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Coach: Do not forget to call the doctor.
Pulling up my contacts, I found my doctor's office number and called. The receptionist picked up on the second ring.
"Hi, this is Adrianna Rossi. I'm calling to make an appointment to go over the results of my blood work? Is there any way I can come in today?"
"Okay… Let me see what I have available," she responded. I could hear her fingers flying over the keyboard.
"Are you able to tell me anything about my results?" I asked while I waited.
"Unfortunately, I can't. I'm not a doctor."
"What about if a nurse called me?"
"You’d have to come in regardless, and as of right now, it looks like the doctor is booked out until the end of the week."
"The end of the week," I repeated, freaking out.
I shook my head. This couldn't happen. I refused to miss that much practice. I walked over to Kova's couch and sat down. Bending over, I placed my forehead in my palm and stared at the marble floor.
"I need an emergency appointment, please. The doctor was adamant I come back as soon as possible based on the results of the first round of blood that was drawn. I was out of town and received multiple calls to the point my emergency contact was notified. Obviously, something is wrong. I need to come in sooner and if you don't believe me, you can ask the doctor herself."
I didn’t want to be rude, but
I had no other option.
"Please hold." Heart pounding, I waited for what felt like an eternity for the receptionist to come back. "The doctor can see you first thing in the morning. That's the best she can do."
I squeezed my eyes shut.
"I'll take it."
"Perfect. We'll see you at nine." She confirmed, then hung up before I could say another word.
Expelling a loud, unladylike sigh, I sat back and stared at the ceiling, wondering what I was going to do with my time until then.
Me: My appointment is tomorrow morning.
Coach: Good. Thank you for letting me know. I should be out of here in two hours.
I stood up and walked toward the other end of the house, looking for the master bedroom. I wanted to change out of my leotard, but I didn't have extra clothes with me; Kova wouldn't mind if I borrowed one of his shirts.
I was walking past his office and the room where he kept all of his gymnastics memorabilia when the memories assaulted me. Chills broke out down my arms. It was where he’d told me about his time in the Olympics for the first time, about his mother, and where he’d told me I was beautiful, if not more so than Katja. Where he softly touched my face and looked at me in a way a coach should never look at his gymnast. It was in that moment that everything changed for us.
When I reached the end of the dark hallway, I took a deep breath and placed my hand on the cold knob. Turning it, I pushed the door open and anticipated another crisp, stiff bedroom. Instead, I walked into a room that didn't match the rest of the house. While there was a cold and sterile feel to Katja's side of the house, Kova's side was masculine, warm, and elegant. His side was so much more inviting.
I stepped inside and was immediately submerged in Kova. This room was undeniably his and where he let himself be free to express himself. I was immediately cloaked in Kova's scent and my skin tingled with awareness. The heavy curtains blocked out all light. In the center of the room, against a slate gray accent wall, was an inviting king-size bed made up with a thick, deep blood red and dark gray comforter. There were no decorative throw pillows that suggested a woman's touch, just four large black ones. In front of his bed was a black leather sitting bench. No matching carpet like the other bland guest rooms, but charcoal gray wood floors with a giant animal hide rug in the center. On one side of the wall was an enormous armoire that made my jaw drop. I walked over to it, in awe of the detailed craftsmanship and brought my hand up to touch it.
Scrolls of tropical leaves were scored into the wood, wicker accents giving off an island feel, flanked by two bamboo inspired columns. On the opposite side, parallel to the armoire, was a workout area fitted with a stand used to work the upper body, and some free weights on a shelf off to the side. There was nothing on the walls save for a television mounted to the wall closest to the door with a large dresser underneath that matched the armoire. The TV was larger than me.
I glanced around. Who the hell had decorated this room? It was seductive and dark and mysterious and lush and unlike anything else in the house.
I loved it.
This had to be Kova's touch. His essence filled the room the same way he made a statement with so few words. Less is more and all that.
Curious to see the bathroom now, I strode toward the en suite and stopped short, sucking in a breath.
Wide, slate gray tiles lined the walls from floor to ceiling. A grand shower with no doors and a massive rain showerhead was next to the black marble vanity. There was a rectangular bathtub carved from stone directly in the center. It was so big I could stretch out in it and still not fill it. The last thing I had on my list of things to never do anytime soon was to take a bath, but after seeing Kova's, I wanted to test it out. Much to my surprise, there was a window with no blinds or curtains. It wasn't blurred, nor did it have mosaic tiles to block curious eyes. It led to what I assumed was his backyard and had a view of rows and rows of bamboo trees bunched together.
