Page 10 of The Interception (Southern Sports Sweethearts #2)

Chapter Seven

Layne

I try not to let what happened yesterday get to me, but the thing is, I don’t know what happened.

One minute Ender and I were making food, the next I was in an Ender sandwich waiting for him to kiss me.

Or not. I have no idea. All I know is, it was good timing when his teammate walked in.

It’s not like me to find myself in such positions, mostly because dating has taken a back seat while I work toward my goals.

Maybe it’s competition jitters getting to me? Who knows.

Speaking of competitions, I need to focus on the one I’m in right now.

Cameras are set up on the field, a few fans are in the stands, and the judges’ table is decorated to the nines.

Cameramen chat amongst themselves, and I’m heading into full-blown panic mode.

I need to clear my head and focus, so I call Lottie.

“Hey, what’s up, sis?” she answers.

“I need you to tell me to keep my head in the game and to stop trying to figure out confusing men. Also, tell me I don’t look ridiculous on camera.

” I look through the bags of groceries the organizers had delivered to make sure we have everything we need.

I only have about ten minutes before Ender arrives and I have to pretend I didn’t run away yesterday.

“Uh, what happened?” Lottie asks.

“Oh, you know, just testing recipes with a man yesterday and things got a little playful. One thing led to another, and if his teammate hadn’t walked in, I think he might have kissed me.”

“What?” Her voice screeches through the phone. “Ender Langley almost kissed you?”

“I think? Maybe? I don’t know. He was so rude the other day, but he’s been nice since then. He’s so confusing, though. One minute he’s looking at me like I annoy him more than anyone else in the world, and the next it’s like I hung the moon.”

“I think that’s just men. Andrew still does that to me. Want me to come down there and supervise?” she teases.

“You tease, but I might need you.”

“Oh, I was kidding. I’m not leaving my getaway to intrude on you finding your future husband.” She laughs and I roll my eyes.

“He is not my future husband. He’s just Ender. My super hot, athletic, amazing cook of a partner, but—”

“Hey.” Ender’s voice behind me startles me, and I almost drop my phone.

“Uh, I gotta call you back,” I say and hang up on my sister-in-law. After I swallow my heart down and shove my phone in my bag, I address Ender. “You startled me.”

“I noticed. What kinds of nice things did you have to say about me?” he asks while he ties an apron around his waist. My throat seizes.

He heard me talking about him? How much did he hear, and how deep am I in it if he heard the entire conversation?

Better to deny it, feel him out, see how much he heard and how hard he’s willing to push me to admit I might have given him a compliment…

three seconds after talking smack about him.

I scoff. “I wasn’t talking about you. Bold of you to make that assumption.”

He raises a dark eyebrow and smirks. “Mmm, pretty sure I heard my name. What were you talking about, Layne?” His tone is impossible to decipher. He could be teasing me, maybe on the verge of anger or annoyance, perhaps even worry.

The point is, he heard me, and lying about it is mean.

Best to get it out in the open, admit I was telling Lottie all about the stuff Ender has done to me, and see if he’s ready to ditch me after that.

I sigh. “Fine, I was complaining to my sister-in-law about you, okay? I told her all you did, complained about you for a minute, and now I’m over it. ”

Ender chuckles and arranges our ingredients, ensuring they are all correct. “Hey, I’ll take it. I was still the topic of conversation. Glad I’m forgiven for everything I did to you the other day.”

“Ha! I said I was over it, not that you’re forgiven.

If you think for one second that I’m going to forgive you for what you said and did to me, then you’re crazier than I thought.

I’m only putting up with you to win.” Except it’s a lie.

A total lie, because I already told him I forgave him, and judging by that widening smirk, he remembers.

Ugh. How do I always end up in these kinds of situations?

Why do I have to be attracted to the semi-jerky guy who is my cooking partner only?

Okay, fine. He’s not actually jerky. He just did a jerky thing, but I need to tell myself he’s a jerk or else…bad things will happen.

“You thought about me?” His tone is definitely teasing now.

I try to distract myself with looking over our handwritten recipe. “Like I think about a pebble in my shoe.”

“So, all the time then?”

My face heats with blush and I shake my head. “Can we get our heads in the game, Langley?”

“I thought we agreed you’d call me Ender?”

The announcer saves me by reminding us we have five minutes to organize our stations before the inspection. Once we set out everything, we walk through one more time. Part of our score is based on prep time, so it has to be seamless.

“I’ll make the cheese stuffing while you prep the meatballs, then you’ll stuff and I’ll make the funnel cake batter. Once that’s done, I’ll fry them while you prep the sauce, right?” I look up at Ender to confirm our task list, to find him clenching his jaw. “Are you okay?”

He relaxes and acts like nothing happened. “Yeah, sure. I’m focusing. That sounds good.”

“We’re set then?”

He nods and we take our places behind the table while we wait for the judges’ inspection. With over fifty tables, it takes some time. The field will be slashed by half after this round, but I’m confident we’ll make it through.

