Made In Manhattan (Made In Series Book 2) Read online

  Made In Manhattan

  Ana Newfolk

  Contents

  Copyright

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Also by Ana Newfolk

  Made In Portugal

  About the Author

  Made In Manhattan © 2019 by Ana Newfolk

  First Edition: January 2019

  Cover design by: Rhys , Ethereal Ealain

  Editing by: Victoria Milne,

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopy, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  Made In Manhattan is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places events and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  “We all have dreams. But in order to make dreams come into reality, it takes an awful lot of determination, dedication, self-discipline, and effort.” - Jesse Owens

  We all need cheerleaders, whip crackers and laughter inducers: Rhys and George, thanks for being those things and more.

  My beta readers, Amanda and Fernanda, thank you so much for your time, patience and dedication.

  Frog, it’s going to be a good year.

  Chapter One

  Max

  Lisbon, June

  “I missed you so much.”

  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 me in 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 agreed to 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.

  “What day? When I left New York?”

  I nodded. “When I was at the airport, I called Joel. I was upset that you had to leave and didn’t know what to do so he told me to come over to his place. Shortly after I arrived at his apartment he had a visit from the police. His parents had been in a car accident and didn’t make it. It was two days before Christmas.”

  Isaac stared at me, and I wished I could read his mind because his face was giving nothing away. He didn’t know losing Joel’s parents was akin to losing my own. He didn’t know I had planned to come to Portugal to see him either, but that didn’t matter since I’d been unable to do much in the aftermath of Gary and Sílvia’s deaths than be with Joel.

  I hoped at least Isaac understood why I had made no contact initially.

  Isaac lo
oked at the dance floor toward Joel and David like he was trying to find answers.

  I was about to ask why he hadn’t used the email address I’d given him when a tall, blond-haired guy approached us, and sat next to Isaac.

  He looked me up and down as if he was assessing me. A small smile teased his lips. His eyes were probably a regular shade of brown but in the dark light of the club they looked too dark, assessing, and most definitely defiant.

  I tried to say something to let him know Isaac and I were talking, but he turned to Isaac, putting even less space between them.

  My hackles rose but Isaac didn’t flinch. It was sign of familiarity I wasn’t comfortable with but also couldn’t question.

  Maybe the guy was a friend who was looking out for Isaac, or maybe he had other intentions. Either way, I didn’t like my train of thought.

  The guy whispered something in Isaac’s ear, which he seemed to agree to because he got up from the table.

  “Isaac.” My face must have shown my confusion.

  He stopped for a second before he looked at me with regret and said, “I’ve got to go.”

  And with that I was left once again staring at his back as he walked away from me.

  Chapter Two

  Isaac

  Lisbon, September

  Normally the sound of waves crashing onto the beach was enough to get me running toward the cool waters of the Atlantic with my surfboard.

  My brother Alex always said in a previous life I must have been a fish because whenever I wasn’t at work or with him they could always find me at one of the many beaches on the Estoril Coast, a few miles north of Lisbon.

  I wasn’t so sure about that since I felt equally at ease in the city among the tall buildings and the people that always rushed like they needed to get to their destination yesterday.

  Today, however, I found myself on the beach, but after getting there I wasn’t feeling it. I’d got up early enough to catch the sun rising, grabbed my wetsuit and surf board, and driven to one of my favorite beaches.

  I’d had all intention of spending the best part of the morning on the water and then maybe stopping by Alex’s and catching my weekly fix of my niece Sofia’s cuddles.

  In reality, as soon as I looked at the ocean I didn’t feel like going in, even though the waves were particularly inviting today.

  I’d learned from experience to rely on my instincts so instead I sat on the sand, staring at the glittering reflection of the rising sun on the water.

  Maybe I’d go for a swim later instead. It wasn’t as hot now as it had been early in the summer when this had been the best time to surf before it got too hot. Now, the mid-September breeze was expected and welcome.

  The only problem with sitting on the sand was that my brain, as usual, refused to be quiet.

  It was hard to not work all the time when running an LGBTQ youth center. After all, how could I sit back and relax when I knew there were too many young LGBTQ guys and girls that were suffering at the hands of others or were homeless?

  Alex liked to remind me I wasn’t a superhero and couldn’t save everybody. What I did was important but I was also a human being and needed to look after myself. But work was my refuge.

  Fundação Arco-Iris (Rainbow Foundation) was my entire world. I’d built it from the ground up with the help of my friend Tiago I’d met at university in Lisbon.

  I’d been the gay kid kicked out of home by his homophobic parents, and had had something to prove to myself and to the world. Today, as the sun was warm on my face despite the slight breeze, there was only one thing on my mind. Well, someone. Max.

