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“I bet you never heard of using Bag Balm either, then.”
“Can’t say I have.”
“It’s used on cow utters since they tend to crack and split often.”
I stood with my mouth agape. I pictured the poor cows with the metal clamps, hyped up on steroids and growth hormones, forced to produce more milk than naturally occurring. Hayden chuckled at my expression. “That’s disgusting.”
I knew of all kinds of treatments, like using Vitamin E Gel, or a Band-Aid. Some believed in using warm tea bags on the rips with a sock to hold it in place overnight. A gymnast would do just about anything to heal a rip as swiftly as possible so they didn’t tear their skin any further. Some even went as far as using a pumice stone to scrub around a rip, removing any calluses and dead skin. Just the thought made me cringe. Hopefully I wouldn’t reach that stage. But hemorrhoid cream and the cow balm were new ones for me.
“My mom came up with a secret trick...I don’t share it with anyone, but I can stop by your place sometime with it and show you if that’s okay. I have a feeling you’re going to need it. But you have to promise not to laugh. Or tell anyone.”
I met his gaze. We hadn’t known each other very long, but I was willing to take my chances. “Thanks, Hayden. I promise not to say a word.”
“Social hour is over, girls.” Kova’s sarcastic tone did not go unnoticed. He clapped his hands and said, “Get back to work.”
Hayden nodded, his lips flattened to a thin line. “Make sure to give me your number before you leave.”
Back on the bars and my hands were raw, I’d never been in such pain before in my life. They were on fire, like burning flames of heat rolling across my palms.
Coach became relentless, forcing me to keep moving without a second to catch my breath or give my hands a break. He just kept yelling out orders until he was blue in the face and I mastered them to his imaginary level of perfection. My arms ached, the muscles strained and I was exhausted. But at least I had conquered the skills for the day. I was seriously contemplating calling in sick tomorrow.
But I couldn’t. There was no excuse to miss a practice. Ever.
With another two release moves and dismount coming up before I was done for the night, Kova moved in to spot me. I was capable of doing them alone, but having a spotter was always comforting. It was a built-in trust that came with the territory, one I knew he’d never break. He’d catch me before he’d ever let me fall.
After I landed my full-twisting double back tuck dismount, Kova patted the side of my ass the way coaches do with football players. I glanced up and he gave me a deep nod. We stood inches apart with our eyes on each other, but I couldn’t get a beat on his thoughts. I’d say he was pleased with me, but then again I just wasn’t sure.
The team parted ways and prepared to leave. I said goodbye to the girls and gathered my things from the locker room. Food was the only thing on my mind and it wasn’t one of those plastic prepared meals either. I was famished. Maybe I would have Alfred hit up a drive-thru on our way home for once.
As I was leaving the locker room, I pulled the door closed behind me and stepped into the narrow hallway as Kova came out of his office. He strode down the hall, eyes on me.
My skin prickled in awareness and I raked my gaze down the length of his body. Navy blue basketball shorts displayed the power and muscle in his legs, and a seemingly tight heather gray T-shirt clung to his chest, showing off his pecs. He was a man who took charge and one you didn’t argue with. How someone could be so incredibly good looking and a complete jerk at the same time was beyond me. I bet he knew it too.
Tilting my head to the side, I noticed a look on his face I hadn’t seen since arriving here. Contentment.
He stopped in front of me and peered down. “You did well today, Adrianna. Very well. You are coming along just fine, surprisingly.” He took a swig of his bottled water.
It was almost too good to be true. I looked into his darkening eyes bound by thick eyelashes and saw he truly meant his words. I wasn’t sure how to handle his appraisal without grinning like a fool. He caught me by surprise. Every day I wished he’d say something positive, and not once had he until now.
“Thank you, Coach.”
“I will see you tomorrow,” he said before continuing his walk down the hall.
“Ah, Coach?”
Kova paused, looking over his shoulder.
“Will I be able to use my grips next practice?”
“Not a chance. I know there is no way you learned after one day how to hold the bar correctly.”
My jaw dropped in disbelief. You. As if I was an idiot. “But my hands are raw, it hurts to even wash them with soap. I’ll bleed tomorrow and be completely useless.”
Kova turned around to face me, his broad shoulders pulled back, one hand clenched around his water bottle. “Do you think you are the first gymnast to show wear and tear on their hands from bars? You are not in Palm Beach anymore, malysh—”
Kova visibly tensed, stopping short from his last word. Since I didn’t speak a lick of Russian, I didn’t have a clue as to what he said. But judging by the alarmed look on his face and the thick air between us, whatever he said couldn’t have been good.
Snapping his head to the side, he cracked his neck. “I am not going to go light on you. Get used to it. Nobody said it was going to be easy, it only gets harder from here on out. You need to learn to toughen up and take it. Remember what I said earlier? Prove it to me. Every time you step foot into that gym—make it count. I do not care if your hands hurt or your back is sore or you are running on two hours of sleep. Prove it. Champions are not made by complaining. They are made by the endless pursuit of their dream, despite the obstacles they are faced with. Push through it and do it.”
