Deep Desire (Going Deep Book 4)

by Virna DePaul

  “Give me a second and I’ll—” she began, but he shook his head and raised her hand to kiss it.

  “No. That was just for you, Zoe. Now I’m going to finish running your bath, and you’re going to let me take care of you.”

  She stared at him, blinking back tears. “But—”

  “Let me take care of you, damn it,” he said, his voice suddenly fierce. “You won’t talk to me about why you get sad sometimes, and I’m trying to give you space, Zoe, I really am. But I don't know how much longer I can give you that. So you need to figure it out—how to let me in completely. Because I’m there and I want you there, too.”

  She inhaled on a shaky breath then pressed her trembling lips together to keep from crying. It should be so easy to let the words out, to ask for his help, even if that just meant having him listen to her as she talked about her father and her fear of losing Iron Maiden, but something held her back. When she said nothing, he sighed, disappointment flickering in his eyes. He leaned up and kissed her softly so she could taste herself on his lips. Staring at her, he said, “Rest and I’ll come back for you, peach. Rest and know I always will.”

  Chapter 17

  The snap.

  “Go deep!”

  He got his instructions. Going deep was where Gabe’s money was. He was a speed receiver, known for running out as fast as possible after the snap and putting that space between himself and the defenders. He bolted out in a nearly straight line, rushing past the players in black and red, colors that used to be his.

  Not anymore, Murphy. Keep your colors straight.

  Gabe caught the ball effortlessly and earned the Bootleggers their first first down of the 3rd quarter while Dawson got treated on the sidelines after a hit that’d rendered him dizzy. The crowd cheered. Coach yelled his encouragement across the turf. They were up 10-3, but he would’ve liked a higher lead. Just to be safe. Just to prove he could back up Dawson and that nobody needed to worry about his shoulder.

  He’d never felt stronger. Together, he and Zoe had done a kickass job.

  The quarter went extremely well and several people he’d gotten to know here in Georgia showed up and took the time to connect with Gabe. Alec LeBrun’s wife Ruby, their son Daniel, and their daughter, Elliot, who was attending a game for the first time. Aiden’s mom, who’d come out to support the team even after having a difficult chemo session earlier this morning. Bruce, one of the Bootleggers assistant coaches, whose teen son had gotten into an accident and walked away with minor scratches. Just knowing they were all there fueled Gabe.

  Life was good.

  Yeah, the Noise was here, too. Yeah, he had mixed feelings about that, but overall, he thought he was doing a pretty good job of coping with it. The only moment he felt weird was when his tight end buddy from the Noise walked past him and instead of giving him a friendly high-five like his other former teammates, he simply sneered. “It’s over, Murphy. Give up already,” he’d said.

  Gabe had just laughed.

  It was a psychological trick, meant to fuck with him, but he wouldn’t allow it. He hadn’t come this far to let one asshole comment throw him off. Still, he would’ve been lying if he said it didn’t hurt for two seconds. Zoe, Murph, Alec’s kids, Coach, Mimi and Pop watching at home…these were the people who mattered.

  “Stay focused, Murphy,” Heath Dawson said during huddle. “Your mind’s wandering but you’ve got this.”

  “It’s hard for him, bro,” Bender said, eyeing Gabe through the face mask. “Would be on you, too, if you were going against your former teammates.”

  Gabe gave Bender a nod of thanks. He never thought he’d get this kind of full swing support from his new teammates but he’d underestimated the Bootleggers. He could do this.

  They got into formation, and the countdown began. But Dawson wasn’t completely wrong. Gabe was appreciating his life so deeply tonight that he felt a little unfocused, almost like he wasn’t really there. Like he was outside of his body watching himself play. Was it déja-vu? It doesn’t get any better than this, a thought randomly flitted through his mind. The stadium lights, the cheering from adoring fans, the announcer’s voice giving the calls, the surreal realization that he was playing for the blue team, not the black and red.

  How quickly life had changed in just a few months.

  Bootleggers, Savannah, Zoe, a new brotherhood… So many aspects he’d never imagined would be happening right now.

