by Lucia Franco
Kova tightened his embrace. "You had already begun to affect me." His breath tickled my skin. "I could not stop what I already felt for you and it fucked with my head every day, because every day my need for you grew. Calling you malysh felt so natural that it just slipped out. I was shocked and could not believe I’d said it, especially in public. I knew I had to fix it, even if you did not know the meaning, and what I said after came out harsher than I meant it to, but that was because I was so upset with myself for slipping."
"I’d always wondered why that happened, why you called me malysh, I mean."
"Truthfully," he said, "I could not believe it even came out of my mouth. I am always so controlled, meticulous with everything I do, but there has been something about you since day one that threw everything off balance for me. I am reckless when it comes to you. I do not think but instead move on feeling. I know when you need me, and I know when you are looking for me. Me and you… What you make me feel… What we have, it is maddening. Do not deny that it is not the same for you."
The same for me.
"You're one hundred percent right," I whispered, terrified to open up to him. Yet, the tension loosened from my limbs and I relaxed under his hold. I nestled into Kova's chest and brought my knees up, and he hugged me.
"So, malysh," he said, his voice thick with raw emotion. "You can see why I understand how that came out naturally for you, as it did for me. I want you to finish that sentence."
I turned my head to the side in shock and glanced up. Kova gave me a daring look. Our faces were so close. This man was certifiable. No chance in hell was I finishing my sentence.
"No."
"Finish it," he demanded. His heady stare pierced my heart.
I shook my head vehemently. "I can't."
"I will never understand why I put up with your little demands the way I do…" he repeated, initiating our conversation from just before.
I shook my head again. My heart raced so fast that every time I took a deep breath, Kova’s forearm rose with my chest.
"Please don't," I said. My cheeks felt like they were swelling from the heat that had crept under my skin. If I said it, then it took us a step further. I wasn't sure if I could handle that.
"Pozhaluysta," he said, and for once, I knew the meaning. Please.
"Why?" I asked.
"For reasons I cannot explain." He waited a few seconds, then said, "Why do I put up with your little demands?"
The same reason I put up with his, and he knew it.
I licked my lips nervously and found the courage I needed to get the words out. "Because…" I stammered. "Because…you…love me."
Kova's eyes flashed with emotion that took my breath away. His lips parted just subtly.
"Again," he rasped. Now it was his turn to breathe deeply. We moved together.
"Because you love me," I said softly.
Kova leaned down and slowly bridged the distance between our lips. I held my breath as he grew closer, until he gave me the softest kiss imaginable.
He hovered above me, the tangible air thick with unspoken words that would never see the light of day. They'd stay between us. He panted as he pressed his lips against mine. Even the simplest action made the world fade away, allowing the true chemistry between us to grow even more. When it was just me and Kova and not the outside world to influence us, he put himself out there to show me who he was. Even if it was just a simple look, the embrace of his arms, an action that expressed his secrets, I saw him, and I understood him. Just like he understood me. Saying he loved me was the equivalent to malysh for him.
Kova broke the kiss but he didn't pull away. Damn his eyes and the way he looked at me. The smoldering heat split my heart open.
"I should go," I whispered.
"No, stay." He pressed his fingers down into me. "We do not have to talk anymore, but at least let me work those knots out for you. You will sleep better because of it."
God, the urgency in his voice and the look of dread in his eyes were hard for me to deny. I had to wonder if admitting his love for me was as intimidating for him as it was for me.
"Okay."
"Spasibo," he said. "Let me do it right. I will go grab the salve from the other room. Take the shirt off and lay on your stomach. I will be right back."
Kova released me and I stood up. I watched him leave his office, his gait marked with determination, his shoulders reminiscent of a tiger.
I did as he asked, then held his shirt to my chest, questioning myself as to why I was staying in the first place. Leaving would be the wisest decision.
