Balance (Off Balance Book 1) (21 page)

“Take a deep breath.”

The cool liquid poured over my hand and I inhaled loudly, throwing my head back. White-hot pain shot through me and I almost blacked out. Tears coated my eyelashes but they didn’t stream down my cheeks, and I clenched my teeth so hard I was sure I was seconds away from chipping one.

“Hayden, please,” I begged. My hand shook violently under his hold. My fingers tried to curl up again, but Hayden held them open as he rubbed around the rips.

“Shhh...It’s all right. We’re almost done,” he said apologetically. Hayden rinsed my hand again and plucked off any dead skin he missed with the nail clippers.

“I think I need another shot...Or an entire bottle. Make that two bottles before you do the other hand.”

He laughed, his back vibrating against my cheek. “I’m pretty sure you’d die if you drank two bottles of vodka.”

“I’ll take my chances. It can’t be worse than this.”

Shutting the water off, Hayden turned around and I stepped away from him. My jaw dropped when I looked at my trembling hand. It looked like raw meat.

“We need to let it air dry before we put anything over it for the night,” Hayden instructed.

“Do you think that’s a good idea? To put stuff over it? Shouldn’t I cover it during the day and let it breathe at night?” He looked at me like I should know the answer. “I’ve never done this before, Hayden, so I have no idea what to do.”

Hayden’s eyes softened. Using the pad of his thumb, he wiped away one lone tear. “Don’t cry,” he said sympathetically. The gesture was sweet and for some reason made me tear up even more. My jaw quivered and my chin dropped to my chest. I hated this, this pain, these emotions, this sport. I hated it all and wished it would go away. There was no way I could go through something like this again. If Kova made me do any kind of bar work tomorrow or in the next few days, I would straight up murder him.

Hayden pulled me into a hug. Cradling my hand to my chest, I leaned into him and let the tears fall. Screw fighting it. This kind of torture would bring a grown man to his knees.

Exhaustion suddenly consumed me and I let out a loud sigh. “I’m sorry for crying.”

He rubbed my back in circles and his hips dropped to the counter to sit. “Want to know a secret?”

“You seem to have a lot of secrets, Hayden.”

He laughed. “The first time I had rips this bad, my mom had to take care of them the way I just did for you. I cried. Like a little, fucking baby, I cried and sobbed into her hard and she had to hold me afterward. It was embarrassing and I never forgot it. Since then, I’ve made sure to do everything humanly possible to avoid rips to this capacity ever again. I know it’s inevitable, but I do try and I know you will too from here on out. I’ll help you and show you what to do to toughen your skin up a bit more. Once your palms heal and new skin grows over, you’ll need to pumice them every day. I feel your pain, Adrianna. I do, babe. And I’m sorry I had to cause you more.”

I let his words sink in and relaxed a little into his body. For someone who was built with as much muscle as he was, Hayden was unexpectedly soft.

He dropped a friendly kiss to the top of my head and then said, “Let’s take care of your other hand. Lucky for you, it isn’t that bad off, so it shouldn’t be as painful.”

Shouldn’t, being the key word.

W
hen I first moved to Cape Coral in March, I worried I’d be a little lonely, even though I was ready for more freedom. But with the training and long hours, and getting accustomed to my new life, I hadn’t had time to actually feel alone. I guess it was a good thing. Weeks flew by, and before I knew it, summer training arrived. With no more school, it was train, train, train every minute of every day.

From what I’d heard, the members of World Cup and the coaches got together each year and had a Fourth of July barbecue. It was their way of bringing the team and coaches together and blow off a little steam. This year it was held at Kova’s impressive two-story home that overlooked the Caloosahatchee River. Considering he was from Russia, I found it amusing he would host a holiday that celebrated America’s Independence.

With the help of GPS, Alfred drove me to his house. Reagan and Sarah had arrived at the same time as me, and we walked in together, without saying a word except to exchange pleasantries before going on our separate ways. They walked toward the grand windows that overlooked the river to where other people were outside, but I knew the first thing I needed to do was greet the host. Manners went a long way, and my mom always made sure we were courteous.

Kova’s house was much bigger than I anticipated. He had a large, open floor plan and I wasn’t sure which way to go first. From the amount of parties we had back home, it was a given the host would be in the kitchen prepping, so that’s where I headed off to. I followed the sound of voices and water running and found the kitchen. As I drew closer, a pan clattered to the tile floor and I jumped. Faint, hushed voices filtered the air and I scrunched my brows trying to figure out who they belonged to. Rounding the corner, I knew for sure one was Kova, the other, I did not. My chest drew tight when I realized I walked in on Kova and a stunning brunette having an obvious argument. Kova’s jaw dropped then snapped back together, his arms flexed at his sides. The woman’s face faltered when the bitter bite of low words were exchanged from Kova. The tension was so thick between them it was suffocating. I couldn’t make out what was said since it was in Russian, but whatever it was couldn’t have been good because she looked on the verge of tears. Kova turned and forcefully threw something into the sink, and it rebounded around the stainless steel. He placed his hands on the ledge and leaned over, his eyes clenched shut. The woman placed a comforting hand to his shoulder only for him to shrug it off. Her face dropped and she threw her hands in the air, muttering under her breath and sauntered away.

I receded quickly before they saw me, but stood near the wall wondering what happened between them. I’d never seen Kova so worked up before. Sure, he was a dick at practice, but seeing it outside of the gym was not something I expected. I just figured he was that way because he was trying to bring out the victor in us. Maybe it really was just his personality.