  The offensive coordinator sent in a play to the huddle calling Gabe’s number for a slant route. As a wide receiver, Gabe had always loved the slant route, but it did have one major drawback—it reminded him of how his injury had occurred last season. He’d had his eye on the ball, was cutting diagonally across the field with his blockers keeping him safe, when two cornerbacks ambushed them, coming out of Gabe’s peripheral and stopping the short play with simultaneous tackles that left Gabe in agony and penalty flags flying. He couldn’t piece together much after that, because the pain melted into stadium lights, and stadium lights melted into ambulance lights.

  But that was then and this was now.

  Focus.

  Slant route.

  Snap.

  Gabe took off, straight down the side then cornering to the right, cutting across the field, his cornerbacks in position, just like they’d scrimmaged a thousand times. The likelihood of the same injury happening again was incredibly slim. Lightning never struck the same place twice. But for a moment, his impulses gave into red and black—his memory lapsed for a split second. His footing fumbled, as he grappled with confusion.

  Blue and white, you idiot. Bootleggers, not Noise.

  Though he made the catch and continued running, the momentary brain fart threw him for a loop. He ran towards the end zone, determined to give the Bootleggers that bigger lead, but a Noise safety and a linebacker took hold of his torso on either side. No—fucking no. Gabe plowed forward. He wouldn’t let them take him. He refused. But defensive players were bigger than wide receivers any day, and eventually, they lugged him onto the ground, as more players than were necessary piled on top.

  His body was instantly crushed by nearly twelve hundred pounds of weight, and the stadium lights melded into stars.

  Chapter 18

  If Zoe’s heart could’ve stopped simply from fear, it would have, but she kept a positive affirmation going in her brain: It’s okay…he’s okay…nothing’s wrong… Even if Gabe ending up at the bottom of a pile-up or being carried away on a stretcher strongly suggested otherwise.

  She couldn’t remember the run down to the medic room with his sister, how long it took to get there, or which staircase they took. The details all became a blur. All she knew was that they’d made it, out of breath, to the door where a stout man with a white goatee stopped them.

  “Sorry, ladies. No access here,” he glowered.

  Maybe he thought they were journalists or Gabe Murphy fans. The man needed to know who they were so he could let them in. “No, please…you don’t understand,” Zoe gasped out. “I’m his…”

  What?

  What was she exactly? His girlfriend? Significant other?

  More like his trainer who fell in love with him.

  There. She finally admitted it to herself.

  If waking up every morning and smiling at the gorgeous man next to you, not being able to wait until you got back to the house you shared with him to jump into his arms, or feeling your heart explode with joy every time the two of you made love meant LOVE-LOVE, then yes, she loved Gabe Murphy.

  Wasn’t that the best reason of all to let her in?

  Helplessly, she turned to Murph, as her words failed her.

  “I’m Michelle Murphy, his sister and agent, and this is Gabe’s girlfriend and athletic trainer. Let us in, you big goon, or she’ll plow you down. Trust me, you don’t want to go up against this one.” Murph shoved a thumb at Zoe. She would’ve laughed if she wasn’t overcome with grief at the idea of something terrible happening to Gabe inside the
room.

  The goateed man crossed his arms, as if that would make him appear more menacing. “I’ll let him know you’re here as soon as he’s done. Listen, ladies, it’s better if you wait, so the doctors can do their concussion protocol without distraction.”

  Yes, okay, true. Absolutely.

  Zoe nodded and blankly plopped onto a stone bench outside the medical facility, as more and more people gathered round, including a few reporters and cameramen. Ten minutes went by. Then twenty. Then thirty.

  This couldn’t be happening. What if he was injured again? What if it was worse this time? Two weeks ago he’d been talking about his fears of something bad happening to ruin his happiness, and she’d brushed him off with platitudes.

  “Why did you say what you did to the guard?” Zoe suddenly asked Murph.

  “What? That you’d plow him down?” Murph widened her eyes. “Because you’re solid muscle and I’m scared of you.”

  “No, the other part. About me being Gabe’s girlfriend.”

