Page 75 of Courting Trouble
She felt ready to let herself simply enjoy Cassie. Not the coaching, not the tennis, not the victory, justCassie. Sitting across from her, laughing softly, being that extraordinary blend of tough and tender that only she was.
This could be love,Delilah thought, unsurprised.
She’d been single for a while. Years, in fact. The last relationship she’d attempted had been with another actress, Emma. They’d met on a shoot. It had lasted exactly three weeks. Not three months, not three years. Three weeks.
Delilah remembered how it had begun: coffee, compliments, shared jokes on set, the kind of effortless chemistry that made her think,This has to be it.
Week two had been a whirlwind of manufactured crises: arguments over imaginary slights, whispered “secrets” meant to provoke jealousy, and late-night phone calls that ended with tears or shouts over things that hadn’t even happened. Everything was a performance, and Emma was addicted to the chaos. Delilah had tried to keep up, tried to keep it calm, but the energy was exhausting, relentless.
By week three, Delilah had learned two things: she was good at spotting when drama was staged in real life, and she was terrible at keeping up with it. The relationship ended quietly, with Emma storming off in a cloud of fury because Delilah hadn’t responded “correctly” to a minor misunderstanding she’d invented. Three weeks, all-consuming drama, and not a single calm moment.
Emma was famous now, in an American procedural. Delilah would occasionally see the show pop up on a streaming service. She’d click the thumbs-down review button and move on.
And now,Delilah thought, sipping her soda,Here I am. With Cassie.It was night and day. She was so much more genuine than Emma could have dreamed of being. That was what Delilah was drawn to. Though she could be stoic, there was nothing fake about her. She was the real deal.
Then Delilah realised something she didn’t like. In a few days, they’d have no reason to be around each other anymore. And they hadn’t talked about what would happen then. Whether Cassie would want this to keep going. Whether she took it seriously. Delilah knew Cassie was a serious person and didn’tdo anything lightly. But she’d have been a fool to assume she could read Cassie’s mind.
Delilah, despite her current confidence, didn’t want to jump into that conversation. Firstly, she didn’t know what the answer would be. Secondly, she loved how it was now. Chemistry. Unbelievable sex. Unlimited possibilities.
Cassie Thorne. There was still so much to know about her. And Delilah wanted the chance to know it.
Seventy-Four
Cassie’s fingers curled around her bottle, feeling the cold glass press against her palm. Delilah was riding a high that she deserved to feel. Cassie was proud of her.
She studied Delilah as she sipped her soda: the dark, twinkly eyes and that sassy mouth she’d probably get to kiss later, which was a sexy miracle. She wanted to focus on that—on everything that had seemed impossible but happened anyway. But her mind kept skipping ahead, to when training ended, to the moment Delilah might simply walk away and leave her with nothing but memories.
Delilah’s voice abruptly cut through her anxieties. ‘I’ve been watching her—Tamsin Rowe—every match available, every interview. But… you grew up with it, didn’t you? What’s that like? To grow up playing tennis, watchingher?’
‘What would that tell you about playing her?’
Delilah shrugged. ‘Most likely? Nothing.’
‘Then why ask it?’ Cassie pressed.
‘I guess I just want to know,’ Delilah said.
‘About her?’
‘No,’ Cassie said. ‘You.’
Cassie blinked at her, caught off guard by the intensity behind that simple answer.
She didn’t know if she should admit something here, something she’d never said to Delilah. But she’d been asked. She wasn’t going to lie. ‘I idolised her.’
Delilah’s eyes widened slightly, a mix of awe and surprise. ‘You did. You never said.’
‘I didn’t think it mattered,’ Cassie said, glancing down at the table.
Delilah laughed. ‘Wow.’
‘It wasn’t important in what we were trying to do.’
‘You don’t think?’
‘I wanted to make you into a confident tennis player. You really think knowing how much I looked up to Tamsin would have helped?’
Delilah considered. ‘I take your point. But you’re telling me now.’
