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Madden’s eyes lost that darkness for a few long seconds as he said, “And I’m sorry, but delivering a baby like you did is beyond my scope of heroicness. You did good, man.”

I rolled my eyes. “I did what I had to. And you would have, too.” I paused. “I’m never going to bring it up again unless you do, but thank you. Thank you, even though you’re not really the one to thank.”

Madden’s eyes filled with understanding. “I miss my kid. But I’m glad that you’re here.”

Together we walked out of the hospital.

Me with the heart of his son beating away in my chest. Him with his heart proverbially ripped out now that his son was gone.

CHAPTER 25

What size jeans do you wear?

Jeggings.

-Mavis to Murphy

MAVIS

“Damn, baby. You have a really nice snatch.”

At hearing those words, I couldn’t stop the reaction that poured out of me.

Dropping the bar in the middle of my set—resulting in a no rep—I turned around and ran at the man that held my heart.

He’d been isolated in the hospital since his surgery due first to the blood clot in his brain, then to an infection in the surgical site.

Then there was a setback on his heart, and there was a moment in time that we feared that he might reject the heart.

Which led to now.

I hadn’t been aware that he was being let out of the hospital.

I also hadn’t been aware that he’d be stopping by during a workout seeing as he’d been trying very, very hard not to admit that he’d gotten one of his good friend’s hearts.

A heart of a person that meant a lot to him.

Slowing before I bowled him over, I curved my arms oh, so carefully around Murphy’s middle, and settled my head to the left of his chest.

It was still sore.

It was six weeks after his transplant, and he was just now getting to the point where he could walk around for any amount of time.

And apparently, he was using that ‘little amount of time’ right then, visiting me during a workout. Likely straight out of the hospital.

“How did you get here?” I cried.

Why was I crying?

I didn’t know.

I guessed it was likely due to the fact that I’d never thought I’d see him again here. That the last time I saw him here would be his last.

But he was here, and I was over the freakin’ moon.

“I caught a ride,” Murphy paused. “Madden came to get me.”

I blinked, surprised, and leaned back until I could see Murphy’s face.

“What?” I asked.

He patted me on the ass. “Finish your workout. Then we can go and talk all you want. At home. In our own bed.”

I swallowed hard.

Then let go of him, even though there wasn’t a single piece of me that wanted to finish my workout.

Hell, I hadn’t even wanted to be here in the first place.

This place just wasn’t the same anymore.

And it had everything to do with losing Jasper, and almost losing Murphy.

It was just really hard for me to find joy in this place any longer.

At least, that was likely only a small part of it.

I was depressed.

The last six weeks had physically drained me.

I’d started back to work—after a very large reprimand from my superior and a promise that if I ever did that again, I would be immediately fired—and spent my time worrying about Murphy. At the hospital with Murphy. At home with Vlad who was still rather annoyed with anything that came at my hand.

Or, on the off chance that it was possible seeing as I now suffered with insomnia, slept.

But that was pretty rare at this point.

That’d been why I’d come back to the gym today.

I was desperate.

I wanted a nap.

I wanted to be able to sleep for at least four hours.

I…I wanted a break.

“Go, before you run out of time on this set,” Murphy urged.

I reluctantly pulled away from him all the way and turned around to my bar.

I had to get three snatches in thirty seconds at a pretty decent weight.

I’d rather lie down on the ground and close my eyes and sleep.

But when Murphy sat down on the stack of forty-five pound weights that were stacked up in the middle of the room—definitely not for my use—and watched me with avid eyes, I found myself pulling energy out of some place inside of me that I hadn’t been aware I stored—or had any left to use.

“Go,” he urged.

I set my feet and started my lifts all over again, finding myself blushing at the intensity of his eyes.

He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, and watched with avid fascination.

“You’re hands need to be just a tad wider,” he said when I finished my last set.

I rolled my eyes, then burst out laughing, catching the attention of our coach for today.

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