Page 37 of The Interception
“I just…do.” Ender shrugs and brushes his thumb under my eye. “We’re fine.”
“I should have listened to you.”
“No, you shouldn’t. We’re a team, and your opinion matters as much as mine. Come on, we’re free to go. Let’s brainstormour last meal and make sure it blows them away. We’ll make it, Layne. I know we will.”
“Your confidence is…well, it’s something.” I chuckle and he drops his hand.
“You can call it what it is. A little cockiness.” He smiles and leans in. “Don’t pretend you didn’t think that when we first met.”
“Oh, I liked you just fine. Then you opened your mouth,” I tease. I stand and wiggle free. “I think we should do something with chicken. I have some ideas if you want me to email them to you.”
“Or we could go somewhere and talk about them.” He runs his fingers from my elbow to my hand, tickling over my palm.
I adjust my hair and stop in the aisle.
“I can think better when I’m alone. If you don’t mind, I’d like to think it over, call my sister-in-law and update her, get a decent night’s sleep. You know, alone things.”
“Are you saying I’m distracting?”
“You are like a sledgehammer to the brain, Ender.”
His eyes go wide and I realize he’s taken it the wrong way. Before he feels the need to defend himself, I grasp both of his hands and tug him forward.
“Yes, you distract me. That’s okay, but…I’m…” I chew my lip, seeking the right words. “I’m…trying to figure out how distracted I want to be.”
Realization dawns on him, relaxing his frame. “Yeah, okay. I’ll do some brainstorming, too, and we can email or text, whatever works for you. I should probably spend some time with my family and Leo, too, like you said.” He shrugs, then shock widens his eyes. “Not that you can’t be there. I meant it when I said I like having you around. So do Sarah Beth and Lula. And Leo. Well, he doesn’t matter. He doesn’t live there, but I’m saying—”
“Ender,” I chuckle. “I get it. I suggested it, remember?”
He gives me one nod and a sigh. Am I making him nervous? Me?
“Okay. I’ll walk you to your truck then.”
No, not that again. Walking me to my truck means another goodbye, another tense moment of will he or won’t he, and the complete opposite of me having a minute to figure out if I truly do want this…whatever it is.
“Oh, uh, actually, I wanted to finish my conversation with Hannah before I head out. So, I’ll see you tomorrow?”
Ender releases my hands and gives me a friendly hug. “Yeah, tomorrow.” Then he awkwardly parts and wanders down the aisle, glancing over his shoulder once as if he is physically incapable of leaving without his partner tucked to his side. I smile and turn away, determined to stick to my guns. I will not run down the aisle and clutch him like a lovesick puppy. Though my resolve sticks and I don’t make a fool of myself, I can’t deny how he makes me feel.
And it scares me.
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.
