt safe, the place that was quickly becoming my sanctuary.

This became my routine for the next several days- walk Harley, stare blindly at my computer, get lost in my nightmares, and end up back at the hospital. Each night I would visit Jake, and each night I would fall asleep peacefully by his side. As trite as it sounded, the fact that Jake was a firefighter gave me a sense of safety from the thing I now feared the most. I felt a sense of peace when I was with him that I couldn't get anywhere else.

Oddly, I felt closer to this comatose man than I had anyone else in my life. The hospital was the one place where the nightmares didn't threaten to consume me. Somehow I knew that Jake was the reason why.

I had gotten used to this pattern, finding a semblance of normalcy and peace for the first time since the wildfires happened. But one night, as I arrived to visit Jake, everything was different. As I walked into the hospital lobby, the friendly nurse I had met a few days ago gave me the biggest smile. I returned the gesture with a tight grin and furrowed my eyes, perplexed, but kept walking to Jake's room without questioning it further.

When I pulled open the wooden door, it took me a moment to realize that Jake was sitting up in bed, wide awake. His dark brown eyes were open, staring out the window at the stars twinkling high above the building, barely discernible beneath the city lights. His face had regained some of its color, and he was free of the machines that were keeping him alive just twelve hours ago.

I gasped in surprise, and my laptop case fell to the floor. A deep scarlet blush floods my face when Jake's gaze found mine. 

"Hello," he said hoarsely.

"Hi," I breathed, scurrying to pick up my bag.

His chocolate eyes squinted as he tried to place my face, and I felt my cheeks heat even further. Was I supposed to tell him the truth about who I was? Would he think I was a crazy stalker if I admitted that I had been falling asleep by his bedside, holding his hand every night for the past week? If someone told me that, I would call security.

"You probably don't remember me," I mumbled, but he cut me off.

"No, I do. Nearly dying together makes you pretty unforgettable," he said with a weak smile.

I cringed at his words. How could he be so dismissive of such a traumatic experience?

"However, we haven't been properly introduced. My name is Jake. Jake Lucero," he said, putting his hand out to shake mine.

"Catalina De la Rosa, but everyone calls me Cat," I said, slipping my hand into his.

I couldn't miss the surge of electricity that flowed through my body at his touch. I pulled my hand away as though I'd been shocked. One look at Jake's face told me that he had felt it too.

I stood awkwardly near the foot of his bed, awkward silence stretching between us, as I still tried to comprehend that Jake was okay. With a sigh of relief, I finally confessed the thought that had plagued my mind during the last several days.

"I was afraid you weren't going to make it," I whispered, my voice so low that I was unsure if he'd heard me.

"I was too, for a minute," he admitted. "But lucky for me, our fire suits are nearly impenetrable. Nearly," he said, gesturing to his bandaged forearm. I fought back tears as I gazed at his mangled skin.

"I'm sorry," I said. "This entire thing is my fault."

"No, Cat, don't say that. You couldn't have prevented this from happening," he said with kind eyes. "I knew what I was doing when I ran inside your house. I understood the risks, and I knew that it could end up so much worse than it did. But if I hadn't tried to help you, I never would have forgiven myself," he said, his face solemn. "Besides, I'm okay now. Please don't cry for me," he said, as a single tear fell down my cheek. "The doctor is even releasing me tomorrow. I'm going to be perfectly fine."

"I'm glad that you're going to be okay," I say with a watery smile. It didn't ease my guilt, but at least I knew he would survive. "And I'm happy that you're awake because I wanted to thank you face to face for what you did for me. If you hadn't come to my rescue when you did, things would have ended much differently," I said, an involuntary shudder coursing through me.

"I'd love to buy you a cup of coffee to repay the favor. Not that those two things are on the same level, but it's the best I can do. I don't have gallant gestures to give like you do," I admitted with a shrug.

Jake gave a small laugh. "Coffee sounds nice."

I reached into my purse and pulled out a pen and a scrap piece of paper. "This is my number," I said, writing my cell number on the paper and handing it to him. "Give me a call when you feel better, and we'll set something up." 

He took the paper with his good arm and smiled. "Will do."

"I'll let you get some rest."

I walked toward the exit but before I left the room, I hesitated in the doorway.

"I really am glad that you're okay," I said earnestly. "I'm so grateful to you, Jake. Truly. You are my hero in every sense of the word. I owe you my life," I said before walking away, leaving him blushing behind me.

                         * * * * * * * * * *

As I stared at my computer screen, I realized just how exhausted I was. The last three nights had been difficult, and my sleep deprivation worse than ever before. I had begun drinking coffee like a madwoman in an attempt to stay awake, avoiding my hellish nightmares for as long as possible.

I wanted nothing more than to go back to the hospital, to the one place where I could get some rest, but I knew Jake had already been released. Although I was grateful that he was okay, I couldn't help but to selfishly miss the nights spent in peaceful slumber by his side.

Jake- my distracted mind thought of him often. It had been nearly a week since I had given him my phone number, and he still hadn't called. I felt like a teenager, jumping each time my phone vibrated in the vain hope that it might be him. But with each notification, I was left disappointed.

My near-death experience had awakened an awareness in me that I needed to do more with my life. I didn't want to die and the only thing in my obituary be- "This was Cat. She worked hard, and did her job well."

I was thirty years old and, other than my career achievements, I had accomplished nothing in my life. It's why I had taken a chance with Jake and put myself out there for the first time in a long time. But here I was, waiting for him to call. That's what I get for being so forthright.

I wasn't sure why it bothered me so much that Jake hadn't contacted me. I barely knew the man. Other than sleeping at his bedside like some sort of psychopath, we'd hardly been in a room together. Yet, I couldn't fight the bizarre attraction that I felt for him.

As the days passed, I began to feel more and more imprudent. Jake had saved me, yes, but only because it was his job. That didn't mean he wanted to date me. I was nobody to him. Jake hadn't even fully recovered yet, and I was already trying to hit on him. How stupid.

I had almost resigned that he wasn't going to call and that I had made a fool of myself, when my phone vibrated one evening with an unknown number.

"Hello?" I answered after the first ring, my voice rushed and a few octaves too high.

"Erm, Cat?" the voice asked. "It's Jake Lucero- from the hospital."

"Oh hi, Jake. How have you been?" I replied, jumping to my feet. I tried to sound nonchalant, but in reality, my heart was pounding.

"Much better. I meant to call sooner, but I've been knocked out on pain medication," he explained. I felt a weight lifted from my chest- maybe he wasn't avoiding me after all. "I was wondering if you still wanted to get that coffee."

"Yes," I said, far too enthusiastically. I slapped my palm against my forehead, silently reprimanding myself as I heard a soft chuckle on the other line.

"Okay, how about this afternoon? We can meet at Starbucks at 1:00?"

"That sounds great," I agreed.

As we hung up the phone, I found myself smiling. For the first time in a long time, I was looking forward to something, and I had Jake Lucero to thank for that.

Thank you for reading! If you are enjoying this story so far, don't forget to vote! :)

© Dawn Norwell