Page 23 of The Interception (Southern Sports Sweethearts #2)

Chapter Seventeen

Layne

We almost kissed again. And it was more than clear that was definitely his intention this time. What does that mean?

Staring at the ceiling last night before bed didn’t help me figure it out, and doing the same thing this morning yields the same results.

My stomach churns at the idea of putting any more thought into it, especially since I should be focused on our final dish.

We have to do something amazing to get that top spot.

It’ll be almost impossible, since the first-place team has enough points to run away with this thing if we don’t come out swinging.

The rest of the teams have all but given up catching up, but frankly, if they put in the work, they could do it too.

And that is terrifying.

Which is a good reason to keep things between Ender and me professional.

This is a competition, we’re both in it to win, I live in Savannah, he lives in Charleston.

Nothing can happen between us. Besides, he’s a pro football player.

Loads of women love him, and I’m not interested in competing with them now or ever.

All through my morning routine and that first cup of coffee, my resolve sticks. It solidifies until I’m almost certain I can see Ender again and feel nothing but friendship.

Then my phone dings. His name flashes over the screen.

It’s embarrassing what it does to my heart and my stomach. “Traitors,” I mumble and tap the message.

Ender

Hey, I have a problem I need to work out with the schedule. Can you meet me for breakfast?

My assumption that he means our testing and his practice schedule feels too easy a solution.

For him to message me and ask to meet, it has to be something more.

What if he can’t meet me at all before the next round?

That would be awful. I tap out a reply and dump my coffee into a to-go mug, grab the keys, and pray Ender isn’t about to blow everything up.

I arrive at the café and find Ender already in a corner booth. When I approach, he scoots over, encouraging me to sit on the same side. I don’t like the look on his face, so I brace myself for whatever he’s about to say and slide in beside him.

“We have a problem.” He runs his hands over his face. “A couple of weeks ago, a game was postponed due to severe weather. It’s been rescheduled.”

“Okay, is that the bad news?”

“No, the bad news is that it’s been rescheduled for the same day as our final round. I can’t miss the game. My contract will be terminated if I don’t show up.”

I shake my head, confused. “Wait, the cook-off is at the stadium. Wouldn’t they need to reschedule that if you’re having the game there?”

“It’s an away game, believe it or not, in Savannah.” Ender groans again. “I’m so sorry, Layne. I’m not sure what we can do at this point. I can’t lose my contract.”

“No, of course not. I understand. What time is the game?”

“Noon. If it doesn’t go into overtime and Coach lets me drive myself, I could be back in Charleston between five and six, but no guarantee at all.”

“And the competition starts at six on the dot.” I drop my face into my hands. “What do we do? Are we just done?”

“I thought about asking the organizers if you can do it yourself. We can plan it all out, test it a few times so you can get your timing down, then if they will allow me to join you when I arrive, we can finish it up together.”

“That’s a lot of wishful thinking, Ender. I’m not sure they’ll let us do that.”

“We can ask, right?”

“Sure, yeah, but that’s a lot riding on me. I’m not sure I’m good enough to make the final dish and do it in the best time. We’re barely sitting in our current spot. If I mess up, it’s over. Assuming they even agree.”

I don’t realize how close I am to crying until a tear slips free.

“Hey, I have faith in your ability. You are an amazing chef, and I’m positive we can make this work out.

” His voice, so soothing and gentle, almost has me thinking he might be right.

Then he presses a soft kiss to my temple and my whole world tilts.

“You can do it. I know you can. Let’s go talk to the organizers and see if it’s even a possibility, then we can start working on what we’ll do, and getting your time down with prep. Sound good?”

I mindlessly nod because I’m still working to figure out what that temple kiss was about. The way he acts, it’s like he doesn’t even realize he did it. How could he not know he kissed me? I lick my lips, and he goes silent. His eyes bounce between my lips and my eyes, then settle on my nose.

“Uh…Layne? Should we go? I can drive us or…you know, we can ride separately.” He looks at me as if this isn’t the first time he’s presented this option to me, and I realize I’ve spent a great deal of time in silence trying to figure out what is happening to my mushy brain right now.

