Page 102 of Asystole

“I see no need for this,” Chase says, pulling my shirt back off.

“So, you’d have me show up to Stone and Hanlon’s wedding weekend in nothing but my boxers?” I ask, settling my hands on Chase’s pecs. Seems fair since he’s touching me.

Chase stares at me, breathing heavily through his nostrils.

I’m about to ask him what’s wrong when he asks, “Can I kiss you?”

“You don’t have to ask, Chase. You can kiss me anytime you want to,” I inform him, dragging the knuckle of my index finger across his lips.

“Yeah?”

I nod. “Yeah.”

He leans into my space, and I welcome him eagerly.

That damn throaty growl of his makes the butterflies bypass my stomach and head straight for my fucking balls.

His hands reach behind me to cup my ass as I willingly grind against him.

Chase devours my mouth, making me believe he’s been starving for this as much as I have. There’s no hesitation, no second-guessing, no embarrassment about what he wants.

And it’s so fucking hot.

I roll my hips against him, practically climbing him as I claw at his shirt, needing to feel his skin against mine.

Chase chuckles.

“We need to hit the road,” he says.

“Then you shouldn’t have started this.”

As soon as his shirt lands on the floor next to mine, my fingers begin working the button on his jeans, ravenous for this man.

Chase doesn’t stop me, but I slow my movements anyway.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“You’re sure about this?” I hold up a hand before he can answer because I’m not done yet. “You just ended an eight-year relationship. Don’t you want time to⁠—”

“Date?” he asks, cutting me off. “‘Figure things out’?”

“I was going to say heal,” I tell him.

He chews on his bottom lip.

“This probably makes me the world’s biggest asshole, but I’m not heartbroken. If anything, I feel relieved. Like, maybe I’d put pressure on myself to be the perfect boyfriend, or I’d somehow come to believe that being in a stable relationship made me a better man and a better doctor. It completed the image, you know?”

I nod.

“You’re a good enough man and doctor on your own, Chase. You don’t need anyone to make you better, and you certainly don’t have to portray some image. You just have to be you.”

“I’m learning that. It’s hard to undo a lifetime of expectations, though.”

“One day at a time,” I tell him.

“It’s easier with you,” he admits, leaning down to kiss me again.

Understanding that he doesn’t want to talk anymore, I focus my attention on getting his pants down. Once I unzip his jeans, I hook my fingers in the waistband of both his jeans and his boxers and begin to push them down slowly.