  I’d been hopeful about us keeping in touch after the time we’d spent together last Christmas in New York, even though I’d had no clue how a transatlantic relationship would work out.

  Relationships weren’t really something I did well. Every time I met someone it always ended with them breaking things off because I was always busy. There had been no one yet that understood my commitment to the Center and the young people I worked so hard to help.

  Something had told me Max was different from the other guys, which made not hearing from him much harder.

  I wondered if I’d imagined the time we’d spent walking the streets of Manhattan, ice skating, going up the Empire State Building, and especially the time we’d spent in my hotel room.

  A drunken night out with my best friend David on Valentine’s Day and a failed hookup with a stranger had been enough to make me swallow my pride and use the email address Max had given me. Just because he hadn’t made contact didn’t mean I couldn’t, right?

  Once I’d sobered up and realized what I’d done, I was too embarrassed to even look at my email inbox.

  A week later I was spared the embarrassment when I’d checked my emails and realized the email I’d sent Max had bounced back. Email address not recognized.

  I’d wondered if in my drunken state I’d misspelled the address. It wasn’t the case. Since Max had spelled it out so I could type it on my phone this could only mean he gave me a fake address.

  Some part of me, maybe the part that couldn’t forget the look in his eyes when we’d lain in bed together, didn’t want to believe he could do such a thing.

  A fake email address didn’t seem like something he’d do, but then again I still had the evidence sitting in my inbox. I hadn’t had the guts to delete it. Maybe I’d needed the reminder of his rejection so I could move on and stop thinking about him.

  Except I hadn’t moved on, and then I ran into him earlier in the summer, in Lisbon of all places.

  When I first saw him that night I’d thought my eyes were playing a trick on me. Then he’d hugged me and it had felt so right my brain had struggled to function.

  His smell had been intoxicating and his arms so strong, so solid around me. It had felt like my heart had spent the last six months fragmenting and all it had taken was one hug from Max for the pieces to drift toward each other again.

  That was until he’d opened his mouth.

  The feeling of rejection had come back with a vengeance, along with hurt, and anger. I must have been a sucker for punishment because when Max had asked to talk I’d let him.

  I don’t think I could have refused him any request no matter how much I tried to convince myself of the contrary.

  Before we’d had a chance to speak properly, Fred, a friend and local police detective, had interrupted us.

  Fred’s presence had reminded me of the reason I’d agreed to go out that night after David had asked if I’d wanted to go dancing with him and Joel.

  I needed to focus on what was more important.

  We’d need to talk properly. I’d heard part of his story and sensed there was more he hadn’t said.

  I’d been conflicted but my sense of duty and care had won out in the end. I’d had to go. I’d realized also that I’d be able to get his contact details from David and Joel so I could park that conversation for another time.

  Three months later and I still hadn’t done it. What a coward I was turning out to be.

  “Those waves won’t ride themselves, you know?”

  I looked up to see Fred standing next to me, his surfboard under his arm.

  “How would you know, Detective?” I said. “I can’t remember the last time I saw you riding one.”

  He quirked an eyebrow. “I keep offering, but you keep turning me down,” he said, sitting down next to me.

  Fred had been clear about his attraction to me from the moment we’d met.

  I knew he wanted to take me out and see if our relationship could go beyond our common interests, but Max was holding me back.

  Even after all these months, I still couldn’t bear the thought of being with another man after him.

  Besides, Fred reminded me too much of Max: same blond hair, same desire to save and protect people—except I didn’t feel the same chemistry.

  “Man, you’re all spaced out. What’s going on?”

  “What? Nothing
, I’m fine. Just not in the mood to surf today.”

  He looked me up and down and raised a brow.

  “You’re never not in the mood to surf. Talk to Uncle Fred.” He bumped his shoulder against mine.

  Could I let some of what was going through my head out? Maybe it would help talking it through.

  “Where do I start?” I sighed and filled him in.

  “Isaac, that’s… wait, in June? In Lisbon?”

  “Yes, that night you got the lead on the missing kid.”

  “Fuck, are you talking about the cute guy from the club?”

  “Yeah, he’s the one.”

  “Wow, and you have feelings for him?”

  “I do, or at least I’d love the chance to explore them, but not only is this all messed up because of the no contact thing before, and then the club thing, he lives in New York and I live here. It’s also weird that our best friends are together.”

  “Why is that weird?”

  “Don’t know. Maybe it’s not. Maybe I’m just finding excuses because now I know how to get his real contact details I’m afraid to do it.”

  “Surely he also knows how to get your details, no?”

  “He does, but I was the one who walked out on our last conversation. What if I reach out and he wants nothing to do with me?”

  Fred put his hand on my shoulder. “Maybe I should confess something too.”