by Lucia Franco
"Banging his wife in his office." I rolled my eyes, trying not to show how hurt I was knowing what Kova was doing—that he would do that—right now.
Hayden's brows shot up and his eyes flickered with mischief. Stepping closer, his breath tickled the curve of my neck. "Meet me in the locker room?" he whispered.
I tilted my head just slightly. A deep blush filled my cheeks.
"Please, Aid. We should talk. Let me explain myself and then we can have a happy ending." He smirked and I got the hint loud and clear.
"Hayden," I whispered. "Anyone could walk in there."
"Come on, let's go."
I stopped him and got serious. "Only if you tell me the truth about you and Reagan. I tell you everything, so it's only fair you tell me about the pills."
He hesitated for a split second, then agreed. "It's not like I sell pills to tons of people." Hayden kept his voice low as we walked toward the lobby. "And I'm not a dealer by any means. I only sell to a handful of people, and one of them is Reagan. She gets Adderall to focus and painkillers I never use."
I looked around nervously. No one could hear us, but I was still paranoid. "Why can't she just go to the doctor to get it herself?"
"Because you can't just walk into a doctor's office and ask for specific medication, and from what she's told me, she's tried and has been refused. I get a small pharmacy of medication every month, so does Holly. I sell Reagan what I have."
We stepped into the lobby and Hayden took my hand in his, pulling me toward the locker room. Drawing closer to Kova's office door, I shot a glance in that direction, my heart instantly dropping into my stomach, twisting into a dozen knots when I heard something fall to the floor. I forced myself to look in the other direction. They weren't loud, but since we were right across the hall, and I knew what was happening, I couldn't stop myself from thinking about it.
Swallowing thickly, I asked, "Does Holly know?"
"No, and she never will."
I shook my head as we stepped into the locker room. "But why, Hayden? Aren't you worried about being caught?"
"I need the money. There's a whole story you don't know about, and I'm not about to go into detail right now." His face hardened, telling me not to push him on the matter. "There was a time when Holly and I had to live with Kova and Katja. They took care of us until my parents and Kova could come to an agreement. We needed money and gymnastics doesn't allow for a part-time job, so I decided to do what I could and started selling my prescriptions."
My brows shot to my hairline. What else in the ever-loving hell went on inside the walls of World Cup that I didn't know about? Hayden and Holly lived with Kova? That was a huge bomb to drop with no time to process it, let alone ask questions.
"I'm not a bad guy," Hayden said, quietly shutting the door and turning the lock I never even knew was there.
"I never took you for a bad guy."
Hayden pushed me up against a wall and his gaze lowered. I left everything outside the locker room in that moment and closed my thoughts off. I had to if I was going to do this. Pressing his body to mine, he said, "I'm not hurting anyone. We need money to live, and this helps out. Did I answer enough questions?"
"I don’t agree with what you're doing, but I get it. I’d just rather not know about it."
"Deal," he said, then slanted his mouth over mine.
"Hayden," I whispered, breaking the kiss. "What if we get caught?"
"Don't worry. We won't. No one will know."
For a split second I got the feeling he'd done this before, but I dropped it because I didn’t want to fight with him again.
Oddly enough, he was prepared, condoms and all. It didn't take us long, maybe five minutes tops from start to finish. I had Hayden take me from behind so he didn't have to see the anguish split across my face. He didn't argue and told me it was his favorite position anyway. It was the definition of a quickie, and it was my first.
I faked it—another first for me. I could've won an award for my acting. As much as I wanted to have an orgasm—I could definitely use it—I knew I wouldn't be able to come once we walked in this room, no matter how much I wanted to. Not with Kova across the hall. I couldn't focus while he was deep inside his wife, even though Hayden was inside of me.
"We should try to sneak in here more often," Hayden said, and I just nodded. I hadn't even been wet and he didn't notice.
We went our separate ways and I chalked up, feeling more tense than relieved and I wanted to scream. I didn't know what I was thinking, but I should've never agreed to go with Hayden. I'd yet to have an orgasm the way I did with Kova and it was starting to bother me. I could hardly get myself off the way he did, so I wasn't sure why this time would be any different.
