Courting Trouble, page 11
Bloody Petra. Standing just beyond the fence, arms folded. Watching.
Cassie didn’t see her. She was still looking at Delilah, still stunned into silence.
But Delilah saw. And from the shape of Petra’s mouth, the slight lift of her eyebrow, it was obvious she’d seen everything. Suddenly, Delilah felt cold all over. Like someone had reached out and grabbed her heart with an ice-cold hand.
Cassie followed her gaze and froze when she saw her. Petra slowly turned and walked away.
That pretty much killed the moment.
They packed up for the day and left the court, not really looking at each other.
Fifty-Two
Cassie lay on her back on her bed, staring at the ceiling she was coming to know so well. Delilah was off somewhere, talking to her agent. Cassie hadn’t changed out of her training clothes. She hadn’t showered. Her entire body was still pulsing with adrenaline.
Delilah had kissed her.
Not a mistake, not a dream. An actual kiss. Delilah had leaned in and kissed her.
Cassie replayed it over and over again, unable to stop. The way Delilah had looked up at her, bright-eyed and flushed, the unguarded grin on her face. And then that sudden press of lips. Pure electricity. And then, the look on her face when she realised what she’d done. Mortified. Adorable.
Cassie groaned and covered her eyes with her hands. It was happening. This was actually happening. The current between them wasn’t imagined. Delilah liked her.
She rolled onto her side, heart skittering.
But now what?
Cassie wasn’t good at this part. She wasn’t good at sweet gestures or flirty back-and-forth. With Petra, it had been all heat and competition and throwing each other around. It hadn’t left room for a lot of romance.
And that’s what Delilah deserved, wasn’t it? Something intentional, something that said: I like you, too. You didn’t misread this.
But what could she even do? Where did she start? She didn’t have a clue.
All she knew was something had to happen. Because it was very much Cassie’s move now, wasn’t it? If she did nothing, Delilah might think there was nothing more to be said about that kiss. Cassie was scared to let her know how she felt, but she was more scared not to. So, for the first time in a long time, she needed to move in a forward direction.
She sat up, chewing her thumbnail, brain scrambling. How the hell to romance Delilah Day?
A letter? Cassie wasn’t much of a writer. Flowers? A bit over the top. A playlist? She wasn’t twelve.
Food?
An idea bloomed. Silly, small. But maybe right.
Cassie grabbed her hoodie and left the bungalow, heart hammering. She didn’t know what this was yet. Or how they’d navigate it. But she was doing something.
Because it was Cassie’s turn.
Fifty-Three
When Delilah came back to the cabin, she was alone.
Ashley had slotted her in for a last-minute self-tape audition, just two lines for some rubbish daytime medical show. Shaky as things were, Delilah couldn’t afford to turn it down. So she’d rattled through it on her phone, eager to get back to the cabin and see where Cassie stood after Kiss-Gate.
Because Cassie had blushed, hadn’t she? Which meant… what? That she liked it? That she liked her? If only Petra hadn’t pulled her little jump scare and ruined the moment.
Only Cassie wasn’t at the cabin to be read.
A terrible thought struck Delilah. While Delilah was standing behind a bush, looking into her phone and saying, ‘Sometimes the hardest part of this job isn’t the injuries. It’s watching people fall apart,’ Cassie had run off to find Petra. That the jealous look Petra had given them was what Cassie had been waiting for all along. That’s why they were really here. For Cassie to get Petra back.
Forget about that silly actress. It’s always been you, Cassie would say, and Petra would fall upon her like a hungry Russian wolf.
Delilah sat on the edge of the bed. The lamp on her bedside table glowed weakly, casting her reflection in the dark window: she looked tired. In no position to win Cassie’s heart, that was for sure. Whatever the situation with her and Petra, however toxic, Delilah had to look at it as though she were trying to play tennis against Petra. She simply couldn’t compete. She was vastly lacking in the needed skills. She didn’t even know what they were.
She stood, padding barefoot across the room to head for the shower. That’s when she heard the door.
But it didn’t open. It was like someone was simply… scrabbling at it.
