Finding You: The Complete Box Set (a contemporary MM romance series)

by Ana Ashley

  “Alex! Any news? How is Joana?” I asked with urgency.

  “Isaac,” Alex’s voice quavered with emotion “I’m a dad, Isaac, I’m a dad! She’s so tiny and perfect. God, you should have seen Joana. She was amazing.” Alex carried on talking. He sounded so happy like his family was finally complete. Struggling to contain my own emotions, I leaned against the wall and let myself slide down to the floor. I was an uncle now, and our small family of three had just increased by one. I was close to believing in Christmas miracles, and I didn’t even like Christmas.

  “Alex, I’m so proud of you little brother. You’re going to be a great dad. I can’t wait to meet my niece. I wish I were there,”

  Sofia wasn’t due to arrive until the New Year, so I knew taking this trip had been a gamble. It was also an opportunity I couldn’t have missed. “Send me some pictures when you can, okay? I’ll be home in a few days.”

  We said our goodbyes, and I got up from the floor, wiping the tears that had run down my face. I put the phone back in my pocket thinking that it would be nice if I had enough time to do some additional Christmas shopping before I left.

  It was only then that I looked properly at my surroundings. The room wasn’t big, it could accommodate maybe twenty people, but what caught my eye was the artwork on the walls. There were a few colorful paintings and pencil drawings, some of buildings and some of people on the streets. I needed to get back to the conference, but I made a mental note to ask Jean-Paul about them.

  The lights went out as soon as I walked toward the door. “What the—” I blurted, even though I knew no one could hear me. I hadn’t stopped that far from the door, so it took me only a few steps to locate the handle. I turned it, but it was stuck. I pulled on the door a few times, but it didn’t budge.

  Shit. What the hell do I do now? Hoping that someone would check the rooms after the conference finished, I resigned myself to wait. The room wasn’t completely dark. There was light from the hall coming in from under the door and also through windows that ran down the side of the building.

  Unfortunately, they were too high for me to reach, and since I was on the third floor, I wasn’t taking chances at trying to jump out, even if I could reach them.

  I wasn’t sure how long I’d stayed in there until I detected the faint smell of burning and saw smoke coming from under the door. I moved away from it once I began to see more and more smoke seeping in. I was stuck. The only way out was where the smoke was coming from, and no one knew I was in here. I went down on the floor, using the small amount of light to help me make my way toward the back of the room, trying to stay as low down as I could.

  I heard the smoke alarm going off. It was so loud I couldn’t hear if there was anyone outside. The smoke was getting thicker and pouring in faster. I knew that I needed to make my presence known before it was too late. The smoke burned in my throat, making it hard to breathe.

  My natural reaction was to cough, but then it was hard to take in any clean air. My eyes were watering from the smoke, and I knew that soon, I wouldn’t be able to see at all.

  I took off my shirt and used it to cover my mouth and nose. Hopefully, it would help keep the smoke inhalation to a minimum. I walked to the door and started banging on it and tried my best to shout through the shirt. Although the smell and smoke were both indications of a fire somewhere in the building, I couldn’t feel any heat coming from the door or raising the temperature inside the room. My lungs, however, felt like they were on fire. I was struggling to breathe, and my arm was getting tired from banging over and over on the door.

  I sat back on the floor near the rooms only exit, and as my breaths became harder and harder to come by, I felt myself slip into unconsciousness.

  2

  Max

  I was in the middle of my speech when the fire alarm went off. I was familiar with the building since I volunteered here on a regular basis, so from my position on stage, I pointed out where everybody should go, asking them to remain calm. I couldn’t see any signs of a real fire, so I wondered if it had just been the kids accidentally setting off the fire alarm.

  It wasn’t unknown for them to burn toast because they were too distracted playing video games and set off the alarm in the process. The supervisors would normally disable it immediately, so the fact the alarm was still going had me concerned that this was more than simple burnt toast.

