Page 7 of Go Deep

An excellent plan.

No more questions, no more lies.

Chapter 4

Gabe

Ice-cold water assaults my empty stomach, cooling my throat but not making a dent in my body temperature. The heat is oppressive at Rockwell University, where training camp is being held this year, and these two-a-days are murder.

My vision blurs, eyes stinging with every drop of sweat drizzling down my face. I rotate my right arm, but the knot won’t unravel. It’s too damn tight. I need Colin Mercer, the team doctor, to rub it out with his magic fingers or it’ll be so stiff, I won’t even be able to wave hello to the fans who’ve braved the heat to watch us practice. I can barely twist my head to look for him. I hope he finds me before I melt out here.

I pant just watching my teammates tear their way up and down the field. The air is so heavy, it’s barely breathable. I guzzle another bottle of water. A shower would be heaven.

Choppy thoughts heading toward the very carnal loop through my mind. A shower, yes. A steamy one shared with Vince Castro, in his naked, muscular glory, soaped up and staring at me with those sexy, deep-set eyes…

Jesus, I must be delirious or something. Even on the brink of dehydration, I can still obsess over a hot as fuck guy. Forget that said guy isn’t even gay.

Yeah, that was a curveball out of left field. How the hell did I misjudge that situation? The signs were glaring… or maybe I wanted to convince myself they were real to justify my insta-lust.

I’d never be so brazen with a guy unless I was convinced he was gay, and dammit, I could have sworn he had me stripped down to nothing in his mind. There was heat. I felt the connection. Hell, the spark hit my groin and all but exploded.

And then…girlfriend.

I know I’m off my game. It’s been a crappy few months, preceded by an even worse several years, and I need to get my head screwed on before the season starts.

“Gabriel!” A thick hand slaps my shoulder. Yep, the bad one.

I wince when a sharp, searing pain explodes down my arm. “Doc, are you trying to put me in traction before the season starts?”

“How can you already be hurt? You haven’t even been sacked.” Colin massages my rotator cuff. “Let me rub it out for you, and then we’ll give it some heat.”

I follow Colin off the field, my eyes scanning the stands. The stadium crowd is light today. Only the die-hards are willing to put up with the suffocating sunshine.

Not fucking worth the risk of heat stroke, people.

We walk into the underbelly of the stadium and duck into one of the trainer rooms. A blast of cold air chills me for a blissful second, and I can breathe again. I stretch out on one of the cushioned tables, the cool pleather somewhat refreshing against my sun-burned skin.

Colin’s skillful hands attack the knot, kneading it intosubmission. Pure fucking magic. “How are you holding up? How’s your mom?”

I let out a deep breath, hoping to release all the stress, tension, and sadness. Instead, I only end up releasing carbon dioxide. The emotions remain bottled up, remorse coloring every day. So much time wasted, time I’ll never get back, memories I’ll never have. Forced to focus on my career when I really wanted to focus on my family, to make things right before the opportunity slipped away.

I’d spent so much time lamenting… wishing I’d been happy with Julia, wishing I was still the son my dad had been proud of for so long, wishing for the peace I knew would never come.

Now he’s gone.

And I could be next.

Fear plagues me, taunting me on a daily basis, daring me to accept the risks and take control of my life once again — though what remains is a mystery.

I still haven’t made the call to Dr. Andrews. I don’t know if I ever will.

“Loaded questions.” I wince as he applies more pressure to the muscle. “My finances are in shambles. My portfolio took a major hit because my investment manager completely fucked up and stuck my money in the highest possible risk category. Then all the medical bills for my dad bit out another chunk. My mom is a mess, trying to deal with life after my dad and the debts he left.”

A pulsing sensation vibrates my shoulder muscles. Heat infiltrates the knots, loosened by Colin’s massage. It flows down my arm, soothing every fiber. Instant relaxation and a nice, albeit temporary, distraction. But pretty soon, reality will bludgeon me once again.

It always does.

“What about Shane?”

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