Ender bobs back and forth on the balls of his feet with his eyes closed.

“Uh, you sure you’re okay?” I ask while tying my apron.

He blinks open his eyes and stops shuffling. “Oh…yeah, sorry. I was getting in game mode. Praying, you know.”

I press my hands to my cheeks, hiding the embarrassment. Of course. It’s his pregame focus routine. I should have known that after watching Andrew do it hundreds of times. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I’m sorry.”

“Want to join me?” he asks, offering his hand. It’s prayer, and if we need anything right now, it’s a little guidance. I take his hand and let him lead a quiet, inspiring prayer before the judges reach our table. When he’s done, we refocus on the task in front of us.

It only takes a few more minutes for everyone to be approved, then the clock is set.

The announcer counts down from three, and we’re off.

Ender leaps right into making the meatballs, but I remember the fryer.

It takes me a second to get it started, but the cheese filling doesn’t take long, so we stay on track.

Once we’re both done, we shift tasks and I’m mixing for my life.

Ender has a rhythm going while stuffing the meatballs, so I grab some skewers and help him when I’m finished with the batter.

Before long, he’s done and moves around me to get to the barbecue sauce ingredients.

I check the oil, find it simmering and ready, and start dipping and frying.

We’re so in our zone, I don’t even see what’s going on around us.

People mill about, but I’m focused on winning this round, or at least staying in the game.

I’ve even forgotten about the cameramen moving about to get close-ups of our work.

Ender comes from behind and settles a hand on my waist, leans down, and whispers. “People are frantic. Most of them look like they’ve never worked with another person in their lives. We’re killing this partnership thing.”

He releases my waist and sets the sauce on the table beside me. I check the clock and notice we’re way ahead of schedule. We really are killing it.

When I’m done cooking all of the meatballs, Ender plates them up along with a little bowl of sauce.

They look nice, but could use a little more flair.

I have some batter left over, so I drizzle it in the oil and make real funnel cakes for the side.

Even with my little detour, we’re still one of the first teams to finish and ring our buzzer.

An organizer comes to pick up our meal and takes it to the judges. All we can do now is wait.

“Good idea adding the funnel cakes as a side. I didn’t think about having something to balance the plate. It looked good.”

“Thanks. Sorry it took a few minutes from our total time.”

He shakes his head. “It’s fine. I knew exactly what you were thinking, and I agreed. I would have stopped you if I was worried about the time.”

I try to soothe my frazzled nerves, which held off until that organizer came to get our plate, and watch others scrambling. There are loads of dishes that look amazing, and I begin to worry we didn’t do enough. There’s no going back now, so I try to keep my head in the game.

Soon, the announcers call time. Half a dozen unfinished plates go to the judges, and those six teams are immediately cut. With the others going up before the time limit, they have already been tested and judged.

“If you will turn your attention to the big screen,” the announcer says, “we will post the dishes in order of most to least favorite. The top twenty-five will move on to round two!”

A round of applause erupts from the audience as the list posts.

I had all but forgotten we had half a stadium full of people watching until their deafening cheers went up.

We scan the list and my eyes finally land on Rossi/Langley.

We’re in fifth place. I’m not sure how to feel about it, so I look to Ender for some idea.

He looks down at me and grins. “We live to fight another day, partner.”

“Fifth place…is that okay?” My forehead scrunches and my heart races.

He chuckles. “Yeah, absolutely. We can wow them with dessert and the main course. Fifth is nothing to scoff about.”

“You’re sure? I don’t want to make you lose because I’m—”

“Layne, stop.” Ender’s soft tone catches me by surprise.

He boxes me in again, this time only by blocking me from the rest of the crowd.

It’s just us in our little bubble, surrounded by people too busy cleaning up their messes to notice us.

“You did an amazing job. This is your first time, and you’re doing great. We’re good, okay?”

I take a deep breath. “Yeah. Okay.”

“All right. We should get this cleaned up so we can make it to the bonfire before all the good food is gone.”

“The bonfire?” I scour my brain and try to remember what was on the competition schedule. “I don’t remember anything about a bonfire.”

“It’s not an official part of the competition, but years ago it started as a fun thing the top twenty-five do together after the first round.

Of course, since we’re in teams, there will be more people, hence my encouragement to hurry if you want to get food.

I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. ”

“Do I have time to change first?” I ask and look down at my flour-covered self.

“Do you have a change of clothes?”

“Yeah, in the truck.”

“You can change in the locker room. No worries.” Ender dumps the trash into the tableside trash bin, then pushes all the good ingredients into a neat pile. I wipe down the table and make sure we have done everything required of us.

“All right. We’re all set. Grab your clothes and meet me at the front entrance. I can take you down to freshen up and change, sweetness.” Ender drops his apron on the table and heads toward the main building, leaving me thoroughly stuck on one word—sweetness. What?

I stifle the urge to call my sister-in-law again and hurry to the lot to get my things. If there is one thing I’m learning on this wild adventure it’s to expect anything…including wildly confusing football players.