Page 60 of Asystole

Logan turns his face toward me, his eyes dipping to my lips in the darkness.

“Yeah, that probably counts too,” he whispers.

My heart feels like it’s going to beat right out of my fucking chest.

How drunk am I?

When we hear the countdown begin inside, it feels like they’re counting down to something much bigger.

“You gonna kiss me at midnight?” I ask, unable to tell if I’m joking.

Logan must think I’m not, because he gives me a serious answer.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Chase,” he says, looking straight ahead again.

“It’s bad luck, you know,” I tease, feeling empty, but moving closer. I wish I knew what it was about Logan that draws me into his orbit.

“I can’t,” he says so quietly I’m pretty sure I’m not meant to hear it.

I don’t ask again. I don’t even know why I was pressing the issue in the first place, but damn, this is not how I wanted to start the new year.

Three…two…one…Happy New Ye⁠—

“Fuck it. Yes, I can,” Logan says right before he grabs me by the back of my neck, pulls me toward him, and slants his mouth against mine.

Chapter 23

Logan

Holy shit.

Chase Matthews can kiss.

I swear I was going to indulge just enough to take the edge off and maybe try to send him into a bit of a panic so he stops unintentionally torturing me. Just because Chase is straight and we have no future together doesn’t mean I wouldn’t fuck him. The more time I spend around him, the more certain my dick thinks we’d like that very much.

Somehow, Chase is able to force Stone to the back of my mind. He’s the only person I’ve met since knowing Stone who can boast that achievement.

Which, I’ve come to realize, is a big part of the reason I get so fucking horny around Chase. He creates enough margin for me to feel again.

When I part my lips, I expect him to retreat. Instead, he feeds me his tongue, taking over the kiss in a way I wasn’t expecting. Chase’s hand comes up to grip my jaw, holding it firmly in place as he demands that I match him lick for lick.

Some part of my brain is telling me I shouldn’t give in this easily.

Or at all.

But that part is buried beneath the lust coursing through my veins. Chase has unleashed a beast in me that’s been dormant for a while, and now the bastard wants to stretch its legs, eat its fill, and taste, and taste, and taste.

Round and round we go; our panting breaths being inhaled by the other. Our tongues dancing in a ritual, like we’re about to be sent to war, and this is the last time we’ll ever kiss or be kissed. Chase’s hand slides from my jaw to my throat while my hand grips his thigh. Part of me is asking for permission to move higher; part of me just needs to hold on to something so I don’t float away.

It’s only when we hear the creaking hinges of the door opening behind us that we jump apart.

“There you are!” Sarah says, severing my last nerve as she moves to stand behind Chase. “It’s after midnight. You missed the countdown.”

“I didn’t miss it,” Chase answers with a shake of his head before craning his neck to look up at her. “Is everyone heading out?” he asks before she can question what we’re doing out here.

“Yeah. We’ve all tried to help clean up, but Dr. Porter insisted the hired server would take care of it.”

“We’ll be right in,” Chase says, clearly dismissing Sarah, but she doesn’t take the hint.