Page 33 of Courting Trouble
Cassie fed the first ball. Delilah misread it by a foot and stumbled sideways.
‘Sorry!’ she called, recovering clumsily. ‘I wasn’t ready.’
Cassie picked up another ball. ‘You were in position.’
‘Yeah, but mentally—’
‘Your body doesn’t care where your mind is,’ Cassie snapped. Then winced internally. That was too much. She softened her tone. ‘Again.’
The next feed was slower. Delilah connected, just barely, but her balance was all wrong, and the return skidded off her frame and into the fence.
‘Split earlier,’ Cassie called.
Delilah scowled. ‘Iamsplitting.’ She paused. ‘What’s splitting again?’
‘I’ve told you at least six times. Why isn’t it sticking?’
Delilah planted her hands on her hips.
‘You’re being personal,’ she said.
Cassie felt heat rise behind her ears. ‘I’m not.’
‘You are.’
Cassie opened her mouth and then closed it. She didn’t have the vocabulary for this moment. What was she supposed to say?I guess I’m overcompensating because I had an epic bean flick about you last night in the shower. Sorry about that.
Cassie swallowed. ‘I’m not here to be your buddy, Delilah. You want to be Tamsin Rowe? She didn’t pull this face every time a ball caught her off guard. She was ruthless. You’re flinching like the ball’s a bloody pit bull.’
Delilah stared at her.
‘OK,’ she said, voice low. ‘You know what? I’m going to go do footwork drills on my own.’
She turned, marched to the far end of the court, and started doing exaggerated side-shuffles.
Cassie let out a breath as she pinched the bridge of her nose. She sat down on the bench at the side of the court and stared at the ground. This was getting out of hand. This was exactly why professional boundaries existed. And she should know. She’d seen it from the other side. It stopped working when it got personal.
She was going to get a hold of herself. She wasnotgoing to think about her hand in the shower. She wasnotgoing to think about the way Delilah’s bum looked when she was serving. She wasnotgoing to think about the hug. She wasnotgoing to think about Delilah’s smell.
She was going to behave like a fucking coach.
Thirty-Five
Why was Cassie behaving like this? Did sheknow? She couldn’t. Could she?
Delilah shoved herself through another set of side-shuffles, feet burning, dignity in tatters.
However you sliced it, Cassie seemed to be mad at her. Was it because Cassie had sensed the crush forming, had seen a look in Delilah’s eye that gave the game away? Were her eyeballs betraying her? No wonder Cassie was trying to back away. She was uncomfortable.
‘Jesus Christ,’ she muttered, angry at herself.
‘What?’ Cassie asked from across the court.
Delilah had thought her self-admonishment had been beyond the range of Cassie’s ears, but apparently, her ears were as strong as those arms.
‘I need a break,’ Delilah said quickly, which was true. She couldn’t count the ways in which she meant that. ‘I’m knackered.’
‘You just started.’
