Page 21 of Maximum Dare
“Tell him I’ll be gentle.”
“How do you mean?”
“The last time I got close to you he overreacted.”
He tipped my chin up. “I can handle you, Daisy.”
“I’d like that.” I tried to hide my embarrassment.
My stomach felt like it was filling up with butterflies.
Max smiled. “It’s the least I can do.”
He pivoted and walked toward the truck.
The upbeat movers seemed happily surprised by the lack of items they had to carry out of the place. They stacked the boxes and suitcases into the back of their ginormous truck—so few they looked ridiculous on their own in there.
Within a few minutes, I’d locked up the house and handed over the door keys to Max.
I hesitated on the walkway, looking up at our former home.
My insides turned to jelly as I replayed all the things I could have done to prevent this from happening. Our relationship had always seemed easy, and maybe that was where it had gone wrong. It had felt as natural as breathing, and we’d always felt safe.I’dalways felt safe.
My feet wanted to carry me back inside and return somehow to that life of happiness. I wanted to wake up from this nightmare.
Max looked at me with concern.
I continued down the pathway, holding my breath until what felt like a tidal wave of loss no longer paralyzed me. With a fake smile, I wrote down my aunt’s address and gave it to the truck driver.
“You don’t have to stay,” I told Max. “The truck is more than enough.”
“It’s fine.”
My voice cracked with emotion. “Nick sent you to make sure I left?”
“I wanted to be here.”
“Everyone dreads moving day.” I looked at him, surprised. “No one volunteers for this.”
He smiled. “Well, it’s not like I’ve had to lift anything.”
“There’re plenty of other things you could be doing.”
“You saved me from having afternoon tea with my mother and her friends. Quite frankly, I owe you.”
I relented and led the way over to my Mini Cooper, clicking the doors open.
Before Max got into the car, he looked back at the house. “You were good for Nick, Daisy, no matter what else has happened.”
“You really believe that?”
“After his dad died, you were like an anchor in a storm for him.”
His words sent regret through me, because this was how I felt, too. Yet nothing could be done about it. It was like watching someone you love drive on the wrong side of the road. Yes, they’d hurt you, but the mistake they were making somehow hurt more.
Max climbed into the driver’s seat of my Mini, shaking his head in amusement at how cramped it was as he adjusted the seat back to accommodate his long legs. I sat beside him, pointing out where the indicators were.
With my mind spiraling and being so distracted, I was relieved that he had offered to drive. Had I been alone, I’d have sobbed all the way to Richmond and probably crashed on the way. With Max throwing me reassuring glances, I was able to hold back my emotions and not embarrass myself.
