7. Delilah

Chapter 7

Delilah

" I t was awful, Aurelia, I was just lying on this piece of foam, arms splayed out, legs kicking helplessly and don't even get me started on how I got on the stupid piece of foam in the first place."

My sister's laugh crackles down the phone.

"Stop laughing! It wasn't bloody funny! I bet I looked ridiculous, Christ—"

Aurelia giggles again. "Why do you even care if you looked ridiculous?"

"Because…" I pause.

Shit.

I can't lie, Aurelia will hear it in my voice, and I can't deflect away from the conversation, because she'll just fucking read through it, so I have no choice but to stay quiet, waiting for the penny to drop.

Aurelia's breathing is audible over the line, but she doesn't say another word.

"Aurelia…" I mutter when I can't take the deafening silence any longer. "Look—"

"You like him."

"I… Aurelia—"

"You fucking like him!"

"I don't like him!" I retort, tugging at my earlobe while staring into the quickly dispersing bubbles in my bath water. I thought it would help relax my tense muscles after today's swimming lesson, but the water turned tepid a long while ago and I'm yet to feel relaxed. "I mean, I do like him as a person! But I-I don't know, Aurelia, I hardly know a thing about him and yet—"

"You're attracted to him, then?"

My lips seem to seal themselves shut.

"Yes or no, Delilah," she states all business. God, she sounds like me. "Are. You. Attracted to Grey?"

"Yes…"

The squeal my little sister emits doesn't even sound humane.

"I knew it, I knew it, I knew it! Has he asked you out?! Are you going to say yes?! Does—"

My sigh ricochets off the bathroom walls. "You know I don't date, Aura."

"But—"

"And I don't do relationships, either."

"Yes, I know, but Grey—"

"But, Grey, nothing, Aurelia. Yes, I like him and yes, I'm attracted to him, but I highly doubt that means anything will happen. Now, can't we just leave it? I've been attracted to men in bars before and it's never progressed into anything. Not every meeting means an emotional connection, Aura. So, I just need something to take my mind off Grey. A-a distraction of sorts from him so he can go back to being my swim teacher and nothing more."

"Leave it with me, then. I'll find us a distraction or two."

Three hours later as I climb into bed, freshly moisturised from head to toe, a set of heatless rollers in my hair and a cup of my nightly chamomile tea already brewed and waiting to be drunk, my phone chimes obnoxiously.

Sister 3 – girls night out on Saturday?

Perfect.

B y the time the working week comes to an end, and Saturday night rolls around, I've primped, prepped and primed practically every inch of my body.

With a towel wrapped around me, and my bedside clock steadily ticking away, I sit on the edge of my bed, staring into the contents of my flung open wardrobe.

It should be easy to find an outfit to wear for Aurelia and I's well deserved girls' night out, seeing as how my clothes are colour coordinated in my wardrobe and then sorted by outfit type and wearability – but nothing seems to catch my eye.

I twirl a ringlet of my hair between my fingers, twisting and tugging, as I stand, running my free hand through the myriad of fabrics hanging neatly from the rack.

Formal dress, another formal dress, three summer dresses…

The tips of my fingers slip against black satin, hidden behind the folds of another, much brighter, skirt.

I untangle the velvet hanger, pulling the silk, featherlight material of the dress out into the open.

Glossy black, ankle length, low back and cut right down to my tummy button, two thick panels in the front cover the most important parts but leaving more than a hint of cleavage on show.

My favourite part, however, is the collar stitched into the dress, which looks like it should rest just at the base of my throat.

An excited flip in my stomach, I lay the dress carefully over my bed, quickly pouring myself a measure of bubbly prosecco in the kitchen before I start my makeup.

I keep my base makeup fairly lightweight, with an extra flutter to my lashes and a swipe of pink gloss. Gloss stains the rim of my champagne flute as I move onto my hair, styling it to cascade down my back.

With a dollop of alcohol in my system, time seems to pick up speed with even more vigour. I've barely wiggled my arse into the dress, slipped into my black heels with their signature red bottoms and spritzed my perfume for the evening, when my phone signals my taxi is downstairs.

The car journey to Aurelia's flat is pretty mundane. I chat politely to the driver, all the while staring outside the backseat window watching the city of London, draped in twinkling amber city lights. Five years living in the capital city, and still I'm blown away by its beauty – the living, breathing heartbeat embedded under the smog.

"You wouldn't mind waiting, would you?" I ask the driver, one heeled foot already out on the pavement below Aurelia's flat. Getting another taxi at this time in the night on a Saturday would be practically impossible.

"No' a bother, lass," comes the reply in his thick Scottish brogue.

