Page 34 of Asystole

“Yeah. You have a guest room—even if it’s questionably furnished. You live by yourself. Manage your own shit.”

“That’s because I’m thirty-four years old,” I remind him, glad that my ruse of faking it until I make it is working on him.

“I mean, I’m twenty-six. As is Jackson, which is plenty old enough to know better, and he’s a mess, and I still rely on Mommy and Daddy’s money,” Chase says in a tone that makes me think he’s somehow disappointed in himself.

“You’ve chosen one of the hardest career paths in the world, Chase. Give yourself some credit. Besides, at least you know how to change a trash bag, and just because I bought a condo doesn’t mean I’m good at being an adult,” I point out, nudging him into the bathroom. “Go take your shower. I know you’re dying to crawl into bed.”

Chase follows my instructions without arguing and closes the door.

I’m about to walk away once I hear the shower start, but the robotic ringtone of a video call catches my attention.

“Jesus, dude. Don’t you ever have clothes on? You can answer the call once you’ve found pants, you know.” Hanlon’s deep voice causes my shoulders to tense.

“You’re the one who always insists on a video chat instead of a normal phone call, Hanny Bananny,” Chase says with a laugh, his exhaustion seeming to have melted away at the call from his best friend.

“Well, excuse me for wanting to see my best friend’s face. Where are you?” Hanlon asks in a confused tone, obviously not recognizing my bathroom.

“Um, I’m actually at Logan’s.”

A pause, and then a voice I’ll always recognize fills the air.

“Logan? Like Logan Kirkland?” Stone chimes in.

“That’s the one,” Chase confirms.

“How the hell is he?” Stone asks. “I tried calling him a while back, but he didn’t answer.” Stone pauses and then says, “Or call me back.”

“Yeah, I passed the news along. There’s probably no need to reach out again,” Chase replies, obviously trying to save me from more heartache.

My back hits the wall, and I slide down until my ass is on the floor. Some part of me knows I shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but a bigger part of me doesn’t care. I want to hurt. I’ve wanted to hear Stone’s voice so badly, my chest aches for it.

“Well, I just wanted to call and tell you Merry Christmas,” Hanlon says.

Chase laughs.

“Christmas isn’t until next week, Han.”

“I knoooow. But I wanted to say it twice.”

“In other words, you’re drunk and feeling sentimental,” Chase teases lightheartedly.

“Maybe a little,” Hanlon agrees.

“Okay, well, Merry Christmas. Go celebrate with your fiancé. I’m just about to hop in the shower.”

“With Logan?!” Hanlon screeches.

“No, Hanny,” Chase confirms, but after a brief pause, he adds, “But he is pretty hot. Especially in that flight suit. Might have to consider my options.”

Hanlon and Stone yell Chase’s name in mock horror at the same time, but I hear Chase laugh, and the clink of his phone hitting the counter tells me he hung up on them.

The sound of him pulling back the shower curtain reminds me of his proximity and eases some of the pain caused by hearing Stone say my name.

I’m not alone tonight.

I manage to peel myself off the floor just as Chase finishes his shower, but that and changing into sweats and a T-shirt are the only things I accomplish in the fifteen minutes he was in there. I’m now on the couch, scrolling through my streaming service, not really seeing anything, when a giant frame turns the corner into the living room.

In nothing but a towel.