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“I was looking for you.”
I looked over at the singsong voice. It was the woman from earlier. Whoever she was, she was the definition of flawless. A perfect, glossy shine to her pin straight chestnut hair. Ivory skin, bright hazel eyes and a megawatt smile complemented her supermodel body. There wasn’t a thing wrong with her on the outside. Truly perfect from her French manicured toes to the top of her deep brown head.
Kova cleared his throat. “I apologize, malysh, I was just explaining my medals to Adrianna and how it was not done by having luck.” Kova looked at me, strained. “Adrianna, this is my girlfriend, Katja.”
Malysh. He called her Malysh like he’d once called me. Blood drained from my face, a knot formed in the pit of my stomach at the endearment he used on both of us. I knew he said it was by mistake when he said it to me, but it bothered me, and I wasn’t sure why. Maybe because she was perfection and I was not. Maybe it was because I secretly liked that he used it on me more than I wanted to admit, and now knowing he used it on her made me slightly envious. My insecurities I worked so hard to overcome, thanks to my mom, were making an appearance and I didn’t like it one bit.
She smiled and placed her hand out.
Katja looked back to Kova with a pointed brow. The tension was thick between them once again. “The grill is almost ready. Would you like me to get you another drink?”
“No, thank you.?
??
“What is that?” she asked, brows angled together.
“Beer.”
She pulled back like he spoke another language. “Beer? No vodka for you?”
His sheepish eyes shot back to me. “I was thinking it would not be such a good idea to put my Russian half on display tonight.” He chuckled, his hand reaching out to cup Katja’s cheek, his thumb circling her immaculate skin. Her face tilted to the side, a honey smile on her lips. I got the feeling they were putting on a show after what I’d seen.
“Ah, I see. Well, we need you on the grill soon and more guests just showed up.” Katja placed a kiss to his lips, turned, and walked out.
Quietly, I admitted with a sliver amount of jealousy, “Katja is very pretty.”
He flattened his lips, his face faltering and I was curious to know why. “Yes, she is a very beautiful woman.”
Woman. Whereas I was a teenager.
Wanting to change the focus, I asked, “What other nationality are you?”
“I think I have spilled enough today...again. You heard Katja, I need to go.” And there was the stone-faced Kova I knew.
Coach Kova was back, ignoring my question. All I did was ask about his heritage and he shut down. It was by far the least intrusive of everything he exposed.
Kova left and walked back in the direction of the dining room and I followed behind, but the vibrant colors of a Florida sunset caught my eye and pulled me into a room just off from where the awards were. Looking out the window, deep pinks and an array of blues swathed the darkening sky behind a body of water. I smiled to myself at the warmth filling my heart. I seriously loved living in Florida.
Glancing around, I realized I’d stepped into an office. It was similar to my dad’s but smaller. The desk was placed in front of the window and a bookshelf adorned one wall. My eyes locked on a framed picture of Katja on a shelf.
Walking over, I picked it up. She wore a white button-down men’s shirt. The sleeves were rolled up, but the front was left opened so it showcased an outline of her plump breasts and toned stomach. She looked like she just woke up. Her messy hair was flipped to the side while giving a wide, playful smile as she sat upon an unmade bed. She appeared to be the happiest woman on the planet, and there was no doubt in my mind she wasn’t. I could only hope to be as naturally stunning as her one day.
Placing it down, I looked around and noticed another framed photo, this time on his desk. Curious, I brazenly walked over and picked it up. Katja was sensually sliding off a rumpled sheet, wearing black stilettos and black thigh high lace trimmed stockings in a matching bra and panty set. Her dainty fingers just grazing her fair cleavage while her hair was curled loosely around her. She was every man’s fantasy in this picture. Her back was partially against the side of the bed, her breasts perfectly round and plump as they pushed up. And the look she gave the camera screamed sex as she twirled a lock of hair around her finger.
The photo was breathtaking, striking.
I bet Kova took these photos of her. Why that stung, I had no idea. It shouldn’t have. After all, he was my coach, but something in my belly tightened at the thought of Kova framing provocative images of her in his office. In that moment, I envied Katja. She oozed confidence and power. This was tasteful, artistic...and it made me realize this was something I’d want my future husband to do one day.
“Adrianna?”
Startled, I gasped, nearly dropping the frame.
“What the hell are you doing in here?” Kova spat each word, a hand propped on his hips.
“I, ah,” I was rendered speechless. Completely speechless. My jaw bobbed and my eyes were huge as I tried to find words.
Kill me now.
