Page 11 of Asystole

“Here, eat this. It’ll make you feel better. Besides,” he adds as I bite into the fried goodness. “Stone doesn’t really seem to fit your vibe.”

“Since you’re clearly the expert, what is my vibe? And who fits it?”

“I’m going to say…” Chase looks around the dimly lit space, and I watch as his eyes land on… “The guy behind the bar.”

I eat another fried pickle, shaking my head.

“The tattoos make him an automatic no,” I say with a laugh.

“That’s a little hypocritical, don’t you think?” Chase asks with a pointed gaze toward my ink-covered arms. I’d pushed the sleeves of my hoodie up after my first beer, the flush from the alcohol heating my skin.

“Not really. I don’t need to see my own skin since I live in it, but I really like looking at others’ inkless bodies. It’s nothing against him; I just tend to prefer guys without tattoos.”

Chase shrugs.

“That’s fair, I guess.” I fool myself into thinking he’s going to change the subject, but instead, he doubles down on the hard questions. “So, how long have you had feelings for Stone?”

“Too long. How’s the whole doctor thing going?” I ask, hoping the deliberate subject change is enough for him to drop it.

Chase gives me a nod of understanding, but has to get a final word in.

“If you want help moving on, I’m a great wingman. I’m super good at making other dudes jealous, but I’m never competition. And residency is cool. I mean, it’s kicking my ass, but it’s supposed to, ya know?”

Chase’s phone goes off a minute later, vibrating loudly against the table in the quiet space. He looks at the name and ignores the call from someone named Sarah.

I arch a brow.

Chase gives me a sheepish grin.

“Colleague.”

“Hot colleague?” Logan asks with a smirk.

“Very,” I confirm, telling the truth. “But it’s not like that.”

“How often do you get laid?” I ask. I mean, it’s basically a pot-meet-kettle situation here, since I haven’t seen any action in quite a while myself, but at least I could if the mood struck.

Chase throws his head back in laughter like that was the funniest thing he’s ever heard in his life.

“I mean, not as often as I’d like, obviously, but my hands and the porn network keep me sane. I don’t usually have much time anyway, so it suits my schedule to just rub one out before bed and call it a day,” he says.

“Yeah, but don’t you miss pussy? I mean, back before I got totally fucked up over Stone, I’d crave dick every couple of days.”

Chase clinks his glass against mine with a wink.

“I’ll remember that next time my hand fails to get the job done.”

I snort in laughter. Chase definitely has a serious side, but he picks up on emotional details in a way not a lot of men do, and he can turn the mood of a conversation around with just one sentence. He’s easy to be around and has an intelligent sense of humor. His ability to get to the heart of a matter without making it feel too heavy is extremely unique.

By the time he finishes his second beer and we polish off the last crumbs of the appetizers we ordered, it’s nine-forty, and my cheeks hurt from smiling. It’s clear I haven’t used those muscles in quite a bit because I didn’t think I’d smiled all that much during this little outing, but I guess I was wrong.

Chase looks at his watch and groans.

“Oh man, I need to head out. This was definitely what I needed tonight, though. I’m glad we finally connected. Let’s do it again sometime. Everyone I normally talk to just wants to discuss medication interactions, liver dissections, or asystole.”

“Asis—what?”

Chase chuckles.