Page 133 of Asystole

Before he can reply, there’s a knock on our door.

“What was that about having time?” Logan says with a grin, sliding under the sheets still covered in cum as I slip into a resort robe and pull the door open.

“Room service,” the man says.

My cheeks flush because it smells like sex in here, but he just nods at Logan before turning back to me.

“Would you like me to set you up in here or on the balcony?”

“Balcony, please,” Logan and I answer at the same time.

While the man is occupied on the balcony, Logan discreetly steps into the bathroom and grabs a quick shower while I finally look at my phone.

I have fourteen text messages and nine missed calls.

I open Hanlon’s text thread first.

Hanlon

You’re on the news.

In Aruba.

YOU ALMOST DIED?

CALL ME BACK, YOU FUCKER.

Chase, I swear to God, I will fly down there and kick your life-saving ass if you don’t call me the fuck back.

Laughing, I call Hanlon back before moving on to the next message.

“What the hell is going on down there?” Hanlon asks instead of saying hello.

“Well, Logan and I are just about to sit down to breakfast after a couple of intense orgasms,” I tell him calmly.

“CHASE!” Hanlon yells, making me laugh.

“Relax, Hanny. We’re fine, thanks to Logan’s piloting skills. He was fucking incredible.”

“Did that guy really just keel over?” Hanlon asks, wanting the gory details. I can’t blame him. When it’s someone you don’t know, death has a morbid tendency to be fascinating.

“He did,” I confirm, before pausing long enough for my brain to finally catch up.

“Wait, Hanlon, are you telling me our interview made the news in the U.S.?” I ask, dread filling my stomach.

“Yes, that is what I’m telling you. Now, walk me through it.”

“Oh, shit. Hanny, I need to call you back.”

“What’s wrong?” Logan says, emerging from the bathroom with a towel wrapped low around his waist.

God, his lines make my mouth water.

Focus!

If that stupid interview aired in the U.S., there’s a chance Dr. Porter or one of the other attendings—or worse, the program director—has seen it.

Jesus, why did I have to run my mouth?