9. Logan
Logan
This was a mistake.
Although, to be fair, I didn’t expect Chase to end up half naked on my living room floor.
I wasn’t lying when I said he’s not my type, but his inkless skin and broad shoulders suggest maybe he’s more my type than I thought.
Chase releases my fingers, and to my absolute horror, they remain glued to his skin.
He wags his eyebrows at me.
“Not your type, huh?” the perceptive bastard says with a smug smile.
“Shut it,” I grumble, pulling my fingers back, making him laugh.
“Okay, back to business,” he says. “I want you to do a couple rounds of thirty compressions and two breaths just so you get a feel for it. It’s one thing to say it, but it’s a whole different beast when you have to actually do it.
It’s more exhausting than you think… only, don’t really hammer away on my chest. I’m partial to my ribs and sternum,” he says seriously.
“Bend your elbows to absorb the blow. For the breaths, tilt my head back and pinch my nose, but obviously don’t blow into my mouth, or you could cause air to leak into my chest cavity.
” When I don’t move, he taps my thigh. “Come on, Logan. I don’t have all night.
Lace your fingers together with the palm of one hand on the back of the other and place the heel of your bottom hand right here,” he says, practically pulling me on top of him.
Get your head in the game, Logan, I chastise myself before finally doing as Chase instructs. I’m working hard to focus on the mechanics of the movements and not on the mountain of muscle beneath me as I pretend to give thirty rapid chest compressions.
“Count out loud,” Chase says. “It lets others know where you are in the cycle in case they need to take over for any reason.”
“It’s just us,” I point out.
“But the whole point is to practice exactly what you’d do in the real world, isn’t it?” he argues.
“Twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty,” I say dutifully, pumping my arms against his chest.
“Good. Now, use your right hand to pinch my nose shut, and use your left hand to tilt my head back. That will open my airway and make the breaths more effective.”
I do as I’m instructed and huff the breaths into the space above his face.
“Slow them down just a little. They should each take a full second.”
“Why did you have to be shirtless for this?” I ask, giving away the fact that I’m distracted as hell.
“Because I’m not responding to your shitty skills, and someone just brought you an AED that you have to hook up to me,” he says with a shit-eating grin.
“I regret asking for your help,” I deadpan.
“Oh, come on. You’re doing great. Now where do the pads go?” he asks. He’s being totally professional, but I swear he’s enjoying this far too much.
“On your chest,” I say stupidly.
“Show me,” he commands.
I point to his very large, very well-defined pec.
“And the other?” he asks.
Shit. Where does the other pad go?
“Your back?”
Chase makes a sound like a buzzer.
“Brrrr. Wrong.”
I roll my eyes.
“The pads have fucking pictures. If I had the pads, I’d know,” I argue, getting mad at myself for being so flustered around him.
Seriously, I couldn’t get hard when Jack had my dick in his mouth, but Chase lying shirtless on my floor has my dick interested for the first time in forever?
Fuck. My. Life.
Chase props himself up on his elbows and levels me with a glare.
“What if the unit’s old and the pictures have rubbed off? What if there’s a pacemaker? What if you can’t access the right pec because there’s too much water or blood?”
“Jesus, man, I don’t know.”
“That’s why we’re starting with the basics. Now show me where the fucking pads go.”
Damn. It’s kind of hot seeing him get a little riled up.
“Here, and here?” I ask, pointing to his right pec and his right side.
“Here,” he says, grabbing my hand and pinning it to his right pec. “And here,” he adds, slapping my other hand against the left side of his ribcage.
“Okay, okay. I’ve got it,” I say, trying to remove my hands before I do something stupid like dig my fingertips into his warm flesh or accidentally get hard from the contact.
“Do you?” he asks, letting go of my hands, allowing me to sit back on my heels.
I nod.
“Then show me.”
“I just did. Or were you not present for the gropefest?” I snark. But as soon as the words leave my mouth, I wish I could take them back. I didn’t mean to conjure up any negative memories for him and that dickwad, Cameron.
