Delilah Green Doesn't Care(Bright Falls #1)(40)

Delilah looked down at the paper. “It says here we’re supposed to undress and put on the robes provided before we head downstairs to our assigned massage room.” She set the paper on the counter and grabbed the two fluffy white robes that hung on the wall next to the shower, holding one out to Claire.

Claire took it, curling it to her chest, and then she just stood there, staring at Delilah like she was waiting to see who would start undressing first.

Delilah cleared her throat and Claire jolted.

God, was Claire waiting to see who would start undressing first? She was officially a disaster. A horny, stressed-the-hell-out disaster.

And from the small smile that lifted the corners of her mouth, Delilah knew it.

“You want to change in here and I’ll take the bedroom?” she asked.

Claire nodded way too vigorously. “Yes. Good. Perfect.”

That little smile again. “Good. Perfect,” Delilah said before leaving and closing the door behind her.

Claire slumped against the counter, rubbing her forehead with the robe. She had to get a grip. It was just a robe. It was just a spa. Delilah was just a person. A gorgeous person, true, but a person nonetheless, like Claire. A person she had absolutely no business thinking about naked or what the skin just under her ear might taste like.

“Do you think we’re supposed to leave on our underwear?” Delilah called from the other room, her voice completely guileless.

Claire groaned into the robe. “I don’t know!”

“Hmm. I’m taking mine off.”

Oh, for god’s sake.

Claire stripped down to her undies and bra—decidedly leaving both on—and splashed some cold water on her face. Then she wrapped the cloudlike robe around her, securing the tie around her waist, and sat on the edge of the huge soaker tub while she took a few deep breaths. What she really wanted to do was call Ruby, but her phone was out in the bedroom. While she sat there, trying not to think about tonight or nakedness or Delilah’s underwear on the floor, a knock sounded on the outside door.

“Who is it?” she heard Delilah call.

“Me.”

Claire recognized Iris’s voice and stood up.

“Me who?” Delilah said.

“Iris.”

“Prove it.”

Claire cracked a smile and opened the door into the bedroom an inch, just to make sure Delilah was robed—she was, and sat on the end of the bed scrolling lazily through her phone—and then went to let Iris in. She was thankful for the distraction in the form of her best friend, her voice of reason when it came to Delilah Green.

“Hey,” Iris said with her own fluffy robe in place, her red hair piled on top of her head just like Claire’s. She glared at Delilah. “Are you always like this?”

Delilah looked up. “Define this.”

“Annoying bitch?”

“Iris,” Claire said.

Delilah’s smile was beatific. “For you, I put my best foot forward.”

Iris sighed and popped her hands onto her hips. “Fine. Whatever, I’m sorry. So what’s the plan?”

“Plan?” Delilah asked.

“Yes, plan,” Iris said.

“To . . . get massages and a mud mask?” Delilah said.

Iris shook her head. “To dethrone lover boy.”

A pit opened up in Claire’s stomach. Last night, she and Iris had definitely decided that they needed to get serious about Astrid and Spencer. But the decision had been alcohol-induced, fueled by witnessing his covert dickishness and empowered by seeing Delilah haul him into the river. Actually doing something about it in the sober light of day, essentially ruining their best friend’s wedding, was a whole other matter.

Claire pressed her hands to her stomach. “Iris—”

“Oh no,” Iris said, pointing at her. “Oh hell no. You are not backing out now. You’re the one who said we couldn’t let her marry him.”

“I’m not backing out. I’m just . . . thinking.”

“You’re backing out. Even Delilah can see he’s a ghastly excuse for a human being.”

Delilah tapped her chin. “I’m going to choose to take that as a compliment.”

“Choose away,” Iris said, but then continued staring at Delilah. “Will you help us?”

“Help you get rid of Spencer?”

“Not get rid,” Claire said. “Just . . . maybe—”

“Yes. Get rid,” Iris said. “Our darling Claire here is too kindhearted.”

“Get rid sounds so violent,” Claire said. “We just need to talk to Astrid.”

“And three is better than two,” Iris said. “After last night, I like your style.”

Delilah flashed a grin at that but then grew serious. “What do you plan on doing? Tossing Astrid in a river?”

“Of course not,” Iris said.

“Oh, I know,” Delilah said, clasping her hands together under her chin and fluttering her lashes dramatically. “Sit her down for a nice heart-to-heart and convince her that her true love is still out there somewhere over the rainbow.”

Claire and Iris looked at each other. This wasn’t exactly what they planned on doing, but it was close.

“Do you have a better idea?” Iris asked.