“Right. Yes. Judges, the plan. I’ll um…drive myself.” I slip out of the seat but Ender grasps my wrist and pulls me back in. I’m not sure what to expect, but it isn’t him cupping my face and forcing me to focus on him.

“It’s going to work out. I promise. Somehow we’ll make sure you get your restaurant.” He brushes his thumb over my jaw and every ounce of resolve I had to keep this professional between us dissolves on the spot.

“And help Sarah Beth,” I whisper.

“Right. It’ll be okay. We’ll figure it out.”

I nod and he releases me. Taking the opportunity to catch my breath, I head to the door a few steps ahead of him.

He still manages to get to it before me and holds it open.

If he walks me to the truck and helps me in again, I’ll die.

I need some space, a little time to rebuild my…

what was it again? Oh yeah, my resolve. That’s it.

The determination I’m supposed to be using to ensure I don’t lose the competition and get my heart broken at the same time.

“I’ll meet you there,” I call and rush to the truck, passing his as I go.

He says something I don’t hear, probably agreeing with me, but I double-time it anyway. The drive to the stadium to meet with the organizers will help me clear my head. I hope. I’m doing a lot of that lately.

Wishful thinking never did a thing for anyone, and my hopes that I’d somehow rebuild my wall of resistance on the short drive to the stadium was as foolish as any wishful thought has ever been.

The moment he steps out of his truck and slams the door closed, I melt.

In fact, I’m staring at him so intently that it does not occur to me to open the door to my own vehicle and get out until he stops at the door and opens it for me.

There isn’t much wiggle room for me to slip out without touching him, but I manage.

“I’m a little nervous about what they’ll say, but somehow we’ll figure it all out.”

I’m not sure if he’s trying to reassure himself or me, but there’s really no way to know how the organizers will feel about the situation until we talk to them.

No amount of worrying will solve this problem.

I am a little concerned that the other contestants might see me as weak without Ender there to help me, which means they’ll make my life miserable during the competition.

Or they could see it as favoritism that the organizers are flexible with us.

Or everything will be fine, but I’ll be the one to put so much stress on myself that I fail.

Panic washes over me but there is no time to swallow it down before we reach the office the organizers are using for the time being. Ender knocks on the door.

“Come in,” someone says.

He pulls the door open, and I come face to face with a woman I’ve never met, seated behind a desk, smiling up at me. I thought I’d met all of the organizers, but they keep popping up everywhere. “What can I do for you Ms. Rossi?”

“Oh, um…we were wondering…I mean, if it’s possible to talk to someone about a scheduling issue?”

“Certainly. If you would have a seat, I’ll see if I can get someone from the team. One moment.”

I take the opportunity to sit and observe the room.

It feels a lot like being in a doctor’s office waiting room with its bland wallpaper, confetti-colored carpeting, and basic furniture with an array of magazines across it.

It’s eerily identical to the team doctor’s office, which is probably why I feel as if I’m about to have a full body shake down when a side door opens and a man peeks his head through.

“Ms. Rossi? Mr. Langley, come on in.” The man, who I now recognize as one of the big event coordinators, motions for us to enter the back area with him. “I’m Arnold Waynes, one of the bosses around here. What can I do for you?”

Ender pulls out a chair for me before nervously sitting beside me.

“I’m not sure where to begin really, so I’ll dive in.

One of my games was rescheduled for the same day as the finals.

I can’t be sure I’ll make it back to Charleston in time.

We wanted to see if it’s possible for her to begin on her own, and I’d join her as soon as possible. ”

The man frowns and puts on a pair of glasses. “That is unfortunate. Let me reference the rule guide and see what we’re allowed to do.”

Ender and I wait as patiently as we can while he scrolls through page after page of information. Finally, the man squints and leans forward.

“Ah, here we are. Looks like…huh…well, as long as you’ve designed the dish together, only one of you needs to be present at the finals. Uh…looks like you also incur a ten-second penalty, but given your position, I doubt that will cause much of an issue for you.”

