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.