As quick as my dress will allow, I make my way up to my sister's flat on the second floor of her building, knocking loudly to make sure she can hear me over the thumping music coming from behind her door.

"Aurelia! Aurelia, the taxi is waiting outside! Hurry—"

A blonde girl, who is definitely not my sister, opens the door, standing in front of me with two mascara tear tracks upon her cheeks.

"Are you—"

"Delilah!" Aurelia opens her front door further, dressed in a beautiful skin-tight red dress. It's pretty similar to one I used to own myself, actually.

"The taxi is waiting outside," I repeat, repositioning my grip on my clutch. "Are you ready so we can get going—"

"Yep. Just give me a second to lock up."

I watch as Aurelia locks up, tucks the keys into her own handbag and then takes my hand. "Let's go!"

The blonde trails behind us.

"Um… Aurelia?" I cut my eyes to my sister and then back to her friend, who's swiping at her under eyes with the pad of her thumb.

"Come on, Soph," Aurelia croons, whipping out a tissue. "He's not worth it!"

She lowers her tone, so I'm the only one who can hear, as we cross her lobby, the loud click clack of our heels echoing behind us. "Sophie caught her boyfriend cheating on her this morning. Dickhead move. Anyway, I thought she needed cheering up and since we're out looking for distractions ourselves… You don't mind, do you?"

Once outside, I hold the car door to the taxi open, allowing Sophie to scoot in first. She's still teary, bless her, and looks like she wants to be anywhere but here. But she returns my smile, even if it is a little watery, before staring back down at the hem of the short, cocktail dress I'm sure my sister persuaded her to wear.

"Of course, it's fine, Aura, I don't mind."

Aurelia squeezes my upper arm in silent thanks, taking a hold of the door so I can slide inside the taxi.

"You look gorgeous," Sophie whispers thickly, once we're all safely strapped in and heading towards one of my favourite upscale bars.

I give the rogue tear escaping out of the corner of her eye a wipe. "So do you. Don't cry over him, okay?"

Sophie nods jerkily, bowing her head to hide the run of her nose.

"You look beautiful too, Aura."

My sister sends me a cheeky grin, all pearly white teeth. "Thanks! Don't you love my dress?! I stole it from your wardrobe a couple weeks back."

M y shoulders drop as soon as we step out of the taxi, queuing in line for the bouncers at the door to check Aurelia's ID. It doesn't matter that she's twenty-three, she still doesn't look a day over eighteen, which means she'll probably be ID'd no less than three times tonight.

I inhale the balmy summer air, not realising how wound up and tight I've been this past week. My mind has felt jumbled with thoughts, stuffed full, until I've simply been going through the motions of my daily routine on autopilot.

But now I feel like I can breathe again.

Whatever happens tonight, whether it be something or nothing, I'm determined to have a good time with my girls, plus a few cocktails.

With Aurelia's ID checked and vetted, we ascend the steps leading into the nineteen twenties inspired speakeasy bar. It's a Saturday night so I'm not surprised to find it pretty packed, bodies crammed into every available space – bar, stool and booth – until the mahogany decor of the bar is difficult to even notice.

"There's a couple leaving their booth at the back," Sophie says, looking above the crowd, taller than both Aurelia and I in our heels.

"Go grab it and I'll get the first round," I instruct, splitting away to catch the attention of one of the bartenders and order our drinks.

One of the male bartenders quirks his eyebrow upon seeing me, already twirling the stem of a cocktail glass around his fingers, while his eyes bounce from my face to my chest. "What can I get you tonight, darlin'?

"Three cosmos, please."

He nods, turning around to grab a bottle of vodka while I pull out two crisp banknotes from my clutch.

My upper eyelid twitches at the price when he slides the drinks over to me in exchange for my money, but I pretend it's fine, picking up the three martini glasses in a triangle formation between my fingertips, so as to make carrying them over to our booth that much easier.

"Sophie, seriously, put the phone away!" I hear Aurelia say as I slide in beside her, and gulp down two big mouthfuls of my cosmopolitan.

"But Aidan—"

My sister grabs her own drink. "You mean the cheating knob—"

I push Sophie's cocktail towards her. She looks like she bloody needs it. "How did you catch him cheating? Had you been together for long?"

Our drinks disappear as Sophie spins her tale, until Aurelia slips out of the booth to buy us our next round of cocktails. I sip my second cosmo slowly this time, savouring the sour twist of the lime hidden inside and the way it dances across my tastebuds.

Sophie, however, gulps hers down much faster than before, and then grins, making it rather apparent she's not too good at holding her drink.

I don't mean too, but as she babbles on in the background – we've left the topic of her cheating ex-boyfriend far behind – my mind begins to drift off.

