Misadventures with a Time Traveler by Angel Payne

Author:Angel Payne
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Waterhouse Press

Chapter Eight

Max

Of all the astounding things I have experienced today, this is one of the best.

“These are called…sweatpants?”

Henri De Leon shrugs. “Oui.”

“But they do not make me sweat.” In truth, they are the most sumptuous garment in which I have ever been clothed. The cloth is fine and soft, molding itself to the body in the sweetest of ways. I am baffled as to why the people of this era, with their progressive ideas about clothing, are wearing anything other than this finery.

“The idea, I believe, is that you would eventually do so.” Though Henri’s tone is casual, his frown tightens. Given the bizarre manner in which he met me an hour ago, I would have a similar composure. It is another reason why I keep the conversation on simpler subjects, such as getting into the short black frock—he called this part a T-shirt—that is an equal godsend of comfort to my skin.

As I stretch the garment over my torso, I surrender to a groan of complete pleasure.

Henri tautens again, clearly misreading my sound as disapproval. “I apologize, monsieur, that I do not have more suitable attire to offer you.” He gestures to my ensemble. “I only have these because of coincidence. A guest left them two weeks ago and told us not to bother with the return shipping.”

“Why?” I do not hide my incredulity.

He shrugs. “I imagine they purchased others.”

“That quickly?” I lift the bottom of the shirt and again examine its hem. “But stitchery like this must take weeks, if not months!”

“Yes. Well…” He looks me over from head to toe, appearing relieved for the chance to openly scrutinize me another time. “Perhaps we should simply be grateful he was built more like you than I am.”

“Very grateful.” I chuckle, hoping he feels invited to join me. When he remains as stoic as a priest, I risk reaching and clapping him on the shoulder. “Monsieur, please be not troubled any longer. I am profoundly thankful for your kindness. You found a stranger in your library, rolling around on the floor with your dog, and have now nearly given that man the clothes off your back.” The tension in his shoulder slackens. I attempt a new smile. “That stranger is deeply in your debt.”

“Stranger.” His grunt strips away the word’s credence. “Look me in the eyes and tell me you believe that, Maximillian.” He nods as I stiffen my stance. “Ah. So that is your name, then.”

I look back up but only get as far as the end of his bold, straight nose. A nose uncannily similar to mine. “I think we both know the answer to that, Henri.”

“My God,” he says. With his long De Leon fingers, he scrubs one side of his jaw. “It cannot be—and yet it truly is.”

“So…you do know?” My spine is now as stiff as the steel pieces of his hanging coat rods. “The whole story?”

He nods in shaky spurts. “I—I am sorry.”

“Why?” I counter. “I would not believe it if I were you either.

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