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She openly glared at him. "Konstantin. Why is she wearing your clothes?" she asked, flipping up her palm, fingers pointing toward me like little sharp knives.
I looked at him, waiting to hear his response myself.
"Adrianna was not feeling well and said she was cold. She was ill a few days ago, so I told her to grab my sweater and take a rest in the therapy room."
Interesting.
"Why not send her home if she is sick?" she asked. Her voice was high and pitchy, and flat out annoying. "She will contaminate everyone else, including you. And you know I cannot get sick right now."
I wasn't a walking disease, for fuck’s sake.
Okay. Technically speaking I was, but they didn’t know that. And I wasn't contagious.
Kova cocked his head to the side. His expression, the look in his eyes, it screamed common sense. I chewed back my smirk and eyed the floor. I knew that look and I almost felt bad for her.
"We have a very important week ahead of us, which I have mentioned to you. She has no time to rest."
I looked back up as Katja placed her hand over her heart. The glittering diamond was bigger than her knuckle. I wanted to bend that finger backwards.
"But what about me? About what we talked about?"
"What about you?" he retorted.
She glanced at me with bitterness in her steel gaze. My brows angled toward each other with deep creases.
"This is not what we agreed upon," Katja said, then looked at me again like she was trying to say something without saying it. Her gaze followed mine and she noticed I was back to staring at her enormous wedding ring and band.
I quickly glanced away, but it was too late. It wasn't even that nice. Just a dumb circle and thin band.
The air between all three of us thickened to an awkward silence. I was the third wheel. Hitching my thumb up, I took one step backward and said, "I'm going to go rest now…"
They both looked at me. I turned away. Katja's glare left me with an unsettling feeling and I didn’t like it one bit.
"Ah, Adrianna?"
I stopped and looked over my shoulder. "Yes?"
"No more than an hour."
Damn it. "Yes, Coach."
I knew Kova was just trying to look out for me and I appreciated that, but Christ on a stick, I was going to die of hypothermia in the therapy room before kidney disease.
A little dramatic, but I really hated being cold. I despised it more than anything.
Curled up in a tight ball under Kova's jsah-hket, my teeth chattered while I counted down the seconds until my sentence was up. My toes were frozen solid and the only thing that gave me any kind of alleviation was the husky scent of Kova's smell imbedded into the fibers of his hoodie. I burrowed myself into his sweater.
I didn't last the full hour. Between the sterile room and the clipped Russian language that carried down the hall, I needed to get out of there and back into the gym.
I returned to the café to clean up what I'd left out on the table before making my way to the locker room. I took off Kova's sweater and folded it up, then placed it in my bag. There was no way I was knocking on his office door to return it now. Not since Kova and Katja had been going at it ever since they’d walked into his office. They seemed like they were at war with each other. At least that's what I’d gathered. Neither one was backing down. While Katja's voice rose and fell, Kova's stayed on the opposite spectrum.
I took a step to leave the locker room and hesitated at the sound of Kova's unrestrained voice. I held my breath and waited another beat longer until I thought the coast was clear.
I should've just hidden out.
A loud slap echoed down the hallway. I sucked in a breath and pressed my back to the wall, debating whether or not I should run for it. I assumed Kova had been slapped across the face. I didn't want to be there when it was all over.
Expelling a nervous breath, I made up my mind to run back into the gym when a shrill of Russian words sounded the same time the door flew open.