The crowd inside the bar, thins out and then thickens in waves; people moving from the bar to the seats, groups of friends reuniting, hugging and kissing before dispersing again, the making of new connections as people pair off, some in twos and threes and fours.

I stare right ahead, watching the woman in my line of sight move from her seat. She edges towards the doorway, leaving me with a clear-cut image of the small, simple, two-seater table she'd been sitting in front of.

Of the small, simple, two-seater table that's occupied.

By one person.

By one fucking person…

I blink and then again, unsure if my eyes are playing tricks on me. My stomach is pleasantly warm from my consumption of alcohol, but I'm not drunk. I'm not even tipsy.

At least, I don't think I am. But if I'm sober, then there's no way I can actually see—

Grey.

As if he can feel the weight of my stare on the side of his face, he turns, finding me in the crowd instantly.

I must make a sound because I vaguely hear Aurelia mutter, "What's up with you?" beside me, but I can't turn around to face her. I can't force my lips to move and make words. To tell her who I've just seen in this crowded bar. To tell her it's just my luck, that Grey has chosen this particular bar, the one I'm in, when there's hundreds upon thousands of bars in London, he could take his date tonight.

God, his date. The thought—

I swallow down the sudden knot in my throat before a weird itch tickles the left-hand side of my rib cavity, protecting my heart. I scratch at it, the gossamer material of my dress catching on my French manicured nails, until it fades as easily as it arrived.

All the while, my eyes stay permanently fixed on him. On Grey. I'm transfixed, greedily gobbling up the way his long legs are straightening as he pushes back his chair and stands.

He looks fucking edible; a pair of brogues I can't quite make out the colour of on his feet, a tailored pair of black trousers, turned up at the bottom and leaving a strip of his ankle bare. Grey's trousers are held up by a belt, with a matching black button down on his top half. Although, he's got half of the buttons not even fucking done up, so I can see halfway down his chest, his defined pectoral muscles—

I can't open my mouth to tell my sister Grey is eating up the space between us, walking away from his seat, foamy beer in hand, heading towards us.

Towards me.

"Hello, Delilah."

His voice. The way he says those words, allowing them to spill off his tongue while a grin overtakes his entire face.

My core pulses.

I peer up at him from between my lashes, my hand resting on the cool stem of my cocktail glass, the only thing keeping me grounded. "Grey."

A beat of silence takes over, in which I can't stop staring at him and he can't stop staring at me and I'm wondering what the hell to say when my sister chirps up on realising we must know each other.

"Do you want to join us?" I whip my head around to face her. "While you wait for your…" She purposefully tails off; her question open ended for my benefit, I'm sure.

"I was supposed to be meeting my youngest brother, Hudson, but he just cancelled on me about five minutes ago, probably out chasing some girl so I was just going to finish my pint and go, but…"

"Stay."

I don't realise the word has escaped my mouth until Grey is smiling down at me, his cheeks dimpled.

"Here." The metal strap of Aurelia's handbag jingles in my ear as she fidgets. "I'll sit by Soph, and you and Delilah can have this side of the booth."

I would like to lean over and throttle her. I know what type of game my sister is playing. But the whole, my hands around her neck thing, would be rather obvious, so instead I try to communicate with her through the widening of my eyes.

She pretends she doesn't see me.

Within seconds, I find myself enclosed into the leather booth, the exposed brick wall on one side of me and Grey on the other. If I need to get out, I will have to ask him, slide my body against his and—

"It's my turn to get the next round in and I need another drink," Sophie mumbles. She's not exactly slurring, but she's not far off from it. "Who wants what?"

"I'm fine, thank you, Soph," I say, still twiddling the glass stem. Grey raises his half pint off the table in gesture, bringing it to his lips. Lips that are plump and kissable looking and— "I'm good, too. Thank you, though."

"No bother." Sophie slides out of her side of the booth, slightly uncoordinated and wobbly in her heels.

"I'll go with her," Aurelia declares, following suit, linking her arm through Sophie's, both of them becoming swallowed up by the growing bar crowd.

I take a drink simply for something to occupy my hands with, almost choking on my cocktail when I feel Grey's thigh press into my knee beneath the table. His skin is searing hot, eating away at the thin material of my chosen outfit.

"You look gorgeous, Delilah."

I don't know which flutters more, my heart or my core.

"Thank you." My lips twitch at the edges. "You don't look too bad yourself."

Grey laughs breathily. It's a testament to how close we're sitting that I can even hear such a quiet sound in this jam-packed bar.

"You're a tough nut to crack, Delilah." Grey tears his gaze away from me, staring out at our pulsing surroundings. "It's a good job, I'm not a quitter."

I'm really not sure what to make of that statement, so I pocket it away for later, when I'm alone and can examine and pull it apart until my brain runs on a loop.