  Dorian and Jean-Paul grabbed the emergency packs from near the stage, put on the high-vis vests, and started directing some of the people who were still milling about in panic out toward the emergency exit, which was on the other side of the stage and opposite the entrance door.

  People exited swiftly, and it wouldn’t be long until everybody in the room was out safely. I called out to Dorian to ask if someone was checking the rest of the building. He said the volunteers with the kids would make sure everyone was out safely.

  The overnight shelter was in a separate part of the building, which meant anyone there would evacuate via the back emergency exits. So no one would be checking the other rooms on this side because everybody was expected to be inside this conference room.

  “Max, where are you going?” Jean-Paul shouted over the piercing alarm, grabbing my arm as I made my way to the conference room door.

  “I’m just checking something. I’ll be right back. You go out with Dorian,” I shouted back. Jean-Paul tried to protest, but I shook my head and gave him a look that meant I wasn’t going to negotiate on this.

  Earlier when I’d walked on stage, I saw a man step out of the room. His back was hunched forward as he left, as though he was worried about something. I didn’t remember seeing anyone come back in, and as the alarm started during my speech, I was pretty sure the man was still out there.

  As soon as I left the conference room, I was immediately assaulted by a wall of smoke. I couldn’t see any flames or feel the heat from the fire, but visibility was very poor. I knew I wouldn’t have much time to find the man before I had to leave and get myself to safety.

  The corridor was empty, and with everybody out of the building, there was an eerie silence. I pulled the sleeve of my jacket over my mouth and moved toward the other rooms on this floor.

  “Hello!” I shouted through my sleeve. “Is anyone there? Hello!”

  There was no reply, and each door I tried was locked. Where the hell is he?

  Then I thought I heard a knock. And another one. It was getting very faint, so I listened and walked toward the sound. I found the door where it was coming from and tried to open it. This was the art room, the only room that was normally unlocked on this floor.

  Nothing happened as I moved the door handle up and down. Fuck, it’s stuck!

  “If you’re in there, please get away from the door!” I shouted, hoping he could hear me if he was inside.

  I kicked the door open and went in. It was difficult to see through the smoke, but fortunately, the man was on the floor by the door but was now unconscious.

  I managed to lift him up and over my shoulders in a fireman’s lift and carried him out of the building. When we got outside, I gently placed him down on the ground and shouted for someone to call a cab. We weren’t too far from the hospital, and a cab would be quicker than an ambulance.

  I was kneeling on the ground with the man sitting up against me when he started coughing. He had a mop of curly brown hair with streaks of blond, almost like they had been sun-bleached. I brushed the hair aside, finding it much softer than I expected. His eyes were still closed, and he was struggling to breathe.

  “That’s it, breathe in slowly,” I instructed calmly, still holding him close. It was only then that I realized the man wasn’t wearing a shirt.

  “Dorian, have you got a foil blanket in your pack?” I called out to Dorian, who came rushing with the emergency bag.

  “Oh my god, Isaac!” Dorian was suddenly very pale. “Max, you have to help him. Please!”

  I looked back toward the man, hoping he would open his eyes so I co
uld assess him. “Isaac? Is that your name?” He nodded in between ragged breaths. “Isaac, I’m Max. I’m a nurse. I’m going to take you to a local hospital so you can get checked, okay? You’re going to be fine, just take slow, deep breaths for me.”

  Isaac nodded again in understanding.

  He seemed to steady his breathing and was taking deeper inhalations by the time the cab pulled up. I helped him to stand, and it was only then that he opened his eyes to look at me, and I felt a shiver run down my spine.

  I had noticed he was a good-looking man. With round, soft features combined with the curly hair, he looked like a fucking angel. But with his eyes, a glassy blue-green color looking back at me in pleading, I would have granted any wish possible.

  “St…stay…please…” he pleaded as he started coughing again.

  “Don’t strain your voice, Isaac, I’m coming with you,” I reassured as we got in the taxi and sped toward the hospital.

