Page 78 of Maximum Dare
Dragging my bag onto my lap, I reached in and opened my purse, rummaging around for cash.
“Is it the cost?” he asked.
“No.”
Max waved a hand. “I’ve got this.”
I need fresh air.
“I want to pay.” With a trembling hand, I threw several twenty-pound notes on the table.
Max snatched them up and pushed to his feet. He shoved the money back into my handbag. “This is my treat.”
My chair squeaked as I pushed it back. “I’m sorry. I have to go.”
He looked confused. “Did I say something to offend you?”
I rushed for the door and stepped outside, sucking in cold air, trying to calm my breathing, glancing left and right to get my bearings.
I needed to get home…needed to push that haunting memory away.
Max’s strong arm pulled me back, crushing me against his firm chest.
“Take a breath.”
I gave a nod that I was calmer.
He spun me around to face him and gripped my shoulders. “What just happened in there?”
“I’m never going to see you again after you go back to Brazil. And it’s my fault.”
Max yanked me against his chest in a bear hug. He was too strong for me to pull away from. This was only delaying the agony—parting from him now would hurt so much worse than before.
“I’ve upset you.” He pressed his lips to the top of my head. “You have to tell me why, Daisy.”
“Can you take me home?”
“Of course.” He led me back to his car, glancing at me with concern as he opened the passenger door. “Please talk to me about what’s bothering you.”
I climbed into the front seat. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
We drove across town in silence, the familiar landmarks proving we were heading in the right direction. Embarrassment over my outburst caused my cheeks to burn. This fear was embedded so deep within my soul that I knew nothing could be done about it.
I wanted to reach out to him, but didn’t…and I wanted to apologize for ruining our lunch, but my anxiety continued creeping and crawling throughout my body, causing my muscles to tighten and my throat to constrict, making it hard to breathe normally.
Max pulled the car up to my aunt’s house. When I went to unclip my seatbelt, his hand grabbed my wrist. “Wait.”
“I should go.”
I heard aclickand realized he had locked the car’s doors.
He turned to face me. “Consider yourself my prisoner. You’re not going anywhere until you tell me what happened back there.”
“Please, let me go.”
His hand slipped from mine and he leaned back with a sigh. “Trust me, Daisy. Give me that much, please.”
Tears stung my eyes and I felt those familiar feelings of guilt return with a vengeance.