Fixing my leotard, I climbed onto the tall blocking mats and gripped the high bar. I felt the pull in my shoulders and sighed, feeling good. I inched my way across, chalk dust sprinkled down my face, then I did a pullover so my thighs were resting on the bar.
Rebounding off with my hips, I swung down and performed giant after giant first. I needed that free-floating speed to feel like I was flying so fast that everything I was holding inside was banished from within me. Gymnastics was all about having the courage to hang on but the strength to let go. I wish I knew how to apply that to my personal life.
When I was alone and in my head, it only took me seconds to break down and weaken emotionally when I needed to be brave and strong. Swinging on the high bar gave me just that, and it was why I tried to spend as much time at World Cup as I could. An adrenaline high was rushing through me, making me stronger and bolder…and I loved this feeling. It was one I chased and inhaled into my lungs.
Letting go, I did a flyaway into the pit. I climbed out and got back up, this time getting right to business and completed a double layout. I lost count of the amount of practice dismounts I completed—a blessing, since the last thing I wanted was to keep track of how long Kova was having sex with Katja.
"Now, when you are on the second layout, you are going to clap."
Surprised, I looked up from the foam pit. The devil himself stood with his hands on his hips glaring down at me. My stomach was in knots and I could barely look at him.
"Look who decided to grace me with his presence," I deadpanned.
Kova continued to glare. "On the second layout—"
"Oh, we're going there. Got it." I couldn't believe he was going to act like nothing had happened. I had planned to do that since I was just as guilty for eavesdropping, and more, but the way he walked up and acted like he had done nothing more than grab a drink of water seriously got me revved up.
"Adrianna."
"What?" I snapped. Kova reached down with an opened hand, but I didn't take it. I hid my disgust with both him and myself and got out on my own. I stood in front of him and fixed my leotard. The foam pit always gave me a wedgie.
"On the second—"
"I heard you the first time." I cut him off again. "What do you mean, clap? Like an actual clap?" I'd never heard of that before. I literally pictured a clap.
"Yes, like an actual clap," he said. "When you are flipping, it is sometimes hard to get your hands together because of inertia, but it is a good drill to get your timing right so you know when to start twisting. Once you are in rotation, your body will want to keep going that way. It will take an external force for you to change the direction of that motion, and clapping at your center"—he looked at my torso and pointed to near my belly button—"say right there, will help you with that."
"Huh." You learn something new every day. "Did you learn this in Russia with your lunatic coaches?"
He lowered his eyes, unimpressed. "No, at the Olympic Training Center."
* * *
I pursed my lips together and walked to the chalk bowl, rubbing some chalk onto my hands before getting onto the bar.
I swung up and straightened my arms at my sides until the bar rested on my hips, and visualized a clap on the second layout. I stared down at the
giant pit of square foams. It didn't seem too difficult. Usually my arms were glued to my sides in a double layout.
"Adrianna."
I glanced down my shoulder to where Kova was standing.
"Just do a double. I will call out when you should clap."
I nodded. "That's a good idea."
Casting to a handstand, I swung around the bar twice and let go, listening for his direction. Right at the beginning of my second back flip he yelled, "Now!"
Bringing my hands up to clap was much harder than I anticipated. My stomach tensed and the force of gravity worked against me. I wasn't expecting that.
Landing in the pit, I popped up and reached for his hand. He yanked me out and I nearly flew into him.
"Awkward, right?"
My eyes widened. "Yes. It was kind of a rush."
"But now you have an idea where you need to clap, yes?"
I nodded and turned around. It was going to take a ton of these drills to get the timing right. I could already tell.
"Ah, Adrianna?" I looked over my shoulder just before I added more chalk to my hands. "Let us practice these over there." He hooked a thumb over his shoulder toward the uneven bars. "I do not want you getting used to it on the high bar with so little time to practice."
I followed him and stopped, my back to the low bar. I didn't need to say what I required of him, he knew to hoist me up so I could reach the high bar. Kova stood behind me and placed his hands on my hips. Nothing unusual for a coach to be this close, but the heat coming from him right before he lifted me didn't go unnoticed.
