Maximum Dare - Vanessa Fewings Page 0,75

being thwarted by the swimming pool incident. And then there I was dressed as a clown.

I put my hands over my eyes when that segment came on.

The last dare saw me elbow-deep in dirt as I dragged my body along a ditch and then clambered over a wall. I crawled under a barbed wire with my face covered in smudges of green camouflage.

Everyone featured in the footage cheered when they saw themselves. The images rotated to show each dare, coming back around to me and Max…

Both of us stood side by side atop The Shard. The chemistry between us was more pronounced than I’d realized. The footage had been filmed when neither of us had known the cameras were on us. It showed the affectionate glances we’d shared, those quiet moments where we touched hands, our fingers intertwining.

Nick had taken a seat to watch the montage. Now he pushed himself up out of the chair and grabbed his crutches.

I rushed after him as he hobbled towards the door.

When I caught up, he shot me an annoyed look. “It just kind of happened, I take it?”

“You were with Morgan.”

“Daisy, do you love him?”

“We’ve only known each other a few weeks. But he made me feel like I was worthy of happiness.”

Nick sneered. “So very Max.”

“I love him,” I blurted out. “I do.”

“And you felt like keeping it a secret?”

“I was waiting for the right time to tell you,” I said hoarsely.

“He left that night without saying goodbye, remember?” He let out a harsh laugh. “He didn’t even look back.”

“He did that for you,” I said softly.

Nick’s expression turned sad. “You and me, we’re only good for each other when someone dies.”

“Don’t say that.”

He headed toward the doorway, pausing when he got there to stare back at the TV screen, nodding at it so I’d turn and look at the footage they were showing.

There it was, me sitting astride Max after I’d shot out of the glass chute, having landed on top of him. What followed was that spontaneous kiss I’d shared with Max Marquis as he lay beneath me, our passion devastatingly real.

There was nothing more to say.

That kiss told the beautiful truth.

A shiver ran through me as I watched Nick leave.

Being at work was stifling, with every task seemingly five times more tedious. I’d dragged myself around the showroom all day greeting guests, forcing myself to smile whenever a customer came in, trying to act cheerful when they wanted to try on a dress.

But I couldn’t shake this heartache.

Losing Max had been worse than losing Nick, or my home, or the life I’d known.

I recalled Max’s expression at the party a week ago, as he looked at me and Nick standing side by side in the kitchen—and now I saw it through a new perspective.

Max had ended our relationship earlier that night for Nick’s sake, and yet he’d remained by my side. Even then he’d been strong.

Not being able to talk with him was the hardest thing I’d ever experienced. That text Max had sent me saying we should catch up next month was his way of distancing himself.

I missed him.

I’d been wearing my favorite gown when Max had left me back at Hampstead after the party. Funny how I’d thought that glamorous gown would bring me happiness.

Nothing would…not really.

That night, I’d had to face off with the “dragon” and then wrangle with Nick afterward, trying to avoid any physical contact. My loyalty to Max would never waver.

For the thirtieth time today, I hid away in a changing stall, burying my face in my hands, lost in my despair, trying not to let anyone see me like this.

I couldn’t wait to get home, even though my bedroom was small, the walls too close. But even that place held loving memories of Max.

Nick and I had no love left between us. I’d stood in the same room with him and felt nothing. We’d been together for all the wrong reasons.

A voice rose from the adjacent cubicle. “Where’s that shop slave when you need her?”

I heard hysterical giggling from the two girls.

Pushing to my feet, I left my cubicle and knocked on theirs. “Can I help you?”

I heard sheepish laughter and then the door opened.

A pretty twenty-something handed me a dress on a hanger. “I need this in a ten.”

“Got it,” I said with a fake smile, hoping it looked real.

Within a few minutes, I returned with the dress in the requested size and gave the cubicle door another knock. “Here you