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

by Ana Ashley

  “We have the results of your tests, Isaac. Your O2 levels are a little low, so you might experience mild headaches, but if you do, you can take a low dosage painkiller.

  “The pulmonary function tests have also come back normal. We didn’t do any chest x-rays because damage doesn’t normally show on the radiography until a number of hours after inhalation, but if you find you’re significantly out of breath over the next twenty-four hours, please come back to the hospital.”

  I nodded in understanding and relief. I already felt better and my head only hurt a little bit.

  “You might have difficulty speaking at first, but that should improve in the next few hours, too. Make sure to keep hydrated.”

  I drank some more water, took the painkillers she handed me, and waited for the discharge paperwork to be completed.

  “I have some clothes you can borrow,” Max declared. I must have looked puzzled because Max pointed at a couple of items on the chair. “These are just some spares I had in my locker. I think they’re too big for you, but they’ll do until we get you to your hotel.”

  When I was finally allowed to go, I looked at my mobile phone. It was just after midnight.

  I hadn’t been in the hospital long, but I felt so exhausted. I couldn’t wait to get back to the hotel, have a shower, and go to bed.

  The cab ride didn't take long. Max was checking his phone, which gave me a chance to look at him properly. The silly Christmas sweater didn’t do anything to make him any less attractive.

  He had light blond hair that was slightly shorter on the sides and left longer on top. I could see his chest and arm muscles straining the wool of the sweater, and holy fuck, the man had nice forearms.

  The lines of muscles flexed slightly as he tapped his fingers lightly on his leg. His hands looked strong but soft with long sinewy fingers that seemed as though they were made to do something that required precision, such as playing the piano or performing surgery.

  My eyes were still fixed on his hands when he cleared his throat, which made me look up at him, my face heating. He had a smile on his face, almost a smirk, and suddenly I felt like he was privy to something I wasn’t.

  “Dorian told me you’re leaving New York the day after tomorrow,” he said, his brown eyes shining bright with mischief.

  “Ye…” I croaked, realizing my voice wasn’t back yet. I pulled my phone from my pocket, typed on the notes app, and handed the phone to Max.

  Yes, I’m going home. Thank you for saving me last night and staying with me in the hospital. I don’t know how serious the fire was, but I feel like I owe you my life.

  He risked his life to come back for me, and I didn’t know how to thank him.

  All I knew was that in less than twelve hours, I’d become an uncle and escaped death. In just over twenty-four, I would be leaving New York to go back to Portugal.

  “I saw you leave the room. I had to make sure you weren’t left behind. Anyone would have done the same.” Max played it down, but I’d make sure to thank him.

  Can I buy you breakfast to thank you? I never had a chance to find out about the work you do for the center, I typed. Of course, spending a bit longer with him would probably fuel my forearm fantasies for months.

  “You can do better.” He grinned.

  “Oh?” My answer came out as a whisper.

  “Spend tomorrow with me.”

  My smile answered for me as much as my blush. I was sure of that.

  4

  Max

  Isaac looked positively adorable when he blushed. It took all my strength not to push his curls back from his face so I could see if the pinked skin reached further down his neck. Also, his eyes. Fuck me sideways and hang me on a Christmas tree, I was sure they weren’t human. They kept changing color, sometimes a shade of blue and sometimes green, very light with a dark ring around the iris.

  It was too hard not to stare, so now that Isaac agreed to spend the day with me, I was determined to give him ‘Max’s Special New York Christmas Tour.’

  The cab pulled up in front of the hotel, and I paid the fare and helped Isaac out.

  “Is it okay if I take you to your room before I go?” I asked. I wanted to make sure he was comfortable and safe.

  He nodded in agreement and smiled, so we went inside the hotel lobby and walked toward the elevator.

  Isaac quickly found the key card and opened the door, and I followed him inside. There was a king-size bed at one end of the room, and I could see a bathroom at the other end. The curtains hadn’t been drawn, so we could see the bright street lights outside.