"Are you okay?"
I nodded.
I knew what he meant and that was all the thought I was giving it right now.
Once I was mid-flight, I clapped on the second layout. It was a much different landing than I prepared for and I felt a little shock shoot up my ankle. My form wasn't so great, but that was expected the first time.
I grunted, grabbing my ankle. He picked up the mat and placed it under the bar without having to ask. "Are you in pain?" he asked, bent over adjusting the mat to the right place.
"No." I shook my head, looking past him to the girls on the balance beam. I refused to look at him. I was too embarrassed. Reagan was over there with Holly, Sarah, and Madeline. I stood beneath the bar again, waiting. Coming up behind me, his hands found my hips again. This time they sat lower, his fingers splayed out, softly touching my bikini line, his thumbs just barely above my ass. I drew in a quiet breath and waited until his hands slid up to grasp me.
But they didn't. Kova stepped closer to my backside until I felt the front of his hard body against me. His hot breath rolled down my neck and I swallowed.
"Do not be upset with me. It is not what you think. Far from it," he whispered only for my ears. "I knew you were standing there listening," he added. My heart crashed like dead weight into my gut and I instinctively took a small step forward, but he stopped me by pressing his fingers into my skin. "One day you will understand."
"You are seriously the worst human alive," I said. "You make me regret ever meeting you."
"We do what is required to get through each day to survive. Some days are harder than others, and we may not be able to look at ourselves in the mirror, but we do what we have to do."
My nose flared. He was testing me. I glanced around nervously. We were too close, way too close, and it made my heart rush. Without saying a word, I raised my arms to see what he'd do. Much to my relief, Kova lifted me up, but not how he should have.
He purposely slid me slowly along the front of his body. I fit against his every curve and I held my breath in anticipation. "I did not come," he breathed into my ear.
He wasn't lying. I felt every hard inch of him. I closed my eyes, trying not to feel what he was doing. I wanted to let go of the bar and drop to the floor so I could push and shove and curse him out.
Of course, I didn’t.
His hands slid down my thighs way too seductively, and his fingers grazed the bare skin near my ass. He wanted me to feel him, but I pretended like I didn't and kept my focus trained straight ahead. I bit down on the inside of my lip until I tasted blood and pulled myself up.
Up on the bar, I cleared my mind and visualized the clap to begin, putting my entire being into the skill, and landed without a balance check. It was like my way of saying fuck you, asshole.
"Clap sooner next time." I nodded and padded on more chalk. "You train better when you are angry," he said quietly, standing behind me again.
Anger. Hurt. Hostility. It all made me see things clearly. It also compelled me to focus more.
"You’re a master manipulator. Let us go." I mocked him and raised my arms, waiting to be lifted. He wasn't impressed with my crappy attempt at a Russian accent. I sighed. I had no right to snap considering he was married, but he knew how to get under my skin like no other.
This time when I did the double layout clap, I set my timing sooner and felt a noticeable difference.
"Good. Do that again." Back up on bar and ready to go, I saw Kova crouch down from the corner of my eye. He was in the zone and it was seriously hot seeing him like that. Elbows on knees, he scrutinized me. The moment I landed, he jumped straight up. "Excellent! Just like that. Again."
I didn't want him to see me smile, so I quickly turned around. Seeing him happy that I was able to execute his directions made me insanely ecstatic inside.
We were so toxic yet so perfect together. I wish he hadn’t gone and screwed it up.
This time I mounted the low bar and jumped to the high bar, where I immediately went into a kip, cast to handstand, and swung down. Kova was crouched down again and I felt him watching me, making sure I released at the right time. On my second layout, I clapped where it felt right and landed. I looked at him.
"Again."
He was proud.
Rinse, lather, repeat.
I did so many repetitions of this drill that I lost count. Easily hundreds, and the whole time I didn't utter a word to my coach, I just took his guidance. Hours had gone by and I didn't even notice. The entire time was a rush of endorphins for me. As crazy as it seemed, I loved what I was doing before I realized that most of the gymnasts had left for the day. My wrists were killing me, and my ankle was definitely inflamed, but it was nothing compared to the throbbing pain in my lower back. Probably from the force of the landings.