Lying face down on his couch, I sighed at the softness and realized just how tired I really was. I folded my arms and pulled them up to my ribs. Kova was back in a few short minutes. He positioned himself behind me, squatting with one knee on each side without lowering his weight.
The moment his hands touched my shoulders, my eyes closed. A heavenly breath rolled off my lips from the blissful touch of his skilled fingers. He knew exactly how to target the tension and knead it away precisely.
"We should do these more often," he suggested.
"I'll make sure to pencil you in." I joked. "I hardly have time to shower, you know." The thought of finding time for a massage was tiring in itself.
"The life of an athlete."
"Tell me about it."
Kova dug deep and pressed hard and I moaned from the pressure. I loved it so much.
"There is a lot of tension. Let me know if I am hurting you."
"You're not. I like it harder…" I hummed in pleasure. "It feels good. Like when you press slow but deep, it feels the best."
Kova's hands paused, and it caught my attention. I felt the telltale signs of concealed laughter.
"What?" I asked, trying to peer over my shoulder.
He stifled a chuckle. "You say my Russian is showing, but sometimes you do not even realize what you say."
I thought about what I’d said, and how it could be taken any other way when it finally hit me. Fuuucccckkkk. Talk about delayed reaction. God, I was so stupid today.
"Oh, hell." I laughed, mortified. I covered my face. I like it harder…it feels good. "I wasn't thinking."
"Obviously. Anything that is innocently spoken to a man is never taken that way at first. Remember that."
"Believe me, I will now."
The quiet solitude of the room ensued, and I smiled to myself, happy that my plans for the night changed. I knew the moment I walked into my empty condo I would break down and cry myself to sleep. I’d felt it during practice and I almost looked forward to it. But now I felt lighter, more optimistic. My chest didn't hurt, and I could breathe a little easier. I didn't feel like crying anymore, and I was so happy about that. I hated crying.
I felt like Kova had worked out my issues without even knowing he did.
Days like this got to me. Days when Kova knew what I needed without me having to say anything. When he saw the underlying issue, could feel it trying to burst from me, and then took measures into his own hands to help me. There'd been countless times this had happened. When he saw what I needed when no one else had, and he gave it to me fully.
To live in this outrageous, intense and hectic world of elite gymnastics, everyone needed a lifeline. Someone they could hang on to when times were tough, when life felt all-consuming or the future seemed bleak, they could see the crash coming before anyone else and be there. We all had that one go-to person who we relied on when it didn't make sense to anyone except them. Who accepted all our flaws and imperfections.
Kova was my lifeline whether I wanted to admit it or not. I didn't want to drown. I wanted to stay afloat, and he was my ultimate salvation. I clung to him.
He was controlling, but I was selfish. Had I ever once given him what he needed? Even once?
I didn't want to think about my answer.
I opened my eyes, tired and a little disoriented. Yawning, I glanced around the dim room trying to figure out where I was and why I was so st
iff.
Across from me, Kova was asleep in his leather desk chair. His legs were spread wide with one leg straight and the other bent, his jaw was propped up on his fist, and still only in his netted shorts and nothing else. I watched him for a few moments, quietly taking him in. My gaze dipping to each feature of his handsome face when I noticed the tension knitted between his blackish brows. Unforgiving lines pulled at the corners of his eyes, his thick lashes laying in half moon crescents on his cheeks. Even while he slept, he had something on his mind.
Kova stirred, his eyes moving beneath his lids. He drew in a deep breath and exhaled. He must've felt me staring at him.
"Hey," I said. He gave me a lazy smile that was so damn hot. "I can't believe I fell asleep. You should've woken me up."
"You looked like you needed the rest. I did not want to wake you."
Early morning sleepy voice was sexy on Kova.
"But don't you need to go home?"
"Do not concern yourself with that. You looked like you were struggling yesterday with something. I wanted to be there for you, even if it was just for you to sleep."
I frowned, half grateful, half confused. What kind of wife was Katja for not tracking her husband down, let alone letting him sleep somewhere else? It made no sense to me.
