“Oh no you don’t,” Brielle calls out when we both see Josie with the security key card in her hand. Brielle takes it from her and continues to pick up my stuff.
“Thanks, Bree.”
Josie doesn’t say anything, just takes off back to her desk with her tail between her legs. Aiden looks at her with his lips pressed flat, then bends down and goes to lift me.
“That’s not necessary.”
“I don’t care. You’re hurt, and I’m going to carry you.” I shake my head and concede. There’s an entire foyer full of people looking at me, but Aiden insists on carrying me out the doors and down the stairs to the parking garage. Brielle follows behind with my handbag.
“Oh my, what happened here?” Mike calls out, rushing to get the door open.
“I’m fine, Mike. Nothing more than a couple of scratched knees that an overprotective partner can’t handle.”
Aiden places me down on the ground and helps me into the car as Brielle hands me my handbag. “Make sure everything’s in there,” she warns.
“Thanks. Will do.”
Bree hugs Aiden, then walks to her new car. It’s a Porsche Boxster convertible in a gold color. Very sporty and very her. She bought it for herself with money she’s making from working at O’Connell Finance. With her staying at Killian’s, she needs her own transportation.
After the quick drive home, Aiden, being his overprotective self, carries me from the parking garage to our apartment, placing me on the sofa.
“Now, you stay here while I get something to clean up your knees.” I nod and turn on the television.
“Jeni, we’re out of antiseptic ointment. I’m going to head to the drug store. Relax until I get back, and I’ll have you fixed up in no time.”
“You don’t have to do that. I’ll be—”
“No, I do. It’s deep and might get infected,” he interrupts while pushing the button for the elevator.
I shake my head, and as soon as he’s gone, I get off the sofa and take my AirPods off the table and place them in my ears. I turn the music up loudly and walk to the kitchen to make something for dinner. He’s fussing over absolutely nothing—my knees are fine, just a little grazed. Let’s face it, I’m used to it being a klutz.
Pulling out some pans, I add a little oil to one and turn on the heat, figuring I’ll cook fried chicken. I place two crumbed chicken breasts into the hot pan, then wash my fingers and dance along to the music playing loudly in my ears.
With the chicken cooked, I take them out and set them on some paper towels to soak up any residual oil. Turning off the stove, I figure now’s a good time to get changed, so I head to the bedroom, dancing along to the music still blaring in my ears.
Dressed in my usual little negligee, I make my way to the living room and see the elevator doors are closing. Assuming Aiden is home, with a smile, I head to the kitchen to find him.
Suddenly, I hear the blaring fire alarm through the music from my AirPods and smoke wafts from the kitchen, filling the living room. My instincts kick in, and I rush forward but as I turn the corner, I see the pan of oil has caught fire. Flickers of orange and red flames rush up the wall to the ceiling, almost in a raging torrent.
I pause in shock—Aiden’s nowhere to be seen.
My heart starts to race as I begin to panic. I have no idea what to do.
Smoke billows through the room quickly as I yank the AirPods from my ears.
Rushing to the fire blanket, I throw it on the fire. The flames quickly extinguish, but smoke fills the room in its hazy gray state which makes me cough heavily. The thick plumes invade my lungs, making it harder to breathe.
The elevator chimes as I try to fan the smoke away from my face. It’s stinging my eyes.
“What the hell?” Aiden drops the antiseptic cream on the floor as smoke floods the apartment. “Jeni?” he yells, panic-stricken.
“I’m in here,” I call out, coughing, trying to gain some air.
Aiden rushes over, pulling me tightly to him. He looks all over my body checking for burns. “Fucking Christ, Jeni. What the hell happened?” He starts fanning the smoke away from our faces while I cough. “C’mon, let’s get you some fresh air.” He takes my hand, rushing me over to the balcony and opens the door for the smoke to evacuate. Gently, he rubs my back as I continue to cough, my lungs constricted by the fumes.
Honestly, my chest is tight, and I’m feeling a little woozy as more time passes. “I turned the stove off. I know I did,” I say more to myself than to Aiden.
He picks up his phone, calling Mike. “Don’t worry about that. As long as you’re safe, that’s all that matters.” He kisses my forehead. “Yes, Mike, we’ve had a small fire up here, and… yes, yes, we’re fine. But could you come up and have a look at the damage while I take Jeni to the hospital?”