  The room was a decent size and nicely decorated, but most importantly, it looked clean.

  As we went further in and Isaac turned the lights on, I realized there was additional space behind the door where there was a big couch with a coffee table in front of it.

  Isaac looked exhausted. I ran a hand through my hair trying to find the right words to make sure he didn’t freak out. After all, he didn’t know me at all apart from the fact I’d saved him.

  “Isaac, er…I was wondering, since you have a couch here, could I stay the night?”

  He looked at me with his mouth agape and his eyes wide open in shock. Shit!

  “I’m sorry. I know you have only just met me, but I would feel better knowing I’m here if you need anything or feel unwell.” I hoped he could feel my genuine intent. Truth is, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to sleep at all tonight. Not with Isaac just barely out of the hospital.

  He took a deep breath, sat down on the bed, and started taking his shoes off, so I sat on the sofa opposite where he was, waiting for his answer. He seemed to be pondering what to say, but after a minute, he grabbed his phone again and started typing.

  Thank you for your offer. I feel you have already done so much for me, I can’t ask you to sleep on a couch just to look after me. He passed me the phone so I could read the message.

  “Isaac, I sleep standing up against a wall at the hospital when I’m doing a double shift. The sleeping arrangement isn’t an issue.” I smiled at him.

  I’d managed to sleep in much worse places than this comfortable couch, but it wasn’t a thought I wanted to have right now, so I put it aside.

  He handed me the phone again, smiling back, his eyes tired but warm. If you’re sure you’ll be comfortable, then I’d actually be quite happy knowing I’m not on my own.

  Relief settled over me like a nice, cozy blanket.

  I grabbed a pillow and blanket from the wardrobe to make my bed on the couch while Isaac had a shower to get rid of the smell of smoke and hospital, then I had a shower myself.

  The couch was surprisingly comfortable, and the slight gap in the curtains allowed some light to shine in the room providing me with the perfect outline of Isaac’s body on the bed.

  I knew once his chest had settled into a regular, slow pattern of rising and falling that he was asleep. It didn’t take me long to drift off after that.

  Morning came all too quickly, but it seemed I wasn’t the first one up because when I opened my eyes, I saw Isaac coming out of the bathroom fully dressed in clothes that fit him much better than mine had, shaven, and his hair slightly damp with some of his curls stuck to his face.

  He was wearing a pair of tight jeans that showed his long, slim legs, and I was sure I would thoroughly enjoy the view from the back, too. He also wore a knitted sweater with a button-up shirt under it. He looked like the boy next door turned into a runway model, equal parts approachable and out of reach. It was going to be a long day if my attraction to Isaac didn’t go away and I couldn’t touch him.

  “Good morning,” Isaac hesitated, coming to sit on the side of the bed in front of me. “Did you sleep well?” His voice was raspy and low, but it didn’t sound like he was struggling to speak.

  “Like a baby. So much for keeping an eye on you,” I chuckled. “I didn’t wake up once.”

  “I slept well, too. I think it helped that you were here,” he said, blushing e
ver so slightly.

  “Do you want to wear your sweater again? Or I’m sure I could find something that would fit you…I mean, it would be a little small, but…” His voice trailed off, his cheeks reddening even more.

  “Why?” I teased. “Don’t you like my Christmas sweater?” I asked, grabbing the ugly thing and propping it up against my chest as if it was the best piece of clothing I owned.

  When Isaac’s eyes opened wide, I laughed.

  “It’s gross, isn’t it?” I snorted, looking down at the offending item. “Jean-Paul is obsessed with Christmas sweaters. We had a bet going on, and I lost. My penalty was to wear this to the conference,” I confessed.

  Deciding to forego the Christmas fashion statement, I put on the sweater Isaac borrowed from me last night over my shirt.

  He chuckled. “I’m afraid to ask what the bet was about.”

  “You don’t want to know, trust me. Come on, let’s go to the center to retrieve your coat so I can show you my city.” I was dying to get out on the street again, and the second stop would be for breakfast in my favorite coffee shop.