“If that was how you grope, it’s no wonder you’re single,” he fires back with that easy smile of his.
My eyes widen in surprise.
I never have any idea of what’s going to come out of his mouth, but relief floods my veins that nothing about this situation seems to remind him of the other one. Thank God.
“Show me where the pads go,” he repeats.
I cup my hands as if they were the pads he’s talking about and place one on his right pec and one on his left side.
Fuck.
His skin is warm and smooth, and now I’m noticing the trail of hair from his belly button down to the waistband of his jeans. Ohmygod, it’s the same deep red as the hair on his head. I mean, of course it is, but I’ve never seen a redhead, and now I’m insanely curious.
As though he’s able to read my mind, Chase flashes me a cocky grin.
“Yes, the carpet matches the drapes,” he says smugly.
“What!?”
“The hair at the base of my dick…it matches the hair on my head. That’s what you were wondering, right?”
I scrub a hand down my face, but that was the wrong thing to do because it smells like his skin. Suddenly, my tiny condo feels even smaller than normal.
“Fuck, Chase. I’m sorry. You’re giving up time to help me, and here I am, being weird as hell. I just can’t seem to get my shit together today.”
Chase sits all the way up now, planting his feet flat on the floor and draping his forearms across his knees.
“It’s all good, Logan. I’m just messing with you. Hell, if you got hard for me, I’d take it as a compliment. I used to try to get a rise out of Hanlon, if you know what I mean, but it never worked.”
My mouth falls open.
“You used to try making Hanlon hard? That’s kind of fucked up,” I say, scooting back to create some much-needed space between our bodies.
“No! Well, I mean, yes. But not to be an asshole. When Hanlon came out to me, I was hellbent on making sure he never felt like he had to hide anything from me and could be himself. I needed him to know I wasn’t weirded out or anything, so I’d hug him all the time.
It really got to me when he had his first serious boyfriend.
I hated the guy because he took Han’s time and attention away from me.
Then I hated him because I didn’t think he was good enough for my Hanny, since the guy was arrogant as fuck.
So, I started being overly affectionate toward Hanlon whenever he was around, but somewhere along the way I realized I’m a physical touch kind of guy.
I asked Hanlon if he wanted me to stop, but he said he didn’t mind since he saw me as a brother and not anything more. ”
I scoff.
“Yeah, well, considering the things he does with his actual brother, maybe he was more into you than you think.”
Suddenly, Chase’s good-natured attitude is gone.
“Hey. They aren’t related by blood. I get that you’re pissed because Hanlon ended up with Stone, but he’s still my best friend, and you can’t talk shit about him. Not to me.”
I sigh.
“You’re right. I’m sorry,” I concede, admiring Chase’s loyalty.
“And my bad if I was too forward,” Chase apologizes. “I didn’t have any boundaries with Hanlon, and it’s been a while since I was around someone who reminds me of that easy friendship.”
There’s a tone of sadness in Chase’s voice that I feel in my stomach. I wasn’t the only one who lost someone they loved when Stone and Hanlon got together, and while it’s not exactly the same, it’s not all that different either.
“A gay guy, you mean,” I clarify with a crooked smile, trying to lighten the mood. Chase laughs, and it’s amazing how much easier I breathe at the sound.
“Someone who pulls me out of my head and just allows me to enjoy the moment without expectations,” Chase corrects.
“You still talk to him, right?” I ask.
“Yeah, of course, but now that he has Stone and we live across the country from each other, it’s not all that often.”
I think back to the days when I saw Stone all day, every day.
“I can see how the physical distance would create other kinds of distance, too.”
“Yep. Distance is hell on relationships,” Chase says cryptically, grabbing his shirt and slipping his arms into the sleeves as he buttons it up with a yawn. “Well, enough of this pity party. Let’s finish the CPR lesson later. I could use a beer before I go.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to say I could use a blowjob, but considering the tension that’s still lingering in the air, I swallow the words.