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Nauseous.
He now knew I had been a virgin.
My heart raced so fast from his seething glare, it drummed in my ears. He heard everything. Everything.
And he was pissed. I can’t imagine how I didn’t see him standing there.
No, he was fucking fuming and looking at me with repulsion, and I detested it. His hands were fisted tightly at his sides, knowing he couldn’t comment. So he just stood there, scowling, slicing me open with his loathing glare. The disgust on his face made my stomach churn. After everything we shared between us, the conversations and intimacy, I didn’t want him to look that way toward me.
I needed to break the eye contact, so I fell forward and hung on the bar, pretending to fix my grips like they needed to be tighter. I clapped my hands to dust some of the chalk off. Anything I could think of to avoid seeing him when I looked up. My heart was racing so fast it hurt. I needed to get off
this apparatus immediately. I needed to get out of here. I had too much on my mind to focus on what he heard, and how I was going to fix this.
No, I needed to tune out bitchy Reagan and pissy Kova and focus on gymnastics. That’s what I needed to do.
Shit. Now my legs were quivering. Trying to ignore everything that just ruined my life in a matter of two minutes, I pulled up and continued with my warm up. I finished with a simple back tuck dismount. My mind was all over the place, my stomach was nauseous and I felt sick to the core. I quickly chalked up and tried to get back up on bars. Just before doing a kip, I paused with my hands wrapped around the bar. I couldn’t do it. My gut told me not to take the risk. My hands trembled, my heart in my throat. I was off balance. Being around, and training with Kova, was fucking with my head.
Stepping back, my arms dropped lifelessly to my sides. I looked up and spotted Kova across the gym working with a gymnast on the floor. But he was still fiercely staring me down. His incredible eyes saying everything I needed to know.
Jesus, Mary and Joseph. What the fuck did I do?
“Reagan, leave her alone.”
My head snapped at the sound of Hayden’s voice. Jesus. I wish he’d been here a few minutes earlier. The inquisitive look in his eyes said he knew there was more to the story than just Reagan being an asshole like she normally was, but luckily he brushed it off. I didn’t know when he got here or how much he heard.
Reagan jutted her hip out. “Why? Are you two a thing? Because you know that’s not allowed.”
“I’m well aware of the rules, Rea. So is Aid. I’m asking you to back down and retract your claws. We’re friends—nothing more.”
“Aid?”
Hayden uncapped his water bottle and sipped it, never breaking eye contact with her. Replacing the cap, he said, “Yeah—Aid, just like when I call you Rea. It’s a nickname, that’s what friends do.”
Hayden walked away, and I walked in the opposite direction. I couldn’t breathe. I needed air. I needed something. I was starting to panic and I didn’t know how to calm down because I had no one I could talk to. My nerves were lighting up and shaking me to the core. I began ripping my grips off as I exited to the lobby, the whole time I could feel my coach’s eyes burning a hole into the side of my face. I didn’t look though, because I already knew what they’d say.
Deceit.
Lies.
Trickery.
Loathing.
God, but it was so good. Amazing. And even though I omitted that fact, I still wanted him to want me. I still wanted him to desire me. I’d do it all over again if given the chance. Just thinking about it had my body warming and my heart pounding for all the right reasons. I may have been a virgin, but I knew no one would ever compare to him or the way his body felt against mine, or the pleasure he brought me. There was more to us than just sex and gymnastics, and we both were aware of it.
Shaking it off, I stepped into the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face. I couldn’t go home, so I’d just have to act like nothing was wrong, and talk to Kova after practice when everyone left and we were alone.
Two hours later, I was fucking up my routine left and right. I may have appeared to have nothing on my mind and only having a bad workout, but that was because I was taught to. However, if anyone climbed inside my head, they’d see what a hot jumbled mess I was. I couldn’t think straight. I couldn’t swing neatly. My legs kept coming apart. I stumbled, my feet scraping the ground, and I couldn’t land a clean dismount. I was all over the place. It was horrible. People had to see how terribly I was performing. I’m sure Reagan took note.
I wasn’t even doing my release moves in fear of messing up and not catching the bar. Or worse, freaking out in mid-air and land on the bar with my hip. I stuck to basic bars and did easy skills, a few simple releases. Truthfully, I had no choice if I wanted to preserve what little sanity I had left.
Reagan and her friends whispered under their breath the whole time. I brushed it off, not caring what they thought. I already had an injury, I didn’t need to add to it, so I played it safe for the day. And it didn’t help that any time I glanced over my shoulder, I saw Kova looking at me. Not only was I performing like shit, he was watching me with his beautiful arms tightly crossed in front of his chest, critiquing my every move. He stared so keenly I decided to make an effort to avoid looking in his direction.
Only one more release before I did a copout dismount and would rotate to my last event for the day. I needed to be done with bars, done with practice so I could talk to Kova.
One Giant into a blind change, another Giant to gain momentum, I took a deep breath and released the bar to move into a Jaeger.
Only to fucking miss it.