  Our visit to the center was brief since both Dorian and Jean-Paul were busy dealing with the aftermath of the fire. I promised to come back on my next day off to lend a hand, and Isaac thanked them for their support and promised to visit again in the future.

  Once we were out on the street, and with Isaac suitably prepared for the December weather now that he had his coat back, I directed us toward my favorite coffee shop, Café-Café.

  Isaac looked puzzled but amused as we approached the tiny establishment. With space at a premium in Manhattan, it wasn’t unusual for businesses here to occupy a small space since most people took their coffee to go.

  “Bom dia, Linda. You are beautiful as always,” I said, greeting the owner, Linda, in her native language and making a play on the meaning of her name. I’d been coming to Café-Café since the day Linda opened, and our greeting had become a bit of a tradition since I found out she’s a second-generation Portuguese-American.

  “Max, you know your charm doesn’t work on me,” Linda said before she asked me if I would like the usual and then looked at Isaac for his order. Isaac was looking at me like I had grown a third head.

  “Um, are you okay, Isaac? You want a coffee, right?” He just stared at me. “Or maybe tea?” I asked tentatively.

  “You speak Portuguese?” Isaac blurted, finally speaking but not answering my question.

  “Coffee? Tea?” Linda asked again, and I heard the smile in her voice even though I was looking at Isaac.

  “Coffee, please,” Isaac said to Linda, finally acknowledging she was waiting for his response. Then he turned back to me. “You speak Portuguese.”

  I laughed. “Yeah, my best friend is Portuguese, so I learned from him when I was twelve.”

  “I speak Portuguese, too,” he beamed, “I mean, I’m from Portugal, so obviously I do.”

  “I heard your accent, but I couldn’t tell where it was from.”

  Despite growing up in Portugal, my best friend Joel didn’t have an accent. His dad was American, and his Portuguese mom had almost lost hers, as well, after so many years in the states.

  “Would it be easier for you if we spoke Portuguese?” I asked.

  “Definitely,” Isaac said. “But I’d like to practice my English if you’re okay with it.”

  I nodded. “I understand. When I learned Portuguese, I wanted to practice all the time, so I was always at my friend’s place. Now I’m glad I did learn.”

  Isaac smiled shyly but nodded.

  “There you go, boys,” Linda said, placing the two coffees on the counter. I also bought us a custard tart each to go. We grabbed them and headed out since it would take us about half an hour to get to Bryant Park, our next destination.

  “Thank you for breakfast,” Isaac said. “I should probably keep this part of the New York experience a secret since my best friend makes these for a living.” He lifted up the hand that was holding the custard tart.

  “Well, you wouldn’t want to be accused of treason or be the cause of a rift between Portugal and America, would you?”

  “I wouldn’t dare,” Isaac said with a chuckle.

  5

  Isaac

  I couldn’t believe that Max spoke Portuguese. I’d traveled over three thousand miles, and here I was, exploring New York with someone that spoke my language. I smiled to myself as I sipped my coffee.

  “What are you smiling about?” Max asked.

  “Nothing,” I muttered into my cup. “Just how out of all the random things in the world, you happen to speak Portuguese. Where are we going, by the way?” We seemed to be walking in a straight line, which I had come to learn was quite the standard in Manhattan. Lisbon, my home city and the capital of Portugal, was so different with its web of streets and hills.

  “We’re going to Bryant Park. They have the best Christmas Winter Village in the city.” Max sounded excited. I smiled, trying to take in some of his enthusiasm. I thought maybe we might see a museum or visit the landmark buildings the city was known for, but it seemed I was getting Max’s Christmas tour.

  All of the bad things in my life had happened at Christmas. I'd come through the bad times but still couldn’t connect with this holiday. Of course, Max didn’t know that, so I was determined to have a good time.

