Max
Lisbon— June, six months later
“I missed you so much,” I said, but what I really wanted to do was pull him into my arms.
Isaac pushed me away, his eyes tight and piercing.
“What do you mean, you missed me so much? If you’d missed me so much, then why didn’t you—”
“Isaac.” I put my hands on either side of his face so he would have no choice but to hear me out. “Can we talk, please?”
Fate really was a bitch.
I didn’t dare break eye contact for fear this was all a dream.
The club was packed, so when someone elbowed me as they were trying to get past, the motion jolted me into action, and with one step forward, I wrapped Isaac in my arms, my face burrowing in the space between his neck and shoulder, his mass of dark curls soft against my skin.
He froze for a moment, but then his arms came around me. As his body relaxed into the embrace, I swear a sob came from his chest.
He smelled of fresh pine; manly, woody, and so familiar it was making me dizzy.
I wanted to stay with Isaac like this for as long as I possibly could, which turned out to be not long at all because I had to ruin the moment with those five words.
He let out a long breath as if he was reminding himself we were in a club surrounded by people and sat down at the table. I wanted to sit next to him, but it would be easier to keep eye contact if we were facing each other.
It had taken two days last Christmas for Isaac to do what many had tried and failed. He’d unpeeled the many layers of protection I’d built around my heart before hopping on a plane to return to his home in Portugal.
Six months later and three thousand miles away from my home in New York, I found myself right back where I’d been on the night I’d saved him from a fire, feeling like I’d been punched in the gut.
Except this time, it was worse because I already knew what those eyes looked like when he smiled, what those lips looked like when they were all plump from kissing, and what his mere presence could do to my heart.
I should have known this would happen. There hadn’t been a day since I’d booked my flight to Portugal that I hadn’t thought of him. If I was honest, there hadn’t been a single day since I last saw him that he hadn’t teased my thoughts.
The first time I’d looked into his eyes after I’d saved him from the fire, he’d been barely conscious, sitting against me on the pavement outside the LGBT Youth Center. All I’d seen was his wild, curly hair, but when I’d pushed it away from his face and seen him open his eyes, he’d literally taken my breath away.
The second time I’d had the chance to look into his eyes from a close distance, I’d seen it all, and it had been just before he’d pulled me into a kiss on top of the Empire State Building.
My best friend, Joel, was on the dance floor and had his arms wrapped around his boyfriend, David, and was whispering something in his ear. I hadn’t even noticed them stepping away from us. David’s slow smile, the way he leaned his head back into Joel and looked at him like he was the most precious thing in the world told me how much he cared for him.
Then it hit me. Isaac had been sitting at the table with David. Did they know each other?
“Max!” Isaac shouted. “You wanted to talk? Talk. You know what, maybe this is a bad idea. I should go.” He shifted in his chair to leave, but I covered his hand with mine.
“How do you know David?”
“We’ve been friends since school, if you must know. Is that it? Can I go now?”
“No, please, Isaac. I just don’t know where to start. I wasn’t expecting to see you here, or at all.” I took in a deep breath and then let it out slowly.
“Meeting you last Christmas was the best thing that had happened to mein a long time,” I said. “I can’t explain how hard it was to see you go through the departure doors at the airport. The only thing that kept me from chasing after you and begging you to stay was that we’d promised to keep in touch, and we’d only just met.”
I ran a hand through my hair, remembering how my heart had shattered when we’d said goodbye, even though I couldn’t understand why. We’d spent less than two days together, but we’d had this amazing chemistry, and once we’d given in to it, there was no going back—at least for me.
“But that’s it. We exchanged email addresses. We agreedto keep in touch.” He looked to where our hands were still touching. I didn’t realize I’d been rubbing circles around his knuckles.
I really wished we could have this conversation elsewhere, but I didn’t dare suggest it in case it broke the moment.
“Joel’s parents died that day,” I said. The memory alone was enough to bring tears to my eyes.