  We went into the emergency room and one of the nurses on call, Shelly, greeted us. She was a good one, experienced and fast on her feet. I quickly relayed what happened, and she helped me take Isaac first to triage and then into an exam room for observation and diagnostics.

  It was hard to stay silent when looking after people at the hospital was second nature, but I knew it would be unprofessional to step in. Instead, I stood in a corner of the room, watching over Isaac as Shelly settled him on the bed and started asking him the questions I so desperately wanted to ask.

  “Hello, Isaac,” Shelly said while checking his blood pressure. “I’m Shelly, and I’m going to be your nurse tonight. I work with Max here,” she said looking up at me. “But you’ll find I’m the better nurse, so I promise you’re in good hands,” she teased, but it got a small smile out of Isaac.

  “Do you feel dizzy or have a headache?” Shelly asked, and Isaac shook his head.

  “Does your chest hurt when you breathe?”

  Isaac nodded at that question.

  “You’re doing great,” she reassured. “I don’t think there’s anything to worry about, but I’m going to recommend a couple of tests to the doctor just to make sure there’s no injury to your lungs, okay? Then I’ll connect you to some oxygen to help your breathing and make sure your O2 levels stay up. I’m going to speak to Dr. Adrian and will be right back.”

  Isaac nodded once again. I pulled a chair closer to the bed and sat down and looked at the clock on the wall. It was almost nine o’clock, only four hours since I’d left the hospital to attend the conference, but it felt like a lifetime ago.

  “I work here at this hospital, Isaac. I promise you’re in good hands.” I tried to reassure him, and he gave me a small, tired smile in return.

  Dr. Adrian came in shortly after the nurse left, did a thorough assessment, and fortunately, agreed with Shelly. He put the orders in at the bedside computer for the required testing, treatment, and blood draws.

  “Isaac, I’m confident there’s nothing to worry about and that you’ll be discharged as soon as the results come back,” Dr. Adrian said. “I’ll leave you in the capable hands of my nurses and wish you a speedy recovery.”

  Isaac nodded his understanding before Dr. Adrian left to see his next patient.

  A few minutes later, Shelly came back with a respiratory therapist who was going to draw an arterial blood gas to test for CO levels, which would then be followed by a pulmonary function test (PFT). Isaac was very patient despite his clear discomfort from the needle stick and the struggle to breathe, particularly after the PFT.

  When she was done, Shelly put Isaac back on the oxygen, reattached the cables to the electrodes for the heart monitor, and left us.

  Possibly due to a combination of exhaustion and the crash from the adrenaline, Isaac fell asleep within a few minutes. He looked fine, and his vital signs were stable. Knowing he was now safe and under observation, I relaxed a bit and looked at him properly for the first time.

  Isaac was almost as tall as me, but he was slimmer, toned, and tanned. I had seen that much earlier, even if ever so briefly. I scanned over his soft features again, remembering how his eyes completely transformed his face giving it depth and contrast.

  What would he look like when he laughed out loud, when he was angry or frustrated, when he was in bed losing himself in someone? Shit, I couldn’t allow my thoughts to go in that direction. This man was in the hospital for god’s sake.

  I couldn’t tell what it was, but despite barely exchanging a word with the man, I could feel a strange pull toward him. It was something I’d never felt so quickly before, and it left me confused.

  Needing some distance, I decided to call Dorian to check up on things at the center.

  I left the room in the direction of the nurse’s station, heading into the break room and over to my locker, and dialed Dorian’s number.

  “Hey Dorian, how are things at the center?” I asked when he picked up.

  “Shit man, I don’t know. Everybody was evacuated, and the fire was put out. It looks like it’s only affected one floor on the office side. The firemen are still working on it.”

  “How are the kids? Did everybody make it out okay?”

  “Yeah, they’re all safe, and Jean-Paul is talking to another shelter to see if we can get the kids a roof for the night. How’s Isaac? Please tell me he’s okay, Max.” Dorian sounded as though the weight of the world was on his shoulders, which tonight, it was. With twenty-five teenagers on the street and an unknown bill to fix the shelter, both Dorian and Jean-Paul would be quite busy this Christmas.

