CHAPTER FIFTEEN
SOPHIA
“Mom, you’re doing it again,” Madison says, stealing a fry from my plate. We’re at her favorite post-game diner, the one with sticky vinyl booths and a waitress who calls everyone “hon.”
“Doing what?”
“The worried face. He’s fine. They’re trained for this stuff.”
Troy left with Tiffany right after the game, of course. Something about a crypto emergency, which probably meant the market was tanking again. Madison didn’t seem surprised or disappointed.
“I liked Jack,” she says suddenly. “He seemed…real. Not like Dad’s new friends who are always talking about their portfolios.”
“You talked to him for thirty seconds.”
“Yeah, but he remembered my name. Plus, did you see Dad’s face when Jack had to leave for an actual emergency? Priceless. And,” she grins, “I loved his accent.”
My phone buzzes. Relief floods through me until I see it’s from Maria, not Jack.
Maria: Turn on Channel 7. NOW.
I flag down our waitress. “Excuse me, could you turn on Channel 7, please? Something about the accident.”
She grabs the remote from behind the counter and changes the channel. The anchor is mid-sentence: “…remarkable rescue by Summit County Fire Rescue paramedics. We have exclusive footage from the scene.”
Shaky phone video fills the screen. The accident is worse than I imagined—cars crushed and scattered across the highway like toys. In the center, a silver minivan is wedged under a semi-trailer, the roof partially collapsed.
And there’s Jack.
He’s half-inside the van through the passenger window, working on someone trapped inside. Even from the amateur footage, I can see the focused intensity in his movements.
“—paramedic risked his own safety to reach the trapped family,” the reporter continues. “With the vehicle unstable and leaking fuel—”
“Oh my God,” Madison breathes beside me.
The video shows Jack emerging from the van, carefully extracting a small child. He passes her to Rodriguez, then immediately dives back in. The van shifts visibly, metal groaning.
“Emergency crews report the paramedic refused to wait for extraction equipment, stating the patient’s condition was critical—”
A horrible grinding sound from the TV. The van lurches. People start shouting. The camera shakes as the person filming backs away.
But Jack doesn’t come out.
Ten seconds. Twenty. My heart hammers against my ribs.
Finally, he emerges, pulling an unconscious woman through the window just as firefighters arrive with support equipment. He and Rodriguez work on her right there on the asphalt, CPR compressions visible even in the grainy footage.
“The victim, identified as 34-year-old Margaret Le, was successfully resuscitated at the scene. She’s currently in critical but stable condition at Metro General, along with her three children, all of whom survived thanks to the quick actions of—”
I don’t hear the rest. Jack’s alive. Jack’s safe. Jack saved an entire family while I was sitting here eating fries and angsting over his text response time.
“Mom.” Madison’s hand covers mine. “You’re crushing your phone.”
I realize I’m gripping it hard enough to nearly crack the screen. “Sorry. I just—”
“You really like him.” It’s not a question.
“It’s complicated.”
“No,” she says, stealing another fry. “It’s really not.”
My phone rings. Unknown number.
“Hello?”
“Sophia?” Jack’s voice, exhausted but warm. “Sorry for the weird number. My phone’s somewhere in the back of the rig. Borrowed Rodriguez’s.”
“I saw the news.” My voice sounds steadier than I feel. “That was incredibly stupid and brave.”
He laughs, the sound rough. “Mostly stupid, according to the fire captain. How was the rest of the game?”
“Madison scored twice.” I move away from the counter, needing privacy. “Are you okay? Really okay?”
“Few bruises. Might’ve torn my uniform. Morrison’s going to kill me.” A pause. “I’m sorry I had to leave like that.”
“Don’t apologize for saving lives, Jack.”
“Your ex seemed thrilled.”
“My ex is an ass. I’m sorry about him.”
“Don’t apologize for things that aren’t your fault either.” His voice softens. “Still on for tomorrow?”
Tomorrow. Coffee. Our second date.
“Actually,” I say, making a decision, “what are you doing right now?”
“Sitting in the rig, just heading back to the station. Guess we’re covering until midnight. Why?”
“Just wondering.” I catch Madison’s eye. She’s grinning, making shooing motions. “Be safe out there.”
“Always am. Well, mostly.”
After we hang up, Madison’s practically bouncing. “You’re going to see him tonight.”
“I didn’t say—”
“Mom. Your face says everything.” She slides out of the booth. “Chloe’s mom is picking me up here in ten minutes anyway. You should go home and change into something cute.”
“Madison—”
“Something that says ‘I’m incredibly attracted to your heroic acts.’”
Forty minutes later, I’m standing outside Station 2 holding a bag of takeout from the good Thai place and wondering what the hell I’m doing. It’s 8:47 PM. I’m a charge nurse at Metro General. I don’t bring food to paramedics like some kind of…
The bay door opens. Rodriguez appears, grinning. “Well, well. Special delivery?”