  “Well, aren’t you?” Murph’s beautiful clear blue eyes, a lot like Gabe’s but with perfectly groomed eyebrows above them, stared at her, a sparkle shining from inside sheer irises. “Sure looked that way to me when we were last hanging out at Pete’s.”

  “We haven’t defined what we are.” She fought to keep the tears rising into her eyes at bay. Because it didn’t matter that they’d said no labels. In her heart, she was Gabe’s girlfriend. And she wanted to be even more than that to him someday.

  “Then, I’ll tell you.” Murph turned her phone screen off and faced her on the bench, tucking one leg under her knee. “You’re in love with my brother.”

  “What? We’ve only known each other three months.”

  Murph just stared at her.

  “Is it that obvious?” Zoe finally said.

  “It is to me, and I’m not unhappy about it. I’ve never seen Gabe the way he’s been. When we arrived in Savannah, he was in a dark unforgiving place. I’m talking bad. He thought the world was out to get him. He thought he’d lost it all and was only hanging on because of how much he loves football, but Gabe thought the world had abandoned him. You’ve changed him, Zoe. It’s like you’ve drained the bitterness out of him one workout at a time, or one fuck at a time, either way.”

  Zoe blushed but laughed at the same time. Then she leaned forward and took Murph’s hand. “Two weeks ago, he told me he was happy, Murph.”

  Murph’s eyes widened with delight. “See!”

  “He was also worried about something happening to change that. And now…what if?”

  Murph shook her head. “We’re not thinking about what ifs. Only facts. And we don’t have the facts yet, Zoe. At least not about whether he’s injured badly. So let’s focus on the facts we do have. Gabe’s happy because you helped him get there again and I can’t thank you enough for that.”

  With a cry, Zoe reached out and hugged Murph tight.

  “I’m thankful too,” she said, when she pulled back. “After all, you hired me to train him.”

  “Yeah, well, I have something to confess. I—”

  Whatever she was going to say was interrupted when the door opened and a different security guard stepped out, pointing over the waiting crowd to them.

  “Miss Murphy? Reynolds? Just you two.” He waved them inside, as the rest of the crowd groaned or asked aloud if Gabe Murphy was okay. The security guard gave no indication.

  Zoe and Murph stood, navigated their way through the crowd until they reached the blue gateway then stepped inside the room. The man led them down another hallway, and the whole place was too quiet for Zoe’s taste.

  “Is he okay?” Murph asked.

  “I’ll let the doctors give the answers,” the security guard said, which only made Zoe’s heart pound inside her deflating chest. That didn’t sound good, and the tone with which he’d said it did not bode well.

  They followed the guard into a well-lit light gray room with brick walls, sterile examination tables, and posters of famous Bootleggers all around. Zoe immediately recognized most of them, great men she’d grown up around, including her dad Kip Reynolds right there on the center wall. Seeing his youthful, hopeful face and suntanned cheeks as he cocked back a football made her heart both light up with unconditional love and sink with sadness that he was no longer that man.

  They came around a corner where a doctor in Bootlegger colors and a white coat stepped out to stop them. Zoe tried to get a look around him, capturing a glimpse of white knee socks in cleats stretched out on the table, one knee propped up. The one knee propped up gave her hope. Assuming that was Gabe’s leg, it looked like he was resting and nothing worse.

  “You’re his sister?” the doctor asked, plunging his hand into Murph’s. “I’m Dr. Uriel. Your brother’s going to be fine. He just got his bell rung, and his shoulder looks great. No further damage. He’ll be able to play in next week’s game.”

  “Oh, thank goodness.” Zoe found herself wiping away tears of relief, turning to Murph, and laying her head on the woman’s shoulder. Murph reached a hand up to pat Zoe’s hair in consolation. She was so incredibly grateful to be here with Gabe’s sister to have someone to commiserate with.

  “So we can go in there and beat him up then, is what you’re saying?” Murph smiled at the doctor, shaking her head as if lamenting the stupid big brother she had. “That’s a relief to hear, doctor. Thank you so much. Can we see him?”

  “Just for a few minutes,” Dr. Uriel said. “He’s getting back his bearings. I’d like him to spend the rest of the night and all of tomorrow resting, if possible.”