A quiet brain? I've never had one of those.

"So, what brought you out tonight?"

I can't fucking tell him the truth, can I? That I was looking for a distraction – any sort of distraction – from him.

"Um, I—"

"We're back!" Sophie announces. "The bartender gave me a free shot when I told him about Aiden!"

Aurelia shoots me a look, the same one that must be etched on my own face by the way Grey bounces his eyes across both of us Clark sisters and then chuckles into the rim of his beer.

"You must be Aurelia, Delilah's sister. The resemblance is uncanny."

"And you must be the swim teacher, Grey."

Grey flicks his eyes to me, the necklace dangling from his chest glinting in the overhead light. My mouth turns ridiculously dry, even as he stays silent.He knows she knows about him. He knows I've talked about him.

He tips his head in my sister's direction. "It's nice to meet you."

"Likewise," Aurelia all but purrs. Those eyes of hers, they're flashing with mischief I recall distinctly from our childhood, when she would run our father ragged before—

Where the fuck did that come from?

I shake myself, shoving my gloss-stained cocktail glass away from me. It's got to be the alcohol, bringing up old memories. Unwanted memories.

"So, you, like, teach people how to swim?" Sophie garbles.

"Yep," Grey answers.

"You look familiar."

Grey runs a hand through his hair, shrugging, eyes cutting away from Sophie and then back again. "Guess I've just got one of those faces?"

"Yeah… ugh, I feel super sick all of sudden."

"Please don't vomit on the floor," I mutter.

Grey laughs again, louder this time. "Those words literally came out of my mouth yesterday when a kid was yacking up the pool water."

"Not in the pool water I'm swimming in on Wednesday, I bloody hope."

"You think you'll be swimming by Wednesday?" Grey jokes, ignoring my indignant squawk and the whack of my hand on his upper arm. "I know I'm good, but I'm not that good, gorgeous. You still need a few more lessons, yet."

He's joking with me, and I like it. I really like it. So, I play along too. "And you think I'm going to come back to you on Wednesday, after you're being so rude to me? Huh?"

"Yeah, you are."

"You seem extremely confident in your answer, Mr Millen."

"I don't like leaving business unfinished, Delilah, and I get the feeling you don't either."

I lick my lips, shifting to cross my legs, accidentally tapping the toe of my high heel against the bare strip of Grey's ankle. As I go to pull away, Grey's large hand clamps down on my upper thigh. Keeping me there. Tucked into his side.

"Grey—"

He goes to lift his hand from my leg, but I move before he can, resting my hand on top, keeping him there, silently letting him know I don't mind his touch. Quite the opposite, actually.

"Sorry to interrupt you two…" I turn to find Aurelia standing outside of the booth, an almost green looking, crying Sophie hanging from her arm. "But Soph's just puked all over the toilet, so I'm going to take her home."

I hadn't even heard the girls stand up and slip out of the booth, let known disappear to the toilets, too caught up in the private bubble Grey and I seem to have made for ourselves.

"No worries," I say, trying to ignore the disappointment fizzing inside of me. I don't want to go yet. I don't want to leave Grey, but… "Let me just grab my bag and—"

"You two should stay. Together," Aurelia suggests. Well, it's less of a suggestion and more of a telling. "There's no need for all of us to go home, I'll send you our location in the taxi and again when I'm back home, okay?"

"I—" I'm torn. Half of me wants to stay in my bubble with Grey, to see if he'll touch me again, make my heart gallop and my core clench. He's funny and kind and he smells amazing and I'm fucking attracted to every inch of him. My mind and body move on autopilot, this primal instinct keeping me glued to his side.

But I worry about my little sister too, wanting her to get home safely without a scratch.

"I'll send you our location straight away," Aurelia promises, leaning to kiss me on the cheek. "Twenty minutes tops and I'll be back home."

"Stick together, please."

"Pinkie promise." I thread my pinkie finger through Aurelia's. Something we've been doing ever since we were little kids – our way of communicating, sometimes silently when the time called for it. "Love you."

"Love you," I call back, watching Aurelia stride, and Sophie wobble, into the throng of bodies.

Grey squeezes my thigh to grasp my attention. He peers at my right eye, dipping down to stare at my lips and then back up to my eyes again. "She'll be okay. They'll both get home safely, don't worry."

I nod, pulse thrumming in my ears, warm all over. The crowd in the bar doesn't help, layers upon layers of added body heat. My whole body feels wound up tight. I need a release.

I'd come to the bar looking for a distraction. A distraction from Grey.

Well, half of a plan succeeding is better than the whole thing failing, Delilah.

"I think I need some fresh air myself," I say before I can lose my nerve. "Want to get out of here?"