“I thought you guys might be hungry.” I hold up the bag lamely. “Tough shift.”
“Uh-huh.” His grin widens. “Kiwi’s in the day room. Through there, second door on the right. I’ll be…literally anywhere else.”
The station smells like diesel and disinfectant and coffee. I follow Rodriguez’s directions, finding a small break room with mismatched furniture and a TV playing quietly.
Jack’s on a battered couch, head tipped back, eyes closed. His uniform shirt is indeed torn at the shoulder, revealing a nasty bruise underneath. He looks exhausted and heroic and absolutely beautiful.
“Hey,” I say softly.
His eyes open, focusing on me with surprise that shifts quickly to something warmer. “Sophia? What are you—”
“Brought dinner.” I hold up the bag. “Figured you earned it today.”
He sits up straighter, wincing slightly. “You saw the news?”
“Everyone saw the news. You’re probably trending.” I sit beside him, careful not to jostle his injured shoulder. “That was an incredibly stupid thing to do.”
“Had to. The mom was losing consciousness. Kids were screaming.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Couldn’t wait for the heavy rescue guys.”
“I know.” I unpack the food, noting how he favors his left arm. “Let me see that shoulder.”
“It’s fine—”
“Jack.” I use my charge nurse voice. “Let me see.”
He sighs but pulls the torn fabric aside. The bruise is spectacular—deep purple blooming across his shoulder and down his chest. I probe it gently, feeling for breaks or separations.
“Just bruising,” I conclude. “But you should ice it.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He’s smiling now. “This is good. You taking care of me.”
“Someone has to.” I hand him pad Thai. “Since you clearly have no self-preservation instincts.”
We eat in comfortable silence for a few minutes. The station is quiet—no calls, just the distant sound of someone watching TV in another room.
“So,” he says finally. “This is unexpected.”
“Good unexpected or bad unexpected?”
“Good. Definitely good.” He sets down his spoon and fork. “I was sitting here thinking about you. About how you just…understood. When the call came.”
“It’s what we do,” I say simply.
“Yeah, but Troy didn’t get it. Most people don’t.”
“Trust me, Troy doesn’t get much.” I shift closer. “How bad was it? The accident?”
“I’ve seen worse, but not by much.” His voice goes distant. “Kids were trapped in the back. Kept trying to get Mom to wake up, but she was unconscious…” He stops. “The fuel leak was getting worse. Could smell it. Battalion Chief kept yelling at me to wait, but those kids…”
“You saved them.”
“ We saved them. Rodriguez was right there. So was Medic 5, Medic 16, Engine 18, Engine 4. Hell, the staties were even directing traffic. It was a whole team effort.”
“The news made it sound like you were Captain America.”
He laughs softly. “Hardly. Just saw what needed doing and did it.”
“Jack.” I put my hand on his, gently. “C’mon. I saw you on TV. And I’ve seen a lot in the ER. You’re a hero.”
He shakes his head. “I’m not a hero, Sophia. Just a guy who—”
I lean in and kiss him. Can’t help it. He tastes like Thai food and exhaustion and something uniquely Jack. After a moment of surprise, he kisses me back, gentle despite everything.
When we break apart, we’re both breathing differently.
“That was—” he starts.
“Overdue,” I finish.
He grins. “Was going to say brilliant, but overdue works too.”
An alarm blares through the station. “Medic 402, Medic 402. Respond to cardiac arrest…”
Jack starts to move, but Rodriguez’s voice booms from the hallway. “McKENZIE! You were called in! So you’re technically off duty as of—” he checks his watch dramatically “—an hour ago. I’ve got Kollman. Go home, hero.”
“But—”
“That’s an order. You’ve done enough today.” Rodriguez appears in the doorway, already in his gear, grinning at us both. “Besides, I’m not cockblocking the charge nurse. The entire emergency department would murder me.”
He’s gone before either of us can respond. We hear him jogging down the hall, then the bay doors opening.
Jack and I stare at each other in the sudden silence.
“So,” he says softly. “I’m officially off duty.”
“And Madison’s at her friend Chloe’s for the night.” My voice sounds breathier than I intended.
“Your place?”
“My car’s outside.”
He stands, favoring his bruised shoulder. I grab the leftover Thai food, and we walk through the empty station. The energy between us has shifted—charged, inevitable.
In the parking lot, he catches my hand. “Sophia, are you sure? We can just—”
I turn, pressing him not-so-gently against my car. “Jack. I’ve been sure since you first said ‘ Kia ora ’ over the phone.”
His eyes darken. “That was months ago.”
“I know.” I kiss him again, deeper this time. When we break apart, we’re both breathing hard. “My place. Now .”