Release (Off Balance 3)

"Did you just growl?" Kova asked.

Maybe. "I assume you know everything, too," I said.

"Of course," he answered flippantly. "Your father told me. I told you to stop with that fucking Motrin."

I didn't respond, just hung up on him and threw my phone to the floor. Fucking Russian.

* * *

"What is wrong?" Kova asked behind me.

I didn't answer him, I didn't even look over my shoulder. After a ten-hour day of practice, I got my items together and shoved them into my bag like I was punching someone.

I was still upset that he’d made me take a rest day from practice during such a critical time for me. Nationals were just days away, there was no time for rest. While I may have slept all day yesterday until my alarm went off this morning, I didn't need to. I'd been bored and stewing with annoyance that I’d tried watching television only for my eyes to roll shut before the first commercial.

"I asked you a question," he said. "Are you going to answer me?"

No.

Pulling out my hair tie, I fluffed my dry strands before tying it up in a messy bun. There was so much chalk in my hair that I didn't need to use dry shampoo.

I reached forward and pulled out my sweats and my keys fell to the floor. I ignored them while I slipped my shirt on over my sports bra. When I pushed my head through the neck hole, Kova was standing next to me, jingling my keys in his hand.

I stood and reached for them, but Kova lifted his arm and put them out of my reach. There was no smirk, no hint of laughter. He just stared at me, waiting on an answer. Something came over me, I'm not sure what, and I shoved his chest.

"Give them back," I demanded, seething.

"Why are you so mad?"

"Because you're breathing in front of me." I reached for my keys again, but he lifted his arm higher. "Why do you act like such a child?" My leg twitched as I considered kneeing him in his junk. That would make him drop my keys immediately.

His eyes looked back and forth between mine. "I am just getting on your level. Now, why are you so mad? I thought for sure you were going to throw a block of chalk at me a few times today."

"How observant of you," I said blandly. "Now give me back my keys. I want to go home."

"Talk to me, Adrianna."

My eyes flared. "You don't deserve my time."

"You are still upset about yesterday," he stated. I jumped, trying to reach, but I was too short. "I called you last night to come in for conditioning after hours because I knew how you were going to react, but you never answered."

He had called, but I never heard my phone ring. Of course, knowing now why he’d called only made me angrier, because I would've left my condo in under five minutes if I had known.

Unexplainable red hot rage surged through me and I shoved at his chest again until he fell into the wall. He wrapped his free arm around my lower back and pulled me to him. I drew in a breath, gasping at the closeness of him. A veil of cinnamon and citrus incased my senses, his natural aroma with a hint of tobacco that I hated to love. All the feelings I'd been locking away came roaring back, overpowering me. I fisted his shirt, my chest lifting and falling fast, my head a hazy mess. I needed to back away, but the feel of his body, the warmth, the hardness—I realized I’d missed it so much.

"I was only looking out for you," he said, breathing into me. I shivered. His gaze turned heavy, eyes glossy. "Be mad at me all you want, I do not care, but one day you will see that what I do is only to ever help you and never hurt you." He paused. "The thought of hurting you makes me sick, Adrianna."

"Stop," I murmured. "Don't say that." Staring at his chest, I shook my head vehemently. He wasn't looking out for me, he was looking out for himself, as always. "Please, just give me my keys and let me go," I whispered.

Kova dipped his head next to mine. My lips parted as he got closer. "You are the one holding on to me."

My heart stopped. I was holding onto him. I unclenched his shirt only for him to press his hand into my back. Tension thickened between us and the air grew hot. I swallowed, heart pounding, I fisted his shirt again and leaned my weight into him.

Kova softened a little. "I would never force you to do something against your will," he said near my cheek. "If you want to leave, leave, but I do not think you want to. I think you miss me as much as I miss you, and you hate yourself for it. And you know what? I hate myself every fucking day for wanting you the way I do."

I pulled back and watched his gaze drop to my mouth. I may have been surrendered in his hold, but I was just as dominant as he was. We both had a power over the other that was too lethal, too toxic, too suggestive for our own good.

"Coach."