"I meant to text you but I forgot. I figured if it was at a meet and your parents were there that you wouldn't be that stupid to try anything."
"You forgot," I retorted in a flat tone, shaking my head. Unbelievable. "You forgot."
"What difference does it make if you're being a good little girl anyway?"
"It just does!" I yelled. "This is huge, Ave. I can't believe you forgot!" I was legitimately shocked to the core my best friend didn't notify me of this revelation sooner. A text would've taken ten seconds.
"Well, believe this."
Click.
I pulled my phone away and stared down at the blank screen. She hung up on me. Avery hung up.
I didn't think I was being unjust, and I also didn't think I deserved her blasé attitude either. If the roles were reversed, I would've had her back and got in touch with her as soon as I could. She let months slide by, months I could've prepared a believable lie.
Fury ignited my blood and I chucked my phone into the passenger seat. Tears burned the back of my eyes. My jaw trembled. I covered my face and threw my head back. Stars danced in front of my vision and my hands trembled from the anger bubbling inside of me. Avery should have messaged me immediately when she overheard.
I got out of my truck and marched around the front to the passenger side and opened the door. I bent down, searching for my phone, my hand skimming under the bucket seat until I found it. Sonofabitch. The screen was shattered and it wouldn't turn on. I would need to call Mom and have her order me a new one quickly.
I strode inside World Cup and went straight for the therapy rooms in the back, where I found Kova speaking to a man near one of the blue tables, both had their backs to me.
"Hey," I said softly, announcing myself. When they turned around, I stopped short.
Whoever this man was, he was drop dead gorgeous. I raked a stare down his sun kissed body. Khaki shorts and a fitted polo shirt clung to his tall frame. He had long, dirty blond hair that held a thick wave. It folded at his neck and cupped his tanned face. The lengthy stubble on his jaw was the same dirty blond shade, and he had no mustache. And his eyes, while not as spellbinding as Kova’s, his blue eyes could rival the clearest ocean.
This man was a quintessential surfer. I bet he smelled like sun and salt water. I couldn't stop gawking. Have mercy on his rugged handsomeness.
Kova cleared his throat.
I shifted my wide eyes to him. His brows furrowed and he stared right at me, not fond of my blatant assessment of the man next to him.
He cleared his throat again and I stepped forward until I was in front of them. I was right…the man reminded me of the beach.
"Adrianna, this is an old friend of mine, Dr. Ethan Hart."
I held up my hand and waved. Waved, like a freaking moron. "Hi."
"Dr. Hart—"
"Kova." His voice was hoarse, like he could cut glass. "Cut the shit with the formalities. We've been friends for too long."
Kova laughed under his breath. "Ethan is an orthopedic surgeon. He drove up from the Keys to observe me perform the Graston Technique on you today."
That was an awful long drive for a favor. "You came all the way here for that?" I looked at Mr. Rugged Handsome.
"I wanted to make sure I was performing it correctly," Kova answered for him.
"Not confident in your capabilities?" I smirked. "Performance anxiety?"
Kova's eyes glimmered, his nostrils flared. I could tell by the twist of his lips he wanted to say something.
His friend barked out a laugh and glanced at Kova. "I don't know how you do it, man."
Kova side-eyed him, his twisted lips curving even more. "A lot of vodka, that is how."
His friend chuckled again, then looked at me. "Even though Kova is now licensed, and I have no doubt he could do whatever he puts his mind to, the first few times are nerve wracking. Having a trained professional by your side helps. I've been doing this therapy for many years and I'm constantly traveling to do this on pro athletes down in Miami. So when Kova called me, I got here as soon as I could."
My eyes shifted to Kova and I nodded. He was a perfectionist through and through. He aimed to be the best. I guess I shouldn't be surprised he called in a professional like Dr. Hart.