Page 115 of Asystole

“Did you?” I fire, expelling the last of my resentment.

“No, but I’m an idiot. Chase isn’t,” Stone admits, softening my heart toward him a little.

“Good of you to notice.” I smirk as I grab two champagne flutes from a waitress bustling about the room with a tray, reminding me of Dr. Porter’s New Year’s Eve party—at least this time I don’t cringe at the memory. Bubbles aren’t what I prefer, but they’ll do in a pinch.

Stone bumps his shoulder against mine as he takes the offering.

“You gonna hold a grudge forever?”

“Maybe,” I tease, barely holding onto a serious tone.

“For what it’s worth, Loag, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t even like myself back then. It would have been impossible for me to be what you needed. Hanlon was the only one who could fix me because he’s the one I broke. I needed his pieces in order to repair mine, but I’m sorry I hurt you while I figured that out.”

That was the most honest, heartfelt apology I’ve ever heard. It’s because of that I tell him the truth.

“It’s water under the bridge, Stone. Chase and I are together.”

Stone damn near snaps his neck with how fast his head whips back in my direction.

“What do you mean ‘together’?”

“I mean, we’re a tandem dance team. What do you think I mean?”

Stone scrubs a hand down his face.

“I knew there was no way that fucker was straight. Christ, he’s touched my husband’s dick. I’m gonna have to kill him.”

“I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t.”

After throwing his champagne back in one gulp, he says, “That shit’s gross. Let’s go find beer or whiskey. I can’t watch your man grind on mine any longer without going ape shit.”

I laugh.

“Wow. You really have grown as a person. Ape shit used to be your default.”

“Don’t remind me,” Stone says with a small smile, shaking his head.

We find a place to sit, but it’s not long before the rest of the guys from Ricochet find us and join in.

“So, what’s flying for the hospital like?” Deacon asks, catching me off guard. I hadn’t expected him to remember that’s where I went.

“Usually boring as hell, but every now and then there’s some atrocious weather or a patient that’s really critical that makes it interesting,” I say, giving a version of the truth, but not all of it.

I leave out the tiny detail that I technically don’t fly for the hospital anymore, figuring I should tell my boyfriend this news before relaying it to anyone else, but Deacon’s eyes narrow ever-so-slightly like he knows I’m leaving something out.

“Glad to see you haven’t run my chopper into the side of a mountain yet,” I tease Deacon, deflecting the attention back onto him. He’s a reasonable pilot and has probably gotten better over the last four years, but he’ll never be me.

“Not for lack of trying,” Stone mutters, making me laugh.

We fall into comfortable conversation, my eyes wandering to Chase every few seconds, and after half an hour on the dance floor, Hanlon and Chase are in various states of undress after working up a sweat.

When Hanlon takes his tie off and wraps it around Chase’s neck, pulling him close, Stone pushes his chair back and stands, looking at me.

“I’m going to get my husband before they start sucking each other off. You coming?”

“I have a better idea,” I say, joining him. He quirks a brow as I drape my tie around his neck. “I think you owe me a dance.”

Stone lets out an honest-to-God laugh, and as much as it morphs his features into a thing of beauty, it doesn’t make me want him.