Page 30 of Maximum Dare
“I don’t want it.” I drew in a sharp breath. “I just want Nick to be safe.”
Max rolled his eyes. “For God’s sake, Daisy. He’s fine.”
Whipping out my phone, I brought up the Instagram app and Morgan’s page, turning the screen so he could see the latest photo she’d posted.
He kept his gaze on me instead. “Daisy, you need to delete Instagram off your phone.”
“I did.” Okay, that sounded batshit crazy. “Then I went and reinstalled it.”Because someone has to watch out for your brother.
Max looked down at the photo and flinched. “Whoa, what is that?”
“That’s your brother’s bum. Morgan had him do a moony out of a limo window.”
Max shook his head, his hands scraping his face in exasperation. “That’s one for National Geographic.”
“Now do you see?” I snapped.
“Can’t un-see it.”
“This is not funny.”
“Don’t give Morgan the pleasure of seeing you following her on there.” He sounded annoyed. “She’ll only taunt you with worse photos.”
“Don’t you see? She’s taunting everyone.”
“Daisy, you need to move on,” he said.
“I don’t think I can.”
Max reached into his inner pocket and pulled out a gold envelope. “You probably won’t be interested in this, then.”
My cheeks burned as I stared at the same envelope I’d pinched from Morgan’s purse.
“It’s an invitation,” he said, passing it to me. “Thought you might like to go.”
“Not sure I should.” Though curiosity had me wanting to know what event it was for.
“Why not?”
“It’s not meant for me.”
He looked away. “All you have to do is turn up. Have fun.”
Fun?
I’d given up on fun. My fingers traced along the broken edge of the envelope. Reluctantly, I shoved it into my handbag. This was karma reminding me of my wayward behavior at Isobel’s.
Getting those new glasses was a sign my connection with Nick’s family was over. Max had merely ensured there’d be no hard feelings. It meant I’d be wearing evidence of their pity. They could keep their money.
Max climbed out of the Tesla and it was impossible for me to drag my gaze away from him as he strolled with confidence around the front of the car. He seemed unaffected by our tension-fueled conversation. Whatever chemistry we’d had back at the optometrist had seemingly evaporated into thin air.
My crush on Max had morphed into feelings of doubt and humiliation.
He opened my car door and helped me climb out onto the pavement.
We shared an awkward hug. My face squished against his firm chest in an annoyingly perfect fit as he held me there, as though he were forcing an apology on me.
He suddenly broke away from me and headed around to the other side of his car without looking back. Because I was firmly in the history zone to him.