Delilah frowned and stepped closer. The noise was persistent, a frantic scraping followed by a muffled thunk. Delilah opened the door.
Cassie was there, face pink and slightly sweaty, balancing a box so large she could barely see over the top of it. A keyring dangled uselessly from her other hand, clinking with every failed attempt to fit a key into the lock.
‘Cassie?’ Delilah blinked. ‘What on earth—’
‘Oh my God—hi—uh—hang on—wait—don’t—’ Cassie shuffled sideways, nearly toppling the box, clutching it to her chest like it contained priceless artefacts.
Delilah instinctively reached out. ‘You’re going to drop it—’
‘No! Don’t!’ Cassie yelped, twisting away. The keys fell with a jangle onto the porch. She froze, staring at Delilah with wild eyes. ‘It’s… It’s fine. I’ve got it. Totally fine.’ She frowned. ‘I should have just put the box down first.’
Delilah tilted her head, trying to peer over the box. ‘What are you even—’
Cassie shifted her weight, and the lid shifted too, just enough for Delilah to glimpse a bright yellow, suspiciously familiar packet.
‘Oh my God,’ Delilah whispered. She put a hand over her mouth. ‘Are those… Jelly Babies?’
Cassie winced like she’d been caught red-handed. ‘It’s nothing! Just, just a thing. Just… supplies.’
‘Supplies?’ Delilah stepped forward, tugging at the edge of the box until Cassie, panicked, let her look inside. The sight nearly made Delilah burst out laughing: a teetering, jam-packed stack of Jelly Babies bags.
‘Yes?’ Cassie’s voice wobbled. ‘I mean, it’s too much, isn’t it? I was just trying to make sure you didn’t run out again. The village shop had a surprising amount. They didn’t want to sell me all of them; I had to haggle for them. I’m pretty sure I got shafted.’
Delilah turned to her, eyebrows raised. ‘Cassie. What is this?’
‘I thought—’ Cassie looked like she wanted the ground to swallow her whole. ‘I know you ran out. And you know, I just… wanted to… do something nice.’ She trailed off, shifting from foot to foot, clearly mortified.
It hit Delilah then: this wasn’t about Jelly Babies. It was about her. Cassie had lugged this ridiculous, enormous box all the way up here because she wanted to make her happy.
This was an unignorable gesture.
Delilah’s pulse jumped. She could feel the fear rising in her chest, nudging at an instinct to laugh it off, to play dumb. But she forced herself to stand steady. To not run.
‘Cassie,’ she said softly.
Cassie grimaced. ‘I know, it’s stupid. I should’ve just—’
‘It’s not stupid.’ Delilah put her hand lightly on the box, steadying it. She could feel Cassie’s fingers tense beneath the cardboard. ‘It’s… perfect.’
Cassie blinked at her, wide-eyed. ‘It is?’
Delilah swallowed. Then, with a shaky laugh, she said, ‘Look, if you’re going to bring me the village’s entire supply of Jelly Babies, the least I can do is buy you dinner. Properly. Not here.’
For a second, Cassie just gaped at her. ‘Really?’ she managed to say eventually.
‘Really.’
Cassie let out a disbelieving laugh, her whole body relaxing against the weight of the box. ‘OK. Yeah. That sounds fine. Good, I mean. Nice.’
Delilah grinned, nerves fizzing like Jelly Babies dropped into Coke. She reached down, scooped up Cassie’s dropped keys, and pushed the door open wider. ‘But first, let’s get this giant box inside before your arms fall off.’
Cassie laughed again, following her in, and for once, Delilah didn’t feel like she was competing with anyone.
Fifty-Four
It was just past eight, and they were parking up outside The Mare & Foal, the low-lit pub Cassie knew from her early training days, a place the players used to sneak to for an off-diet drink.
Delilah was already out of the car.
‘This is the spot?’ she asked, looking up at the timber-framed building with its battered sign.
‘It’s not glamorous,’ Cassie said apologetically.
‘Neither am I,’ Delilah said.
They’d both changed and showered and were in, if not date clothes, fresh ones. Neither had packed in the expectation of any kind of a date, so the effort showed in small, telling ways: Cassie had swapped her usual scuffed trainers for clean boots, Delilah’s eyeliner was sharper than usual.
