Page 31 of The Interception (Southern Sports Sweethearts #2)

I direct myself toward the neighborhood exit.

The clubhouse parking lot is the last place to stop and park before entering the main road.

My feet have never pounded pavement so hard in my life.

I’m probably breaking a personal best, yet it feels like I’m moving in slow motion.

I make it to the end of the road and turn right, passing one of my neighbors on a golf cart.

He shouts something to me, but I don’t pause to listen or ask him to repeat himself.

I’m on a mission, and my target is literally pulling out of the clubhouse parking lot in front of me.

It's still several hundred yards in the distance, and that familiar truck is slowing at the stop sign. Sarah Beth was right. At least, she was right about her going to the clubhouse lot, but whether it was to cry or not remains to be seen. I’ll figure it all out if I catch her.

My feet are screaming at me, and I realize I don’t even have shoes on…

which might be what my neighbor was yelling about.

There is no telling what I’ve stepped on or what damage might be done to my feet.

Coach will kill me if I’ve injured myself, but let him.

I need Layne. I need her, want her, can’t live without her sparkling up my life.

The truck pulls forward from the stop sign and turns. I have about ten seconds before she’s on the main road and I can’t chase after her.

I kick it into a gear I didn’t even know I had and scream for her. She’s slowing for the stop sign at the main entrance now, so I wave like a maniac and keep yelling. Fifty yards…twenty-five…ten…I finally reach the truck and manage to smack the tailgate.

It was a really bad idea.

Layne slams on the breaks, and I run full speed into the back of the truck. I land on my back and stare at the dark, star-filled sky for about fifteen seconds before the expanse is filled with the most beautiful face I’ve ever seen in my life.

“Ender!”

She offers her hand to help me up. I take it and rise to my feet.

My entire body aches now that I’ve had a chance to slow down, but I don’t care.

I’d do it again a hundred times for this woman.

I’m about to bend over to catch my breath when she releases my hand, breaking the connection I crave.

“Ender! What are you doing? Are you crazy?”

“Yes,” I huff and yank her closer by her waist. “I must be crazy because I almost let you get away.”

Her lips part to speak, but it doesn’t matter what she’s about to say. Her eyes tell me everything I need to know. They sparkle with surprise, elation, confidence…it’s Layne Rossi in all of her beautiful happiness.

I pull her in and pepper her jaw with kisses before pressing my lips to hers. She melts in my arms and kisses me, tightening her grip around my waist as if she’s waited for this moment for as long as I have. It’s not our first kiss, but it is the first with a promise attached to it.

It’s sweet and slow, none of that frantic this could end any moment panicked kissing, but a confident, loving, caring kiss that brings an ache to my chest. This is the one.

This is the woman God imprinted on my heart, that He made just for me, and she’s here.

She’s in my arms, ready and willing to move into the future with me…

I think…but stopping this kiss to ask her would be excruciating, and I don’t want to.

Layne releases my waist and presses her hands to my chest, gently but insistently.

I release her and press my forehead to hers.

I can finally take a moment to breathe, collect my thoughts, and take in every second of this chance with her.

My heart still races. She presses her fingers into my chest and sighs.

“You make my heart beat so fast every time I see you. I get an adrenaline rush, and I can’t stop feeling like I’m about to explode whenever you enter a room,” I admit because I know she feels how fast my heart thrums.

“I’m pretty sure that’s because you ran barefoot from your house to catch me,” she teases.

I dip my head and kiss her again with a gentle ease that seems to be the way between us.

“No, that’s not why. I mean, yes, I’m beat after that exercise, but I mean it.

My whole existence brightens when you’re near me.

I’m falling in love with you.” I pull back and palm her face in both hands.

“I’d really like to know if you feel the same way, and if you want to try to make this work? I don’t know how, but somehow?”

Layne bites her lip to hold back her tears. They glisten in her eyes, but I never want her to hold back with me. Not ever.

“You haven’t held back your feelings from me since the moment we met. Please don’t start now, gorgeous.”

She chokes a laugh and the tears spill free. “I didn’t want to push you,” she admits. “Yes, I want to work on this because I feel the same way. I just didn’t want to try to force myself into life here with your sister and everything that you’ve both gone through.”

“Layne, that’s ridiculous. Don’t you know you make everything better?

” I breathe a sigh of relief, one that is so soothing, even my grief over losing my best friend seems to ease a little.

And I remember my sister and niece. “Come on. There are two ladies back home who will absolutely put me in the grave with a magazine beating if I don’t bring you back with me. Maybe Leo too at this point.”

“A…what?” she asks, her ponytail bobbing as she quirks her head.

“Long story. Come back with me? Spend another weekend with us?”

“A weekend?”

And real life crashes back around me. “I guess you’ll have to go back to Savannah some time to get your restaurant started, but I can come down there when the season is over. Spend a few months there, see the sights.”

“And then what? We keep doing that until…what?”

I can’t help feeling like she’s already pulling at a loose thread, and I’m about to panic when she lays her head on my chest and wraps her arms around me.

“I’ll head back to the house with you, stay a few more days, and we’ll work it out.

I never said the restaurant had to be in Savannah, Ender. You only assumed.”

“But, Layne, I don’t want you to uproot—”

“Shh.” She presses a finger to my lips. “Less talk, more snuggling me in the middle of the road.”

I chuckle and hug her until my neighbor, also known as the homeowner’s association president, pulls up in his golf cart.

He shakes his head at me and passes. “You’re blocking traffic,” he says with a smile.

I look back and realize there are no less than five cars stopped, all their drivers watching our exchange with bated breath.

“Oh my gosh,” Layne says. “We have to go back to your house so I can hide.”

“One more first.” I move in and kiss her again, wondering why I waited so long to listen to my heart.