Chapter 47
Forty-Seven
Cassie was different in the morning.
Not rude, not cold exactly, just… clipped. Professional. Like the softness from the day before had been some kind of glitch in the system, and Cassie had rebooted overnight.
Of course, they did not discuss their moment. Cassie was pretending it hadn’t happened, and Delilah knew better than to call her on it. If Cassie was writing over it all, there wasn’t a thing Delilah could do about that.
But she was allowed to think about it. Cassie couldn’t stop that.
The solid weight of Cassie against her side, the faint tremor in her shoulders that slowed once she leaned in, the warmth of her breath at Delilah’s temple.
For a heartbeat, Cassie had trusted her body to rest there, and Delilah had held her as carefully as she knew how, terrified of breaking the spell.
It hadn’t lasted long. But it had been real.
And now, with Cassie sitting across the table as though none of it had ever happened, Delilah held onto that memory, the only proof she hadn’t dreamed it.
Cassie cleared her throat, gaze fixed on her mug. ‘Serve again today. Focus on getting your toss consistent. Too many are short.’
Delilah nodded, fiddling nervously with the yoghurt lid. ‘Right… um… maybe my footwork? I keep… crossing over the wrong way.’
‘Mm.’ Cassie sipped her coffee, expression unreadable. ‘Ladder drills would help that.’
Around them, other players murmured over cereal and toast. Petra breezed in behind them like she owned the place, her eyes brushing over Cassie before she moved on to berate a Canadian junior by the coffee machine.
Cassie didn’t react. Not outwardly. But Delilah saw the tiny lock of her jaw.
‘She’s not worth your time,’ Delilah told her.
For a second, Cassie froze. Then her mouth parted, as if she was going to say something.
But then it snapped shut. Cassie rose, coffee in hand. ‘We’re on court in twenty. Don’t be late.’
And that was it.
Delilah watched her go. She didn’t want to push, but she hated the way last night was being erased, like it had never happened.
She wasn’t na?ve. She didn’t mistake closeness for romance. But there’d been a moment…
But fine. Delilah could wear masks, too. It was actually her job. She just never thought she’d need one with Cassie.
***
Delilah had beaten the dinner rush today, and the dining hall was quiet. She ate slowly, trying not to look like she was brooding.
Cassie had begged off a little early with a vague excuse about ‘something I need to attend to,’ which Delilah had pretended to accept without question. But her stomach was tight, and it wasn’t the food. She was starting to get the feeling that Cassie was putting distance between them.
She was halfway through a piece of shockingly unseasoned grilled chicken when someone slid into the seat across from her brusquely. She didn’t have to look up to know who it was, but she did.
‘Hi.’
Delilah smiled politely. ‘Hello.’ She glanced around. The woman could have sat anywhere. This was a thing.
Petra had a glass of something green in front of her. She didn’t touch it. Her eyes stayed on Delilah like she was trying to read small print on her forehead.
‘How’s the training going?’
Delilah wiped her mouth with a napkin. ‘Good. You know. Pushing through.’
‘That forehand’s a mess,’ Petra said bluntly. ‘Watched you yesterday. You’re all over the place.’
Delilah laughed awkwardly, trying not to look as shaken as she felt. ‘Yeah… well. It’s a work in progress.’
‘Interesting mechanics,’ Petra said, eyebrows raised. ‘Definitely not standard.’
Delilah nodded slowly. ‘I guess so.’
Petra tilted her head. ‘Cass is being quiet about you. Very quiet.’
Delilah licked her lips nervously. ‘Yeah?’
‘Where did you play before this?’
Delilah sipped water, buying herself a moment. ‘Here and there,’ she said finally, trying to keep her voice casual.
Petra’s mouth slipped up at one side. ‘Here and there?’
‘Yeah,’ Delilah said quickly, trying not to fidget. ‘Here at the moment. There before. You know.’
Petra leaned back, eyes sharp. ‘Look, you’re clearly not here to compete. You move like someone learning it from the ground up.’
Delilah laughed, brittle. ‘Guess I’m rustier than I thought.’
Petra stirred her drink with the tip of a straw, unimpressed. ‘Right. So, while I’ve got you, I need you to sign a waiver.’
‘Oh?’ Delilah asked. Now she was seriously nervous.
Petra pulled out a scrap of paper, as though from her actual arse, along with a pen. ‘Name, date and sign. It covers us for liability. Cassie signed one, but we didn’t do yours. Remiss of me.’
Delilah cleared her throat. ‘Ummm….’
‘I’ll need it now, or we can’t continue service,’ Petra added.
Right, so it was sign it or bugger off. Delilah took the pen and filled in the sheet.
Petra took the paper and pen back. ‘Thanks… Delilah Day?’ Petra flashed her teeth and walked off, leaving her untouched drink behind.
Delilah was left disquieted. The way Petra had said her name, Delilah knew Cassie had not told Petra it to her before. Why not? And why did she want it so badly?
This couldn’t be good.