Cassie held the door for her, and Delilah gave her a brief look. Not teasing exactly, more an acknowledgement. I see you dating me, and I like it.
Inside, the pub was warm and cosily lit. Cassie steered them toward a corner booth half-hidden by a wooden beam, and they slipped into the seats.
Delilah rested her forearms on the table, studying her with a smile that was all too knowing. ‘Very lowkey, Coach.’
Cassie lifted a brow. ‘Maybe don’t call me coach tonight.’
Delilah’s mouth dropped. ‘Oh yeah. Right,’ she muttered, rolling her eyes at herself.
Cassie liked it. She was nervous. They both were.
Delilah tried to recover the moment with a quick subject change. ‘What are you having to drink?’
‘Beer.’
Delilah blinked. ‘I can’t imagine you imbibing alcohol.’
‘What?’ Cassie said, surprised. ‘Of course I do.’
Delilah gave herself a little nod. ‘Oh, right. Because you’re human. Have to try and remember that.’
Cassie chuckled, bemused.
They ordered burgers with triple-cooked chips. Delilah ate like it was her first meal, little moans escaping.
‘My God, fried food. I’ve missed you so much.’
Cassie watched her with a smile. ‘I’m convinced this place stays in business catering to the lowered gastronomic standards of tennis players.’
Delilah chuckled as she chewed. She looked around as she swallowed. ‘You been here before?’ she asked.
‘When I was training at Larchfield, I came here.’
Delilah grinned. ‘You broke your training diet?’
Cassie shrugged, smiled, looked away. ‘On occasion. When I was feeling naughty.’
‘Cassie Thorne has a naughty side,’ Delilah said, putting her fork into a chip. ‘Good to know.’
Cassie’s brain was having trouble forming full sentences at that. But she could tell it was her turn to say something. ‘So…’ she began, hoping for her brain to kick back in. It didn’t.
‘So?’ Delilah asked.
Cassie decided to be honest. ‘I don’t know exactly how to talk right now.’
Delilah gave a surprised laugh. ‘OK. Well, we could ask each other about our jobs? That’s pretty standard date fare.’
Cassie decided not to get hung up on Delilah using the word ‘date’. If she did that, she really was just gonna sit here mute. She had to push on. ‘Yes, that’s good, thanks. So, tell me how you got into acting?’
Delilah looked amused but answered without mocking Cassie’s shut down, which Cassie truly appreciated.
‘When I was nine, I was in the school play. I had three lines, and I forgot one of them. My teacher was in the wings, mouthing it at me, and everyone laughed at me. But the funny thing is, I didn’t even care. I was still the happiest I’d ever been, up there on that stage, pretending to be someone else. I humiliated myself, and I couldn’t wait to do it again. After that, there wasn’t really any coming back.’
Cassie smiled. ‘That’s a good answer.’
‘Glad you like it. Your turn,’ Delilah said. ‘How did you get into tennis?’
Delilah took a big bite of the burger and nodded.
Cassie set her glass down, considering. ‘My dad was a big fan of tennis but couldn’t play. So he used to drag me to the courts every Saturday in the hopes of turning me into Bjorn Borg. I actually hated it at first, and I used to beg my dad to let me stop all the time. But then I won a match against this older girl, and I still remember how good that felt. After that, I was hooked. It was the only thing I wanted to do.’
Delilah raised her eyebrows. ‘So, you humiliated someone and loved it. And I humiliated myself and loved it.’
Cassie had to laugh at that.
‘Was your dad proud of your success?’ Delilah asked.
‘He died just as I was climbing the ranks, but I think he was.’
‘I’m sorry.’
Cassie shrugged. She never liked dwelling on it, but Delilah’s voice was gentle enough that it didn’t feel like pity. Still, she didn’t want to dwell.
‘What are your parents like?’ Cassie questioned.
‘Oh, well, they’re both accountants, so you can imagine how they feel about my career choice.’
‘I see.’
‘Yep. I think they wanted me to do that too, but I barely know what two plus two is, so it was never on the cards.’
‘It’s four. In case you need to know,’ Cassie told her.