  Not that I was a Scrooge or anything. I usually celebrated Christmas with my brother and his wife—we had dinner together and exchanged presents—but somehow, I was always the least joyful of the three. Of course, now with my niece Sofia joining our family, I wanted to put a lot more effort into it for her. Speaking of which.

  “Max, is Macy’s nearby? I saw a sign.”

  “Yeah, it’s not far. Why, do you want to go in?” he asked.

  “If it’s okay. I became an uncle last night, and I’d love to buy my niece a present from New York,” I said.

  Maybe I could make this a new Christmas tradition. I could buy her something Christmassy from every place I visit, and she could collect them.

  I was thinking about it when suddenly big, strong arms came around me, making me lose my breath in a whoosh.

  “Congratulations, Isaac! Why didn’t you say that earlier?” Max stepped back from the hug with a big smile on his face as though he was the one with the newborn niece. He grabbed my hand and pulled me in the direction of the big department store, but the moment our hands connected, I felt a jolt of electricity.

  It was so unexpected, I withdrew my hand and apologized immediately, cursing the static. Max looked at me, his face tensing but then going soft, his brown eyes slightly darker than earlier.

  “Which way is it?” I asked.

  “Um… this way, it’s not far.”

  I followed him a few yards, spotting Macy’s well before I saw the sign for 34th Street. Well, it was hard not to miss the gigantic building and the more prominent sign saying Macy’s. I really hoped I’d find a nice present for Sofia there.

  As we walked in, my senses were assaulted by the brightness of lights, colors, and even the smells. Behind a roast chestnut cart, a man dressed in a red and white striped suit and a straw hat was roasting chestnuts and offering samples to customers coming in. I didn’t care much for roasted chestnuts, but I did love the smell and all the memories it brought back to me.

  In Portugal, we celebrated Saint Martin’s day by roasting chestnuts in November, a tradition that carried on throughout the cold winter months.

  “This smell reminds me of people in my hometown getting together to make a bonfire and roast chestnuts on the street,” I said. “Doesn’t happen so much anymore since people started socializing online rather than in person, but you can still get roasted chestnuts on the street from independent vendors.”

  “You get them here, too. I love the smell but don’t really like the taste,” Max said.

  “Really? I’m the same,” I chuckled.

  We went straight to the jewelry department where I bo
ught Sofia a beautiful child’s bracelet that was engraved with her name and date of birth, and then Max insisted on visiting the Christmas floors. Yes, floors, since there were two floors completely dedicated to Christmas decorations, trees, and everything anyone might need to make their Christmas season perfect.

  As soon as we got to the top of the escalator on the second floor, the first of the Christmas floors, I could see the display of decorated Christmas trees. They were of various sizes, some small, but others were easily taller than me, and the decorations were so intricate that I was certain they would cost more than I make in a month.

  “This level needs a warning for bright, flashing lights,” I said, turning to Max whose face was lit up as much as the Christmas trees. He seemed so happy, his eyes coming alive and his smile telling a thousand stories of Christmases past.

  “Look!” Max yelped. “They have a My First Christmas ornament. You should get that for your niece and put it on your tree this year.”

  “That’s actually a great idea.” I grabbed one of the ornaments and realized they were made of blown clear glass that reflected a spectrum of colors. This would be something that Sofia could keep forever. Her first keepsake from me.

  I took it to the cashier to pay. I was already in line when I realized that Max was gone. It wasn’t until I had paid and had the ornament carefully wrapped in a box that he appeared again holding a small bag.

  “I see you did some shopping, too,” I said, seeing a speck of red in his cheeks. Was Max blushing? His face was a spectrum of emotions I couldn’t quite read. He was avoiding looking at me, but I could see he was also excited about something.

  “Come on, let's get out of here,” he said. “The park isn’t far.”

  Max was right. It didn’t take us long to get to the park, and when he promised that Bryant Park’s Winter Village was the best in the City, he hadn’t lied. There were numerous glass kiosks selling food and gifts, a large Christmas tree, and even an ice rink. The air was cold and smelled of sugared almonds and roasted chestnuts.