Page 31 of Courting Trouble
Delilah shook herself. ‘Oh, no, I… Yeah, sorry. Sorry,’
They practised for another half-hour. Delilah pushed herself harder than usual, maybe to drown out the confusion in her head. By the end, she was a sweaty, tired mess.
‘That’s time,’ Cassie said.
They were walking back to the bench when Delilah’s phone rang in her bag, an unknown number. She hesitated, then picked up. ‘Hello?’
‘Delilah. Hi. It’s James Rourke.’
Oh Christ, the director.
‘I just got off the phone with Rena Rowe,’ he said. ‘She’s agreed to reinstate the rights. I don’t know what you said to her, but… you saved the movie.’
Delilah blinked. ‘Seriously?’
‘Seriously. She wants a few script adjustments, but she’s on board. The studio’s ecstatic. And so am I. Thank you.’
‘No, thank you for the part.’
‘Can’t say you haven’t earned it!’ he said with a laugh. ‘Well, see you on set!’
They hung up. Delilah stared at the screen. Then at Cassie watching with absolutely no chill.
‘Well?!’ Cassie demanded.
Delilah could see that she cared. She’d done this because she cared.
Delilah launched forward, throwing her arms around Cassie before her brain could stop her. ‘You saved the movie!’
Cassie was caught completely off guard, but her arms came around Delilah after a beat. The hug was meant to bequick, celebratory, but something in it lingered. Cassie was so warm and solid…
Then they pulled apart. Too fast.
‘Right,’ Cassie said, rubbing the back of her neck. ‘Well. That’s… good.’
‘Yeah,’ Delilah said, not looking at her. ‘It’s great.’
The silence stretched, a little awkward now.
Delilah cleared her throat and reached for her water bottle. Cassie looked out over the court, squinting at the sun. Neither of them said anything else.
Thirty-Two
The shower should’ve been the reset. That was the point. Steam rising, sweat rinsing down the drain, the ache in her muscles easing under the heat. She stood under the stream longer than necessary, letting the water beat against her collarbone, her shoulders, the nape of her neck.
But the thoughts didn’t wash away with everything else.
Delilah’s arms around her. The smell of her. Sweat and sunblock and something underneath that Cassie couldn’t identify. Something sweet.
She closed her eyes. Pressed her forehead to the tile. Stupid. It had been a thank-you hug. That was all. She’d helped, and Delilah was grateful. It didn’t mean anything.
Cassie reached for the soap, then changed her mind. Her hand drifted lower. She tried not to picture anything.
As she crept closer to the peak of it, the lie fell away. Her mind was full of Delilah. The arch of her back in clumsy mid-swing. The sound she made when she missed a shot. Her face when the phone call came. And the hug.
When it was over, Cassie stood there in the steam, braced against the tiles. What the hell was she doing?
Delilah was a client, and Cassie had rules.Boundaries. A very good, very long-standing sense of self-control.