Delilah sighed dramatically. ‘The mystery is solved!’
The way Delilah talked was mesmerising to Cassie. She talked with her whole body, her face animated, her eyes soft when she listened. Cassie could have watched it forever.
Fifty-Five
Delilah watched Cassie study the dessert menu.
They’d been tossing glances and little sparks back and forth all evening, but maybe she’d been playing it too safe. Did Cassie even realise how much Delilah wanted her? That all she wanted was to drag her out of here, press her up against the nearest wall, and end this guessing game. Cassie seemed calm as you like, while Delilah was hanging by a thread.
Maybe it was too much. She needed to slow down. It wasn’t a race. She’d waited this long. No point in blowing it by lunging too fast.
Delilah forced a slow breath, fingers tightening around the stem of her glass. She told herself to match Cassie’s calm, to let things unfold at their own pace.
What happened next would be telling. If Cassie wanted dessert, she was in no rush. If she wanted to skip it, Delilah knew it was on.
‘You want to split…’ Cassie began.
Delilah stopped breathing.
‘…a sticky toffee pudding?’ Cassie finished.
Delilah nodded, trying not to read Cassie’s sweet tooth as a sign that Cassie had realised, as the evening progressed, that she didn’t really fancy Delilah. ‘Sure.’
They ordered the pud, and when it arrived, it was a mess of golden syrup and steam. Cassie took the first bite and let out a quiet, involuntary sound of appreciation that made Delilah wonder if it was a preview.
Jesus, she was horny. Or was it just Cassie doing this to her? Maybe she was just starved, maybe it was nothing more than months of frustration catching up to her… but no. It was Cassie. It had to be Cassie.
Tough on the outside, quick with her dry comebacks, yet underneath it all so disarmingly kind. That long black braid trailing down her back, that lean, honed body shaped by years of discipline. Delilah wanted her because she was strong and soft at once. It was easy to see that now she was maybe allowed to.
‘You’re going to ruin me,’ Delilah muttered, reaching for a spoon.
Cassie grinned. ‘I doubt that.’
‘Other than the occasional Jelly Baby, I’ve been sticking to the lodge menu. I think it’s helped with my fitness.’
‘You’re in excellent shape. You can afford a pudding.’
Delilah gave her a sidelong glance. ‘That a professional opinion?’
Cassie hesitated, suddenly flustered. ‘You look great. Not that I was… looking. Well. Obviously, I was looking. But not in a weird way.’
She trailed off, and Delilah, stunned, watched a blush rise to her cheeks.
God, Delilah thought. She’s nervous. All is not lost.
Delilah dipped her spoon into the pudding and took a bite, letting the syrup coat her tongue. She looked at Cassie, deliberately, and said, ‘So you’ve been looking.’
Cassie opened her mouth, then closed it again.
Delilah smiled, slow and deliberate. ‘I don’t mind.’
Cassie didn’t speak, but her smile said everything.
Delilah went in for another bite and nudged the bowl a little closer to Cassie, her voice low as she said, ‘But if I’m slow on the court tomorrow, I’m blaming you.’
Cassie’s eyes were still on her. ‘That seems fair.’
And maybe it was the sugar, or the pub’s low golden lighting, or the faint brush of Cassie’s knee under the table. But Delilah found herself hoping the night wasn’t over yet.
Fifty-Six
Cassie told herself to breathe.
It was ridiculous, really. She’d held her nerve in tie-breaks with the whole crowd riding on her serve. But Delilah took one bite of pudding and looked at her like that, and Cassie’s brain left the building.
She had this lightness to her, a way of laughing that made everything feel less serious, even the things that usually tied Cassie in knots. She was sharp, quick, and fun, didn’t take herself seriously, but she looked at Cassie like she was the only person in the room who mattered. Every tilt of her head, every teasing smile made Cassie’s pulse jump. It was ridiculous, it was thrilling, and it made Cassie feel like she didn’t know how long she could continue being a functioning participant of this date.
She focused on the dessert, spooning up another mouthful without really tasting it. Her knee brushed Delilah’s, just lightly, but Delilah didn’t move away.