A ten-second penalty on top of having to prepare everything myself? I’d say that’s a major issue, but I can’t make a big deal out of something I can’t change. We’re lucky I even get to try.

“Thank you so much. I can’t tell you what a relief that is. I’ll do my best to return on time, but if the game goes into overtime, there’s not much I can do.”

Mr. Waynes nods his agreement. “I understand. Is there anything else we can do for you?”

“No, I think that settles it. We should probably head out and get started figuring out what we’re going to do.” Ender stands and offers me his hand. In auto mode, I accept it and glaze over while he says our goodbyes.

It isn’t until we’re back outside that he notices I’m basically a zombie.

He squeezes my hand, reminding me that we are holding hands again.

“You’re going to do amazing things in the finals, Layne.

I know you can do it. I looked over the recipe ideas you sent last night, and the garlic butter chicken sandwich sounds phenomenal.

I think we can get that one done the fastest with the biggest payoff. ”

“Your faith in me might be misplaced, but I’ll do my best,” I mumble and wiggle free to wipe the stress from my face.

“I’m still really sorry, Layne. Never in a million years did I expect that game to be rescheduled for the same day as the finals round.

I’ll try to get back in time, but I can’t promise.

” Ender ruffles his hair for the tenth time, but it isn’t his fault.

None of it is his fault. I try to remind myself I didn’t even want to enter this contest and only did it to appease Lottie.

I just…didn’t realize how much I grew to want it in such a short time.

“I know. I totally understand. We’ll do what you said: work on our plan, let me do it myself a few times and shave off seconds where we can, and we’ll pray you make it back to help me.”

Ender grasps my elbow and slides his hand down to mine before lacing our fingers together. “You’re the best partner I could have asked for. Thank you for being so understanding about everything.”

“I’d ask you to lunch, but I need to get home so Sarah Beth can use the truck. Can I call you later, and we’ll sync our schedules to get this final recipe nailed down?”

“Sure, sounds good.”

He stops at my truck and waits for me to unlock it before helping me in. Since he’s holding my right hand, he has to release me or else get all tangled up in the cab of the truck with me…which I think he fully considers before reluctantly releasing his grip.

When I’m settled, he leans on the door frame. “I really do think doing something with chicken will be best for the final. If that’s okay with you, I’ll get the groceries so we can test it all out?”

“I think that’s fine. We’ve done beef twice, and I hate fish. We could do pork, but chicken really would be easier if I have to do it on my own.”

“I’m sorry. I—”

I reach for his hand again. “Hey, it’s okay. I didn’t say it to make you apologize again. I’m only thinking out loud about what would work best.” I’ve brought his hand onto my lap, and now I don’t know what to do with it. He’s closer in my orbit now, standing right beside me.

Ender sucks in a breath and licks his lips. “I meant it when I said you’re the best. I hope we can still be friends when you have to go back to Savannah. I’d miss you if you ditched me.”

I force a smile. The very thought of not seeing him every day makes me nauseous. “I thought we already established that you would come eat at my place?”

“We did, but it doesn’t hurt to confirm. I mean, we did also bring up the topic that the tension between us might be maybe more than friendly?” He’s leaning closer, his shoulder brushing against mine. “Layne, I wanted to ask you—”

A horrible screeching sound interrupts him and startles us apart. He yanks his phone from his pocket and groans. “That’s Coach. He’s called a meeting. I gotta go in here again before I head home.” He checks his watch. “Hopefully, I’ll get done before she needs the truck.”

“Worry not. If you don’t, then message me and I’ll pick her up. No worries.”

Without warning, Ender leans into the truck, kisses my cheek, and steps back.

“Sorry, I gotta run, but I really appreciate it. I’ll let you know.

” He shuts the truck door as his phone screeches again.

I watch him answer it and say, “I’m coming, I’m coming.

I’m in the lot, which is why I didn’t answer immediately. ”

Ender jogs up the stairs, leaving me swooning in the truck. How can so many kisses on the cheek and temple make me feel more cared for than an actual, real kiss? I don’t know. But…now I really want to find out what those real kisses might be like.