I needed to find some friends to talk to quickly only to realize I didn’t have many here.

I heaved a sigh. I still felt a bit like an outcast among the rest of the team. They were nice, but mostly reserved and kept to themselves. Very cliquey. I probably should’ve made more of an effort to be friends with someone other than Hayden and Holly, but it wasn’t something I was pushing for. I came here to train, to be the absolute best I could be and gain the title of elite. Not to win Miss Congeniality.

Trying to befriend Reagan had been a challenge. I wasn’t any competition to her, she was an amazing athlete and much better than me. She knew it, and I knew it. So I wasn’t sure what the issue was. There was just no friendship with her, I was on my own. Sometimes I liked it, but most of the time it was frustrating when you wanted a friend to vent to who understood what you were going through. Maybe if I had pushed for it, I wouldn’t have been standing by myself, staring at…I had no idea what the hell I was staring at. A shrine?

Before me hung medals upon medals, framed photos, trophies, articles galore. You name it, it was here. And it was all about Kova. This was something only a proud mother would do, so I found it oddly bizarre a man of his stature would have his own hall of fame in his home.

Then again, I hadn’t accomplished what Kova had, not even remotely close, so I guess I shouldn’t really say anything. I could only hope. I’d probably have the same thing in my house. Hell, I had medals from competitions displayed in my condo right now.

Moving closer, my fingers grazed one of the gold medals, my heart yearning for one. Just one. God, what I wouldn’t do to have a beauty like this of my own one day. I’d probably never take it off. Well, maybe to sleep and shower, but that was it.

Kova had three gold medals and a handful of silver from two Olympics, the rings being his top event. I chuckled to myself. He probably hated the silver ones.

“What is so funny?”

I jumped, my hand flying to my racing heart. I looked behind me and saw Kova holding a glass of beer.

“Jesus!”

A sensual grin pulled his full lips to the side. His eyes softened and I swallowed. Totally different side of him from what I’d seen earlier when I walked in on the spat he was having. He seemed relaxed now, not tense. This man’s beauty was in a league of its own. He was charismatic when he smiled, and I could feel his goodness. A rare occurrence, and it was times like these I forgot he was my coach.

Kova looked incredibly amazing in his navy blue dress pants and crisp white button-down shirt. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, a silver watch with a large face adorned his wrist. His hair, although messy, looked as though he ran his fingers through it so it matched the two-day dusting coating his jaw. This was the first time I’d seen Kova wear something other than shorts in a long time. Amber skin, perfectly straight nose, and emerald eyes complimented him. He could’ve passed as an Armani model with flying colors.

“I did not mean to frighten you.”

“It’s okay. But I’m going to need you to put a bell around your neck as much as you sneak up on me.”

Kova looked down at his glass and swirled the amber liquid. He stepped up next to me and looked at his wall. He smelled like cinnamon and tobacco with a hint of citrus. I knew he wasn’t a smoker, yet the scent on him was seductive and sophisticated. I drew a silent breath into my lungs and felt it all the way to my core.

“What did you find so amusing?”

“Ah...” I turned back to the wall, heat rising to my cheeks. I seemed to blush a lot when Kova was around. I snuck a glance and he nodded his head, waiting for me. “I was just admiring your medals and wondered what you thought about your silver ones.”

He squinted with discerning eyes and looked at his wall, pursing his lips together in thought. I zoned in and noticed he had a deep cupid’s bow, where as I had full, ample lips.

Maybe Avery was right. He was Coach Kissable.

“I think I am very fortunate to have them, but also that I worked very hard and that I deserve them. Going to the Olympics is an accomplishment very few can achieve. Not even luck can get you there. It is pure determination, unwavering commitment to the sport, and a love that runs so deep for it that you would give up anything to achieve it. Sometimes even your life and childhood.” Kova took a sip of his beer. “Though, the truly dedicated would say gymnastics is their life, it is the air they breathe, so you are not really giving up your life at all if you are living it through gymnastics, are you?”

I read the underlining meaning in his eyes and felt the tone in his voice. He gave up everything in his childhood to achieve his dream. His devotion was contagious. My heart soared and a lazy smile spread across my face.

I looked back at his wall of medals and agreed. He was right in every sense. Luck had very little to do with it, but he forgot something else.

“You forgot timing,” I said, looking directly into his eyes. “Timing is everything, especially in gymnastics.”

“You know what else I did not mention? Selfishness.”

My brows cinched together, not fully agreeing with him. “Selfishness? I wouldn’t necessarily say that.”

“Sure it is,” he countered, stepping closer to me.

“There is nothing wrong with being selfish,” he continued. “Gymnastics, once you reach a certain level, becomes your entire life and everyone is just revolving around you. It is all about
you
meeting
your
goals,
you
competing,
you
spending hours upon hours in a gym fighting to be the best. It is climbing a rope and everyone is just sitting back watching
you
. You have to give one hundred and fifty percent with this sport. Gymnastics, in a sense, is all about you.”

Rope.
I smiled to myself at his gymnastics analogy. Most people said climb mountains, but he used rope since part of conditioning for many athletes was rope climbing.

“I hadn’t really thought of it like that before. I mean, in a sense, you’re right, but isn’t everyone selfish in some form then? Why a gymnast more so than others?”

He shook his head, disagreeing. “It is not the same.”