"What time is it?" I asked.
Kova glanced at his wrist. I had the sudden urge to go to him and sit on his lap. I wanted to burrow myself into his warmth, feel our bare chests pressed together, and go back to sleep.
"It is almost five," he said.
Reaching above his head, he stretched his arms behind him. The Olympic rings tattoo I loved so much on his ribs contracted with each pull and shift of his fit body. He watched me watch him. I didn't think I'd ever grow tired of staring at him.
"How does your back feel?"
I thought about the agony I was in yesterday and if I felt the same this morning. I offered him a small smile. "It's okay. Not nearly as bad as before."
My bladder was about to burst as I sat up. "I need to get going… I have my appointment today that I can't be late for." I yawned again. "I can't believe how long I slept. I feel like I could sleep until tomorrow."
Kova nodded and stood, the cracking of his knees echoed throughout his office. He turned around and laced his fingers together behind his head and stretched once more. I lusted after his muscular back as it flexed with power, then I dropped my gaze to the two little dimples above his butt. Konstantin Kournakova was a walking, breathing Russian god. The urge to wrap myself around him was even stronger now, but I glanced away and slipped his shirt on.
"It's freezing in here. Aren't you cold?"
"No," he said through light laughter. "You do not know cold until you have been to Russia. It is bitter there."
A tired smile formed on my face. He was probably right. "Do you miss it?"
"Miss what?"
"Russia."
Looking into my eyes, he contemplated his answer. "Yes. I have not been back in a very long time. I would love to go back sometime in the near future, just not to live."
"Why not to live?" I asked, curious.
He rolled his bottom lip between his teeth before answering me. "There is nothing there for me anymore. Everything I want is right here."
My stomach sank to the floor, a sign to get moving.
Gymnastics. Katja. Me. Possibly in that order.
I felt like this was another one of those push questions, and I wasn't up for that, just like I hadn’t been earlier. There were too many likelihoods and not enough energy left to handle them.
He must've sensed my indecision, because he continued.
"Let me rephrase. Everything I want is right here in this room."
All the air left my lungs. I blinked a few times then stood up with my duffle bag in hand. I shot a quick prayer up to God to slow down my pounding heart.
"I'll see you tomorrow. Thank you for everything," I said, and added a small smile to seal my words.
He nodded. "Hang on. Let me give you something."
My forehead furrowed in wonder as I watched Kova unlock his filing cabinet and reach all the way to the back behind all the folders.
My lips parted over what he produced.
"Read it later."
Thirteen
Our notebook.
I'd forgotten all about it, but then it dawned on me. I walked over to him.
"Wait. Where did you get this? Last I remembered, I put it in my nightstand."
He relocked the cabinet and handed it to me. "I noticed it when I was at your place on my birthday. You did not seem too keen on giving it back to me any time soon, so I took it. I had some things I needed to get off of my chest."
I glanced down at the notebook, wondering what he’d written and when he’d done it. What he needed to get out.
"I don't even remember the last thing I wrote in this."
Kova grinned and his eyes flashed with amusement. "It was…colorful to say the least." His smile grew. "Go back and read it when you get a moment. I did not expect those words to come from your lips, that is for sure. Cannot say I did not deserve them either. I quite liked that side of you."
Oh man. My mind raced back to when I last had it in my possession and what the hell I wrote. I flipped the pages open but Kova stopped me.
He was right, I had to go. Nodding, I said, "I'll talk to you after my appointment?"
His head tilted to the side. Kova regarded me. I could hardly see the brilliant emerald color of his eyes. Finally, he nodded.
Clutching the spiral notebook to my chest, I readjusted the strap of my duffle bag, gripping it tight in my hand. I left his office and threw the bag and notebook in the back seat of my truck. I couldn't wait to see what he wrote.
Late into the afternoon, I sat on the patient table listening to the doctor go over my results from the ultrasound she'd just done on my Achilles.
