Chapter Eighty-Five
Eighty-
Five
Delilah could see from Cassie’s expression that she wasn’t tracking a single thing.
‘Do you?’ Delilah asked anyway, her mouth moving faster than her brain.
Cassie blinked at her. ‘Why the fuck would I have a banana?’
‘Because you always have a banana,’ Delilah insisted, even as the words sounded insane to her own ears.
Cassie narrowed her eyes. ‘Have you lost your mind?’
‘I guess you wouldn’t have anywhere to keep it,’ Delilah muttered to herself.
Cassie laughed nervously. ‘Yep. You’ve lost it.’
Panic pressed in on Delilah. She couldn’t stop now, not with everything at stake.
Somehow, this made the fight for her entire life, her career, her break, her tennis skills, seem smaller.
Simple, even. She wanted the role, she worked for the role, she was good enough for the role, she deserved the role, she got the role. Why was that obvious now?
Because the woman in front of her had believed in her. And that had allowed Delilah to find that glimmer of belief in herself. And now Delilah had to find a way to deserve her. She was willing to do whatever it took, however crazy.
Her gaze snagged on the darkened clubhouse, and the stupidest idea imaginable lodged in her head. ‘Is there one in there?’ she asked.
Cassie just stared, baffled. And Delilah, reckless and desperate, bolted before she could think better of it.
The front doors rattled, locked. Fine. She darted around the side, spotted a narrow window propped open above the bins. One shove, one graceless scramble, and she was inside, crashing to the floor in a tangle of limbs and curses. Her ribs hurt, but she was up again in a second, eyes scanning.
There it was: the vending machine. Row five.
Bananas wrapped in plastic. She dug through the tip jar on the counter—vowing to replace what she took times five later— and jammed coins in the machine, snatching the fruit before it dropped.
Her hands shook as she wrestled the wrapper open, clambered back out through the window, and stumbled into the night.
Cassie was still out there, jaw practically on the ground. ‘You just committed B and E for that?’
Delilah raised the banana like a trophy. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. I committed B and E for romance.’
Delilah peeled it, forcing ceremony into her movements, then bit down. Sweet, mealy mush filled her mouth. She gagged, but chewed. Cassie looked on, half-horrified, half-fascinated.
Delilah forced the words out around the gluey bite. ‘I’m… nn… lug… wi… you.’
‘What?’ Cassie asked.
Delilah swallowed a bit to make room for words that exploded from her. ‘I’m in love with you!’
Cassie froze. ‘That’s not true.’
Delilah swallowed hard, throat burning. ‘It is. And I know it’s not exactly roses and violins, but I wouldn’t eat a banana for anyone else.’ She grimaced, choking down the last of it. ‘God, how do people eat those things?’
Cassie stared at her, disbelief warring with something softer. ‘But you said…’
‘I was telling Ashley to shut up, that I didn’t have time for the conversation. I wasn’t talking about you. I would never have said that about you.’
Cassie looked utterly thrown. ‘So I just… misheard?’
Delilah edged closer, voice steadier now. ‘Yes, you fool. I love you, Cassie. I want to be with you.’
‘You really wouldn’t eat a banana for anyone else, would you?’ Cassie said, almost to herself. Her next words were almost a whisper. ‘I love you too.’
Relief cracked Delilah wide open. She closed the distance, pressed her mouth to Cassie’s, and kissed her hard and certain. Cassie clutched her back like she’d been drowning and had finally surfaced. The world fell away: no clubs, no absurd fruit, no directors, no tennis. Just them.
When they broke apart, Cassie’s eyes were dazed. ‘You taste like banana.’
Delilah laughed, giddy. ‘Worth it.’