  Why the doctor looked at Zoe when he said that, she wasn’t sure, but it made her blush even harder. So it was known all over then? Maybe she was his girlfriend, after all. The thought of it made Zoe feel immeasurably proud, and the suspicion was confirmed when all the guys standing around the table split like Moses parting the Red Sea to let them through.

  At the center of the hubbub was Gabe.

  “Heyyy, look who it is.” He had an ice pack on his head and two knee braces on his legs. He was bare from the waist up, looking a little banged up but otherwise sexy as hell. “Did you guys bring doughnuts? I’m kind of craving doughnuts right now, I don’t know why.” Gabe smiled and held out one hand for both his sister and Zoe to take.

  Zoe and Murph smiled at each other.

  “Doughnuts? You sure you’re okay there, buddy?” Zoe asked.

  “Never better.” His smile was so gorgeous, Zoe almost threw herself on top of him to kiss his sexy mouth right there in front of everybody.

  “Yeah, so…my brother’s weird comes out when he’s happy. You should probably know that.” Murph gave Zoe an understanding smile before turning back to Gabe. Was that true? Was Gabe really in the best of moods because of her? Zoe loved the idea that she could make such an impact on him. More than anything, though, she was relieved to see him smiling.

  Murph held a hand to his forehead like a mother might do when checking her child for fever. “Dumbass, you’re supposed to run the ball to the end zone, not bury it in the ground.”

  “Thanks, Murph. I’ll remember that.” Gabe shook his head and looked at Zoe. The way his steely hot gaze zeroed in on her made her stomach crunch, especially when he said, “Guys, can Zoe and I have a minute?”

  Murph patted his shoulder. “I’ll go find some doughnuts.”

  The room cleared out, leaving Gabe alone with Zoe. She bit back tears, rolled her eyes to the ceiling as a way of finding strength. “You scared me.”

  “Nah, you can’t kill a bad weed, peach.”

  “You’re not a bad weed, Gabe. You’re the most amazing man I’ve ever met.” She leaned into him, lacing her arm around his shoulder and pressing her cheek to his sweaty, musty humid hair. “Why did you have to do that? You scared the shit out of us.”

  He looked at Zoe with that sexy arched brow. “Were you scared for me?”

  “Of course I was!” she said, pressing b
ack the tears. “I thought you were…”

  “Dead?” He cocked his head.

  “No.”

  “Incapacitated?”

  “Maybe.”

  He gave her side eye. “I’m a big boy. I can handle anything.”

  Good God, this man and his belief that he was invincible. “Gabe…” She wanted to tell him how even legends eventually fell, how the greatest, most powerful, athletic, and invincible of men could fail, leaving the ones who love them dealing with pain and sadness and desperation. She wanted to tell him about her father—his idol.

  “What’s wrong, peach?”

  Now wasn’t the time for a full confession, not after what they’d just been through. But soon. She was going to tell Gabe everything soon. “I remember watching my dad play and how scary it was whenever he’d go down. I actually thought for a second there that you weren’t getting up. Why didn’t you just go down, Gabe? It’s better to take a tackle than fight one.”

  “I don’t go down without a fight, you know this.”

  “But you could’ve gotten hurt worse. I thought you’d worked through this need of yours for revenge? You hadn’t pulled a stunt like that until tonight when you just happened to play your old team. Gabe, you have to get over this.”

  He listened but a shadow had fallen over his gaze. “I am over it.”

  “Are you?”

  “Maybe not completely, but you don’t know how far I’ve come,” he said. She remembered his sister’s words about how he’d been the happiest she’d seen him in a long time. “I didn’t fight the takedown for them, peach. It wasn’t revenge. That’s the weird part. I did it for my team. The Bootleggers deserve my 200% after how they’ve taken me in.”

  She listened, her heart lightening up a bit.

  “I did it for Alec’s kids in the audience. Did you see Daniel and Elliot, with their faces painted blue? I did it for Dough who only has this one season left to make it to the Super Bowl, and then his career is over. I have to push, peach. That’s the only way to make it in this world. Never give up.”