Page 12 of Unstoppable You (Sapph in the City #6)
Chapter Twelve
James
My clients the following week were incredible. Not only did I have a polyamorous triad who was welcoming twins, I had a single mom who had decided to have a child on her own. I always put my utmost care into my work, but I made sure that I did everything possible for them. It helped to scour away the negative comments that I received constantly on social media. About my job being fake, and a scam, and criticizing everything about me from my eyebrows to the tone of my voice. I did my best not to read too much of it, but I did have to do moderation on my pages to make sure that nothing truly bad was going on.
I wish I could have hired someone to manage all of that, but then I’d be paying someone to potentially expose themselves to internet hatred and I just couldn’t go through with it.
You had to take the good with the bad. That was life.
In my spare moments, I found myself pulling up Delaney’s account and scrolling embarrassingly far down. I’d actually reached the bottom of her socials a few times and I didn’t want to think about what that said about me and my obsession.
Since book club, my crush hadn’t abated or decreased in intensity. It had set up a sweet little home in my chest and had started decorating. Any moment now it was going to start expanding and taking over more real estate.
The shy little crush of my youth had grown to a raging inferno that threatened to consume me. I’d let it, of course.
I considered going to the bookstore again, but that would be too desperate, even for me. Stalking her online was much safer.
I didn’t count on bumping into her completely by accident, but it happened the following Saturday afternoon when I’d gone to the grocery store to grab a few things.
One minute I was comparing avocados for ripeness and the next I was looking into a pair of golden-brown eyes that made my heart completely stop for a second in shock.
“Delaney.” Her name slipped out of my mouth without me making the decision to speak.
My name was an annoyed sigh from her. “James.”
“What are you doing here?”
She raised her eyebrows and selected a few limes, putting them into a crocheted produce bag. Right. Groceries. She was getting groceries. Same as me.
My face flamed with a blush that I knew she caught.
“I’m having a girl’s night,” she announced and then I was the one raising my eyebrows.
“With Larison. And her girlfriend Jo. We rented a cottage by the beach.”
“Sounds nice,” I said, unsure of where the hell this conversation was going. I kept picking up avocados and squeezing them lightly.
“I’m—” she started to say and then pressed her lips together. “Never mind.” Delaney glanced down at her phone. “I need to get going. Larison and Jo are waiting.” So why was she still standing here with me?
“Have a good time?” I said, and it definitely sounded like a question.
“You too,” she said and then winced. “I mean, have a good time doing whatever you’re doing too.”
“I knew what you meant.” Now who was flustered? Fuck, she was cute.
Delaney grabbed another lime and then tossed the produce bag into her cart.
“Have a margarita for me,” I said, nodding at the bottle of mix and tequila.
“Maybe I will,” she said, smirking just a little and if I didn’t know better, I would have said she was almost flirting with me. Almost.
But I was just looking at the world through lesbian lenses and she was absolutely not flirting with me.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” I found myself saying, incapable of not throwing a flirt right in her face.
I had to get myself together. I couldn’t behave when I was around her.
She opened her mouth, probably to make a pointed comment about something I had done to her, but then she closed it again.
A beat of silence passed between us before she seemed to shake herself a little and then gripped the handle of the cart.
“Bye, James,” she mumbled, practically running me over in her hurry to get away.
“Bye Delaney,” I said, but she was already out of there.
Huh.
* * *
My weekend probably wasn’t as exciting as hers. I would have loved to have a girl’s weekend. When the hell had I last done anything like that?
Deciding to take a chance, I reached out to Lea and asked her what she was up to on Saturday evening. PMS was absolutely kicking my ass, so I wasn’t up to heading to Sapph tonight, which pissed me off. Instead I was camped out on the couch in my oldest and coziest pajamas with a heating pad on my junk, painkillers and chocolate within reach, and one of my favorite romcoms on my TV. I’d been alternating watching movies and reading a super filthy romance. Both were helping me feel better.
Not much. I’m pretty boring, lol. I taught two classes today so I came home and hopped into a bath before doing my best slug imitation on the couch.
Perfect. We were kindred lounging spirits. That’s what I’m doing, minus the exercising. Is it as exhausting teaching as it is taking the class?
It can be. It’s more mental than physical, since most of the time I’m not doing all the exercises myself.
We quickly fell into a lively back and forth, going from talking work to our favorite dishes at local restaurants to movies and back to our favorite work drama.
I don’t care how much you pay me, I’m not doing nude Pilates. I draw the line!
I read her message after the story about almost signing up to teach a nude Pilates class at a random resort and had tears running down my face.
I don’t even know how you’d be able to focus enough to teach. And what about the equipment?! I sent.
I try not to think too hard about it. Sometimes I wonder if they ever found someone. Wasn’t going to be me!
It was nice to talk to a friend again, even if we had just met each other. There was something about Lea that just made me smile and want to keep talking to her. The two of us went back and forth until she told me she was falling asleep and needed to go to bed.
In spite of my uterus trying to ruin my life, it hadn’t been a terrible day. I’d even had one Delaney sighting where she hadn’t yelled or brought up the past. That had to be progress.
Getting her to tolerate my presence was the goal and we were getting there. Slowly.
* * *
On Sunday I slept in and had to force myself to get up and do what I needed to get done before the start of the week. Laundry, vacuuming, emptying the dishwasher, dusting my books, changing the sheets. I put on an audiobook and got down to business after I had a random breakfast of frozen waffles slathered in Nutella, with bacon, tater tots, and Greek yogurt with honey. And then I ate two cheese sticks straight from the fridge. My hormones were making me ravenous.
I checked Delaney’s socials to see what she was up to and was treated to several videos and pictures of her with her friends looking like they were having the time of their lives. Drinks and laughter and cuddling together, and there was a still picture of what looked like a blurry beach at night with the caption “when you’ve never been skinny-dipping, your besties go with you as emotional support towel holders.”
Oh. Oh .
Delaney had gone skinny-dipping in the ocean, I assumed from the picture and the caption. That was…that was quite the image to put in my mind. A fantasy, if you will. When I’d been growing up, I’d been so confused and scared of my feelings around other girls that I’d done everything I could to not look. To keep my eyes to myself. To wait and change when no one was looking and to make sure my eyes weren’t wandering. Locker rooms were absolute hell for me, and I’d done my best to get through it by distracting myself. Sometimes those distractions involved being unkind. It was like my own awful feelings spewed out of my mouth and splashed on everyone else. There was no excuse for it, but I understood it better now. Why I’d done something that was so out of line with what I truly felt.
I was proud of Delaney for reclaiming herself. A person like Connor had a way of consuming all your time and energy and sucking you dry. Taking up all the air in the room so he could hoard it while you were gasping. And then he’d be all shocked when you got angry you couldn’t breathe. And that was somehow your problem to solve.
My fucking brother. He hadn’t been in touch for the last few days, which was nice. I had no doubt that the next time he pissed one of his friends off or “forgot” to pay his rent, or crashed another car, or got into more debt, that he would be blowing up my phone to help him. It was coming. Sooner rather than later probably.
God, she was amazing. Taking her breakup and channeling it into doing what she wanted.
Images of her submerging herself in the moonlit ocean like a mermaid swam through my thoughts and it was hard not to spend my entire day replaying that particular fantasy on a loop.
How cold had the water been? Pretty chilly, I was guessing. Had she screamed when she’d gone in? Had she dived under the water?
So many questions with no answers that I was ever going to get.
Before I could stop myself, I was liking one of her posts. I managed to not leave a comment, which would have been way too much. But a few minutes after I’d liked her post, I had a new message. From Delaney.