Page 33 of Asystole

“Yeah, I have a guest room, but the bed in there is only a queen. You can take my room, though.”

“I’m not kicking you out of your room,” I argue.

“Okay, fine,” he says quickly. “Take the small bed, the couch, sleep on the floor for all I care, but can we just get the fuck out of here before my sense of smell is permanently damaged?”

I think it over, but it doesn’t take me long to agree and start packing my shit.

Logan clearly doesn’t want to be alone, and I don’t have the energy to fuck with Jackson’s bullshit tonight.

Five minutes later, I’m ready to roll with my duffel bag and everything I could possibly need for the next couple of days. No fucking way am I coming back until Jackson gets this shit under control and scrubs this place from top to bottom.

Chapter 13

Logan

“Ohmygod, yes,” Chase moans as I drop my keys on the counter and shed my jacket. “It smells so fucking good in here.” He crosses to my kitchen and opens the trash can lid, peering inside. I’m about to ask him what the hell he’s doing, but he inhales deeply and turns to me. “You use those trash bags with Febreze in them, don’t you?”

I nod with a smile.

Apparently, it’s the simple things for Chase.

“I fucking love you,” he teases, letting the trash can lid drop closed.

“Come on, I’ll show you where you can put your stuff.”

I lead him through my small condo, turning the lights on as I go.

“Don’t you own a single lamp?” he asks.

“Um, no? Why would I spend money on lamps when the condo has lights in the ceiling?”

“It’s about vibe, man. What happens when you bring a date back here and he gets so turned off by the overhead lights that you never even make it to first base?”

“After the way tonight went, I don’t think I have to worry about that,” I admit, turning the corner into the guest room and flipping on another overhead light to reveal a queen-sized bed with a blue plaid comforter, a nightstand, and a small chest of drawers.

Just like everything else, none of it matches. I’m not even sure why I have a guest room. I never have guests. It just seemed like the most adult use of this space since I don’t need an office, but I’m suddenly grateful I have it. This whole move was supposed to be about making a change, which I had secretly hoped would include permanence and possibly a partner.

I’m tired of running, but old habits are hard to break.

When I bought this condo, I thought it would help me settle down, finally buy matching furniture, paint a wall or two. But I just can’t seem to find the motivation.

Chase quirks a brow at me.

“I thought gay guys were supposed to have good style.”

“That’s like saying every straight guy can find a clit,” I fire back.

“Hmm, valid point,” he agrees before adding, “But for the record, I know where it is.”

“Feel free not to share with the class,” I tease.

Chase drops his bag on the floor and says, “Do you mind if I grab a shower? I’m more than ready to be out of these scrubs.”

“Oh, yeah, sure. The guest bathroom is right next door. Help yourself. There should be towels under the sink,” I tell him as a smirk crosses his face. “What?” I ask.

“You’re so adulty.”

“Adulty?”