Page 21 of The Interception
But real life invades in the form of a small child calling for her mother.
Ender releases me. “That’s Lula. I should go see if Sarah Beth needs help.”
“Yeah. Yeah, of course.”
“I hope we can stay friends.” Ender clears his throat. “After the cook-off is done, I mean.”
“Oh, for sure. When we win this thing, you have to come see my new restaurant.”
And just like that, the lightness in his eyes disappears. “Yeah, I guess I will.” He drops his hands and stands straight. “You should get some sleep. Rest up, and see if you can dream about something amazing for the next round, okay?”
I tuck my hands in my pockets and nod once. “Yep, will do. Rest yourself. You have an early morning, and I don’t want to be the reason you have to run extra laps.”
“Whew, after this contest and all the good food you make, I might need those extra laps. The sauce you made was a hit here last night. Lula doesn’t usually eat spaghetti, but she asked for seconds.”
“Really? Good to know I have a toddler fan. Maybe Sarah Beth will let me test out some breakfast on her.”
“Oh, I’m sure she will. If you can get Lula to eat something besides pancakes, you’ll be golden around here.” He half-shrugs. “I mean, you already kind of are to me.”
That heaviness surrounds us again and I can’t help hugging him once more. When we part, he brushes loose hair from my face. “Your room for the night is right behind you. Night, Layne. See you tomorrow.”
“Night, Ender.” I watch him head down the hallway with a different perspective. He’s a man in pain, trying hard to help his sister, with no outlet for himself. At least, that’s the feeling I get. He needs a friend, or at least one who is willing to let him show his softer side.
I want to be that for him.
Once his silhouette disappears, I step into the guest room. They weren’t joking about how nice it is. There are silk pajamas on the bed in four sizes, two for men and two for women. I grab a set and change, then head to the attached bathroom. There are new toothbrushes, travel-sized toothpaste, and a variety of toiletries on the counter in neat little trays. I’m pretty sure this was Sarah Beth’s doing, but it’s a lifesaver. Hopefully in the morning, I can repay the favor.
Chapter Ten
Ender
My alarm went offway too early after a late night, but I managed to get up and out of the house without waking anyone. Coach is watching me perform figure eights and screaming at me to get the lead out. I’m moving as fast as I can without turning this eight into a zero and dropping from dizziness. After this, I’m looking at ladder drills, bag drills, and any other drill he can think up to torture me. There might even be a ruck run in my future if I don’t shave some time off my eights.
I have a feeling I’m making up for missing the second half of practice the other day when Layne showed up and got run over by a linebacker. Still, it keeps my mind clear and focused on the game where it should be. Football pays the bills, and it’s this job that will help me to help my sister. Winning the cook-off would be great, but not at the expense of my career. I can’t believe I almost let myself get sucked in tofeelingswhen there are more important things at stake.
“Ten more, Langley,” Coach says.
I internally grumble but put the work in. The other training coaches are running different drills with the other positions,running them just as hard. I can’t complain, but I’m exhausted from burning the candle at both ends the past few days. And that’s just physically. Mentally and emotionally? The status of those two things should probably be examined by a therapist, but who has time for that when real life keeps coming at you?
I run my drills, try not to complain, and push myself as hard as possible while shaking out memories of my best friend, Asher. How horribly he died. How hard it hit my sister those first few weeks. I don’t think about how I didn’t grieve, not really, so my sister had someone to lean on when the state came after everything not tied down. She lost more than anyone should at once, and I’m a fool if I think toying with the idea of a relationship with any woman, let alone one like Layne, is a good idea.
When practice finishes, I try to ease my muscles with a short sit in the steam room. Leo and I are the only two who head that way when Coach wraps up, which is a small blessing. He’ll sit in silence while we relax. A lot of the other single guys would rather take the time talking up their game with the ladies, outlining their latest conquest, and generally making the steam room time a distasteful fifteen minutes of sinful misery.
“You good if I join you?” Leo asks, his black hair dripping with sweat already.
“Sure, but I warn you, I’m not good company. I’m too tired to talk.”
“Sounds good to me.”
True to his word, Leo lets me relax and unwind, but my mind drifts toward a certain woman who, despite my work to remove her from it during practice, has taken up way too much space in my brain lately. I know she’ll be awake by the time I return home, but I’m nervous to see her again after last night. Things got intense, and I shared more than I usually do with people. There was a moment again, one where I thought kissing herwould be the right thing to do, but she reminded me she lives in another city. Anotherstate.I came to my senses and realized adding that kind of drama to my life will not help.
The time in the steam room ends before I’m ready, but I lug my tired rear end out and into the locker room. Almost everyone else is gone, but a few stragglers hang around talking about their plans for the week. I’m too beat to even think about my calendar, so I shower and grab my things.
“You good, man?” Leo asks when we meet again at the door.
“Sure. Just tired. The competition on top of rigorous training has me too tired to think,” I admit.
“Anything I can do to help?”