I sprayed some water onto my grips as Kova walked over to me. "Next time when you clap, I want you to complete a half twist. Only a half twist, though, yeah?"
"Yeah," I said, looking at the chunks of chalk in the giant bowl.
"Do you want me to spot you?"
I paused, thinking about his question and the new skill I was about to perform, one I'd never done in my life. It was probably best if he did.
"That'd be great, Coach."
I rubbed my grips together then clapped my hands. A veil of chalk puffed in front of my face and I turned away. Kova reached out to grab my wrist and pulled me to a stop. For the first real time this afternoon, I let him see how mad I truly was. There was no holding back my disdain, I wore it loud and proud and added resentment as an accessory. Recognition dawned on his face. He knew what he’d done. And the worst part? He didn't give two fucks.
Kova guided to me stand under the high bar. With his hands on my hips, too low again, he angled his head against mine and slowly, obviously, inhaled. Goose bumps broke out on my arms when he allowed a single finger to travel along my bikini line. It was, much to my disappointment, incredibly seductive and I reveled in the way it felt. It'd been so long since I had felt his touch.
"I like when you need me," he said, his voice smooth like vodka. "I also like when you despise me."
"You're delusional."
He chuckled under his breath, then lifted me. Ready to pull the half twist, Kova moved to the side. With one foot propped on the mat, he held his hands up. Anticipation steamrolled through me, but with my coach spotting me, I knew I was safe. Despite everything
, there was a bond, a trust that was too thick to penetrate between us. I knew he'd catch me if I fell.
On the second flip, I clapped and cranked to the left. I had so much power that Kova reached out to guide me safely to a stop so I couldn’t continue the rotation. Landing, I stumbled to the side and fell into his chest. His arms wrapped around and caught me.
"Jesus. I think I pulled too hard. Sorry about that." My eyes were wide and I was breathless.
"Do not ever be sorry. That is what I am here for. Let us do it again. I will stand here the whole time until you get it right. I knew it would be awkward at first."
Panting, I couldn't look at him after that one. Too much animosity and adrenaline sped through me to accept his candid sincerity. He was being nice, and I didn't like it. Perhaps that was because he was rarely nice to me unless he was inside me. This side of Kova was one I wasn't used to and I didn't know how to accept it without being a bitch to him.
After an endless amount of repetitions, literally over hundreds of the clap and half twist, the gym was now empty and the sun had set. Upon my request, we stayed an hour longer than scheduled so I could start with the full twist tomorrow. I was insanely tired and sore, and I couldn't wait to go home and crash.
Kova walked over to where I sat while I removed my grips and wristbands. He shifted on his feet.
"I'm completely depleted. I feel like I won't even be able to drive home at this rate," I said and dropped the gear into my bag.
"I will drive you."
"No, thanks. I'd rather have an Uber serial killer driver take me before I get into a car alone again with you."
"Suit yourself."
I walked out to the parking lot and climbed into my car. Slamming my truck door shut with more vigor than necessary, the light dimmed and I was encased in darkness, still parked in front of World Cup.
I pulled my cell phone out and did an Internet search of the Russian Kova spoke earlier to Katja. It had been bothering me and I wish I knew what he’d said to her.
I wish I had never looked.
He calls me malysh, but she was his beloved.
All it took was the weight of the word and the loneliness of the silence in the night surrounding me to break down two seconds later. Uncontrollable hot tears streamed down my cheeks while I cried my eyes out against my steering wheel, replaying Kova's last words. His tone said he was sorry, I could feel it in the pit of my stomach, but the "my beloved" part was crushing. I couldn't wrap my head around the words he’d said to me or why he even would speak them in the first place if he was calling his wife his beloved. I was missing a part of the story. I knew it from the pieces of their conversation I’d overheard. But he’d told me he was sorry and said he didn't come. People didn't act that way unless they were guilty, unless they were angry and couldn't communicate what they truly felt. I wasn't going to give him an excuse, but it was almost like he was mad and projecting.
