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In that moment, I decided I was going to study witchcraft and put a spell on him for this kind of torture.
And have him use correct English words, and some fucking contractions.
Every time he pushed my legs down, I took a deep breath and held it, using it to throw my legs back to him. Sweat dripped down the sides of my temples, and I was pretty sure I was going to pop a blood vessel in my eye.
Who knew how much time had passed when I reached the point where I couldn’t take anymore. My inner thighs trembled, they shook so hard that in conjunction with my burning stomach, I was queasy. He must have sensed it when he said, “One last time.” And when he threw my legs again, I let them drop to the floor with a thud. One leg fell out to the side, the other coming up in an effort to bend, but I didn’t have the strength to hold it up, so they both fell open. The position wasn’t very ladylike, but I was too worn the hell out to care.
Panting heavily, I felt like I just ran a marathon. “I think I’m dying.”
“Do not be so dramatic.”
My grip loosened and my elbows flopped to the side. “I’m not. That was hard.” But he ignored my comment and stood above me, his gaze between my opened legs.
I should’ve closed them, it would’ve been the logical thing to do, but I was rooted in place. Partly due to the fact that I just couldn’t move, but I also liked the way his eyes licked across my body. His heady stare caused a throb between the crux of my thighs, and my pulse quickened.
God. What was wrong with me? I should’ve been repulsed. Hell, maybe I should’ve gotten up and walked away. Maybe I needed to speak to a therapist about my Kova addiction.
Actually, scratch that.
Opening up about having a crush on my much older coach could seriously backfire on me. Keeping my mouth shut was the only plan of action I had.
Mustering the strength, I brought my legs together slowly, adding pressure to my
swollen center with my thighs. Coach cleared his throat and reached out his hand to help me up.
“I will see you later for floor.”
“Coach?”
“Go.”
“No, I feel like we should talk.”
Stepping toward me, his eyes quickly scanned the gym. “There is nothing to talk about. It was a giant lapse in judgment. It should have never fucking happened,” he sneered. “And now I have to live with the fact I took advantage of a minor, my gymnast no less. I am sick over it, I cannot sleep.”
I reared back, feeling only a small dose of pity. “You didn’t take advantage of me.”
“It is even worse you think that way,” he gritted out under his breath. “You should have been revolted with what I said and did.”
“I’m not, I wasn’t. I liked it, everything, and I didn’t want it to stop. You felt better than when—”
“Adrianna,” he said sharply, cutting me off. Running a hand through his hair, his eyes traveled to my chest and lingered for a moment. “I do not have anything else to say to you. I am a man, you are a...teenager,” he said with disgust, making me feel two inches tall. “Had Katja seen us, we could have lost everything. I am not willing to risk that for anything or anyone, no matter what.”
I swallowed back the empathy I was suddenly feeling. His eyes softened, shame filling them. “You have worked too hard to just throw it away, and so have I. Keep your hands to yourself and I will do the same.”
Then he turned and walked away, gutting me.
Two hours of advanced chem, plus ten hours of gym time, and I was ready to crash.
It didn’t matter that I turned another year older today, it felt like any other day to me. Avery was out of the country. She hadn’t been able to visit me for my birthday like she wanted. Her parents scheduled a family vacation to Spain and dropped it on her and her brothers last minute, but she promised she’d come and see me when she got back. My dad was away on business, Xavier was off with his friends doing God knows what, and other than a text from my mom, I hadn’t heard a single word from my family. The gym was the gym, same as any other day.
I’d learned to turn off emotions when the time called for it, so being alone on my birthday didn’t affect me.
However, Alfred gave me a cupcake with a candle last night when he handed over the keys to the Escalade, my very own Tonka truck. I thanked him and actually called him Thomas.
Aside from being famished and probably capable of eating a cow right then, I just didn’t have the strength after the long and draining day I had.
Stepping out of the private tutoring room housed in the back of the library, the lights were soft and the vacancy in the air left me feeling a little cold. My grades were good and I stayed on track, so I really didn’t need to come, even though I skipped class that morning to take my driver’s test. Where my mom peeved about my appearance, my dad focused on school and how important grades were. I knew he was right, because at the end of the day, I wasn’t naive to think money could buy everything like it had in order for me to come to World Cup. One day this would all be over and I’d be living in the real world with real responsibilities.
