"Today at the meet when you saw the coach yelling? Please promise me you will never intervene if you see it happen again, not with just him, but anyone. I can see why you would want to, but it is not your place."
I looked down. He was completely right. "I know. I'm sorry."
Kova placed his knuckles under my chin and lifted it until we were eye to eye again. This time we were much closer together.
"The way he was talking to the girl, there was no doubt in my mind he would have stepped up to you and given you the same kind of treatment. Adrianna, I already cannot stand him, but I would have fucking lost it on the piece of shit if he said anything even remotely negative to you. I know I am an asshole, and I can be overbearing and bossy, among other things, but one thing you must not have realized about me is that I am fiercely protective over the ones I care about. All he had to do is say one wrong thing to you and I would have ended up in handcuffs. I am serious, Adrianna. I do not play games like that. Hurt what is mine and there will be consequences."
A reserved smile pulled at my mouth. Kova followed it with his gaze and pulled me closer to him. "You know you just unveiled another piece of yourself, right?" His forehead bunched together. "You care about me."
I didn't think it was possible for him to ever look bashful, but Kova self-consciously shifted in his seat. I caught him. He knew it and he tried to brush it off.
"Of course I care about you." He bristled.
"You said mine, though. You said, 'hurt what is mine.' I think you care about me way more than you let on. Am I yours, Kova?"
His Adam's apple bobbed, and his face contorted into a mixture of revelation and perplexity. I waited with baited breath. This was the first time Kova didn't know how to answer a question.
I watched as he ran his tongue over his lips. Clearing his throat, his voice cracked as he said, "Some things are better left unsaid."
I nodded solemnly.
Leaning in, Kova dropped a hasty kiss to my cheek. "Send me your favorite photo." He double tapped my leg, then he was up and walking toward the door.
"Kova?"
He looked over his shoulder. "I'm going to prove it to you. I'm going to show you that I want it, that you're not wasting your time with me. I'm going to show you that I'm worth it."
His eyes glossed over and he nodded with his chin toward my phone. "I already know you are worth it."
Then he was gone.
Chapter Twenty-Two
I proved it all right.
All month long I used the knowledge I obtained from Kova and the meet and worked my ass off. If I wasn't with my private tutor, or at physical therapy for my calf, I was in the gym. I kept my mouth shut and took everything Madeline and Kova dished out. I didn’t complain or question them. Each of my routines were broken down and I was ripped apart. The coaches videotaped me so I could watch my progress. I consumed more Motrin in one week than I had in a month and I hardly slept. I was mentally and physically exhausted. But I didn't give in or give up.
I wanted this.
Tomorrow is Sunday, which meant the gym would be closed, but I was going to ask if I could start coming in to do extra conditioning. I'd need to beg and plead though since it was also Madeline’s and Kova's day off and no one would be here. I had a few weeks until my first official meet and that wasn't a lot of time to become perfect.
I shoved my wristbands into my duffle bag and my stomach growled. I pulled out a bottle of coconut water, something Kova had introduced me to months ago, and drank half the container. That would hold me over for a bit.
Standing up, I didn't bother to dust the chalk from my thighs or fix my hair. I didn't slip on any pants, I wore only my leotard. The cold tile shocked my bare feet and I felt a zip up my spine as goose bumps broke out on my arms. The lobby was so much colder after practice. Rounding the corner, I headed down the hall to Kova's office, strutting past the locker room with determination in each step.
Taking a deep breath, I exhaled and knocked on his door.
"Yes."
I slipped my hand over the brass knob and opened the door. I hadn't been in his office since the day he pulled me from the meet. I glanced around. Memories assaulted me, both pleasant and horrible as I stood there waiting for his attention.
"What is it, Ria?" he said without even looking up. The lip of his ball cap shielded his view of me.
I stepped inside and shut the door behind me. "How did you know it was me?"
He huffed out a low laugh as he continued writing. "I always know when you are around. I can smell you." I pursed my lips together, bewildered by his response. I know I put deodorant on this morning. "It is not what you think, so relax." He placed his pen down, then folded his arms behind his head and stretched back. The leather chair creaked as his shirt pulled up and his legs widened. I stifled the groan in the back of my throat. I fought hard not to glance down at his rock-solid abs and patch of thin dark hair I knew was there. All month long we were behaving—he was the coach and I was the gymnast, nothing more.
But of course, I just had to look down. I couldn't not. The blue vein driving toward his groin taunted me to look. My gaze lingered for a second and I wondered just how far it went and if it was the vein that wrapped around—