  “Isaac is fine. We’re running some tests just to rule out any damage to his lungs, but he’s on oxygen and resting for the moment.”

  I heard Dorian’s long sigh on the other side of the line.

  “Dorian, I’m going to stay here with him until he’s discharged.” He sounded so overwhelmed; I could take this worry off of him.

  “Thanks, Max, you’re a good friend.” Dorian sounded relieved as he explained that Isaac was staying at a hotel in the Village and would be leaving the day after tomorrow.

  I grabbed a shirt and a sweater from my locker and walked back to the room where the man that had me transfixed without barely saying a word was lying in bed, still asleep. I put the clothes on a spare chair and walked back out to find Shelly and check when we could see the results from the tests.

  3

  Isaac

  The smoke was everywhere. I couldn’t see anything, and my lungs burned from the smoke. Was this it? Was I going to die? No one even knew I was in this room. What if they were trying to find me but it was too late?

  My chest felt so tight. Oh God! Oh God!

  I jolted awake. My brain was foggy as I struggled to get my bearings. My face was covered with an oxygen mask. What the fuck happened?

  Maybe I had a bad dream, except it didn’t feel like a dream, and that wouldn’t explain the mask and why it looked like I was in a hospital.

  As I closed my eyes again and tried to focus, the memories came to me in a slow sequence. I’d been at the conference, and then called Alex. He had good news. Sofia was born and was healthy.

  The room door wouldn’t open, and then there was all the smoke—lots of smoke. That thought made me suck in a deep breath as though I needed to reassure myself that my lungs were still working.

  Still with my eyes closed, I tried to remember anything after that, but nothing was coming. There was a faint memory of a voice, soft and silky like honey but deep and so reassuring it had made me feel oddly safe.

  I took another deep breath and opened my eyes. Maybe I could call a nurse and find out how I got here.

  As I looked to my left, I was surprised to find that I wasn’t alone. Sitting back on the chair next to my bed, asleep, was a blond-haired, broad-shouldered guy wearing the ugliest Christmas sweater I’d ever seen.

  It was red, and on the front, it had a snowman wearing a Christmas tree as a hat. That in itself wasn’t too unfitting, after all, it was Christmas. What
made it truly hideous were the dozens of pom-poms in various sizes and colors that were dotted randomly all around. Some of them had small decorations hanging from them.

  I wanted to laugh, but my throat felt dry, as if someone had tried to tear it away from my body. I tried to speak, but the result was a dry cough that threatened to bring up the contents of my now empty stomach. The man jerked awake at the sound.

  “Isaac! Are you okay?” he asked, getting up so quickly, the chair dragged behind him.

  Dark brown eyes that were a contrast to his light blond hair looked at me with concern. He glanced up at the screens I was attached to and then pressed the button to call for a nurse.

  Jesus Christ, the man was gorgeous. Suddenly, I felt very underdressed in my hospital gown. I probably looked like death warmed over, while this man looked like a walking advert for Healthy Living magazine.

  “Wat…achh…wat…” I struggled to speak with my dry throat, but it seemed the man understood what I was asking for.

  “Don't strain your voice. I just called the nurse. Once they check you, you can have some water.” He reassured me.

  “Do you remember what happened? How are you feeling?”

  Unable to speak, I lifted my hand up with my palm facing down, shaking it to make the universal sign for ‘so-so.’

  “I'm Max,” he said. “I was at the conference. I saw you leave the room, so I went looking for you when the alarm went off.”

  The voice, it was him. I remembered now, sitting on the pavement outside the center and Max coming with me to the hospital.

  “Do…Dor…” I attempted unsuccessfully to ask about my friend.

  “Dorian? He knows you’re safe and well. I called him earlier.”

  The nurse, Shelly, came in to check on me and allowed me to drink some water, which made me feel a million times better.