By some miracle, and much to my surprise, I hadn't had any new tears, just the same micro-tears as before that were a little deeper, along with some inflammation. I couldn't believe it. I thought for sure I'd torn it.
"You seem shocked," the doctor said.
"That's because I am. I thought I’d torn something more, or worse. It was really bad. I could hardly walk. I was prepared to put up a fight."
"Well, you aren't far from tearing your Achilles completely. All that tightness and burning you feel is due to overuse, which is completely normal for an athlete of your stature given the sport you play. Once the season is over, I highly suggest we schedule surgery to repair the tears and give your injury the proper time to heal. I don't see you lasting another season with this. It's better to repair it while we can, which means less healing time if you tear it completely."
I sat staring unblinking at the doctor. After this season, after the Olympics, if I made it that far, I was supposed to start dialysis. After this season, I considered college. After this season, I wanted to still try to compete.
I could feel the blood draining from my face, feel the cold seeping into my bones at what my future held. I didn't like it.
The doctor regarded me. "Is everything okay?"
My jaw bobbed. "Ah, yeah, it's fine. I just recently discovered I'll need dialysis after the season too, and I was thinking about how I'm supposed to fit in a surgery on top of that now. Eventually I'm going to need a transplant down the line," I said. Lines formed between her eyes. "I have stage four kidney disease."
This time the doctor’s brows rose to her hairline and her eyes widened. "You have stage four kidney disease, and you're still competing?" I nodded and she whistled under her breath. "I wouldn't worry yourself about how you'll be able to fit it all in. Given the declining state of your health, I'd meet with your team of doctors and devise a plan. It's manageable."
My shoulders sagged. Relief coursed through me and I smiled. "Thank you."
"If you're not on dialysis yet, are you on medication? Steroids?"
"Oh, yes. I take a lot of p
ills a day just to get through it."
I reached into my purse and pulled out the notecard listing my medications. I handed it to the doctor and her eyes scanned over it. Dad had said the doctor might ask what I was taking and to bring the paper instead of having to carry the bottles. It was a good idea.
"Do you have an infection? You're on a few antibiotics."
I nodded. "I have a kidney infection. A bad one I was told." I blinked when it hit me. My jaw fell open. "I'm so stupid! I've had terrible pain in my back to the point that I've been sick to my stomach. I completely forgot I have a kidney infection. I thought it was a side effect of the medications or lack of appetite I've had." I shook my head to myself, feeling so dumb that I forgot about this. "I can't believe I forgot," I said out loud.
"It's natural for something to slip your mind given your situation, especially in your position. Don't beat yourself up over it. That being said, I would highly suggest you be in constant contact with your specialist and let the doctor know of the pain you're dealing with. If you're on medication, the infection should've started to clear up by now. Also, you can't take steroids a week before any platelet injection, should you need another, so we'll have to plan for that. You're on a few right now."
My teeth worried my bottom lip. I hadn't thought of that and now I felt even more stupid for not thinking about it beforehand. I just knew not to take the anti-inflammatory medications.
I was in over my head.
The doctor suggested I continue the blading sessions with Kova as needed, and the typical ice therapy I dreaded. She reminded me to stay away from Motrin, and I promised to make an appointment once the season was over should everything continue the way it was.
Easy-peasy.
Once I was back in my truck, I dialed up Dad to tell him about the pain in my kidneys and how bad it's been. I had promised him not to leave anything out. He called Dr. Kozol on another line while I waited. After three minutes, he came back and told me to go see him immediately.
An hour later I was sitting in front of the doctor. A kindness surrounded him that was very welcoming and made me feel at ease. I'd already given a urine sample, had blood drawn, and had a new ultrasound done on my kidneys right when I came in. The technician took photos and measured the size of my kidneys and heart. I watched the screen as she moved the wand around, trying to see anything but all I saw were black and white masses everywhere that ballooned and then shrunk. I had no idea what I was looking at.
