This was my Kova. The Kova my heart beat fiercely for.
His hands slid down to the back of my thighs. Kova lifted me up and pressed my back to the door. I melted against his strong chest, loving how he held me in his arms. Sex with Kova was electrifying, but kissing Kova was something entirely different that I wasn't sure how to put into words. A kiss was more intimate. A kiss was unspoken words tangled with raw feeling. It brought you closer to someone. It was how I learned to understand Kova.
We needed this moment to know that we still had each other to get through this.
My legs wrapped around his waist as he deepened the kiss and made love to me this way, telling me he was still there when I thought for a moment he wasn't.
"I missed you so much," I said in between kisses.
His hand came up to press against my throat. I swallowed, remembering how much he liked that. Vibrant green eyes stared back at me before roaming over every inch of my face. His jet-black lashes lowered, his thumb smoothed over my neck and jaw, then to my lips, like he was finger painting them. His tongue dragged over his bottom lip as he leaned in to steal another kiss from me.
"Not more than I missed you," he said.
"I thought you might hate me for what happened."
His eyes snapped to mine, his brows angled toward each other. "Impossible."
"Where's your wedding ring?"
His callused thumb was still on my throat like he wanted to feel me talk. "I do not know." When I didn't say anything, he said, "I threw it out the window while I was driving." His voice was low, guttural when he spoke. "It is of no value to me and a reminder of the mistake I made."
"Oh." I wasn't expecting that.
"I know you have your appointment and a few things to wrap up here, but I need to hold you for just a moment longer." He paused and carried us to his desk where he sat on top of it with me wrapped around him. "We have to talk."
Dread coiled inside of me.
Four words, that when put together, could quintessentially make or break a relationship. I tried not to think the worst like I had earlier, and hoped for the best.
My head fell forward and rested on the honey curve of his neck.
"When we arrive in Texas tomorrow, there will be a full health scan by the Olympic coaches and the governing bodies. They look for all unauthorized medication that enhances performance." He tightened his arms. "I know you do not want anyone to know about your health right now, but they will discover the medications in your blood. They are going to question you."
I stared at his neck, unblinking. "What if they think I'm using steroids or something?"
"They will not. I have already checked all of your medications against the list."
My brows furrowed. Lifting my head, I looked at him. "How? You don't know them."
His fingers twirled a lock of my auburn hair. Tugging on the strand he was looking at, he said, "When I called Frank and spoke to him about the universities, I mentioned this issue as well. He gave me a list and we both agreed that you need a printed copy of your medical records from all doctors. I informed him that the Olympic doctors and media news stations will learn of the kidney disease and lupus. They will no doubt talk about it."
I swallowed hard. "What do you think the worst is that can happen?" My fingers rubbed over his skin. "I'm nervous now. I didn't even think about them finding out."
One corner of his mouth twitched. "Nothing other than you will most likely have more cameras in your face than other gymnasts, and more questions to answer. Probably more screenings. I do not want you to fear the worst or think that you will be treated any differently when we get to Texas. Believe me, the coaches will not go easy on you and they will not feel bad in the least. They have a one-track mind and all they see is gold. They will demand your blood and sweat. But I want you to be prepared beforehand to talk about it."
"Thank you for warning me. You know I don't like talking about it. It makes me feel like a walking disease. I mean, I am, but I feel like all eyes are on me now and I hate that feeling. I think this might be harder for me than the actual Games."
Kova eyed me cautiously.
"I want you to think of it as a story of both survival and inspiration, nothing else," he said, but his voice was too distant again for my liking. "That is what you are, Adrianna. You are an inspiration. You may not see it now, but one day a young gymnast will look up to you for your strength and fight, using your story as her motivation. Do not get caught in your emotions thinking the worst. Not only did you make the team, you made it while having lupus and kidney disease. That is not something to just be proud of, but to wear with pride. People will talk regardless. Who gives a shit? Do not let that take away from what you are about to do."
My lips twitched for a second. He said shit with a heavier than usual Russian accent.
"Why didn't you give an opinion when I asked about colleges? You know what you think matters to me. I want your insight."
He kissed the top of my head. "I don't want you to make a decision based on what I say."
"I won't. I'm just curious. I'm sure you know more about the schools than I do anyway."
Kova sighed deeply. "UCLA is a fantastic school, the team is top-notch. The head coach is someone I could see working well with you. She is known for bringing out the best in gymnasts and giving them time to find where they shine most. However, after all you have been through, what you will undergo soon, I am not sure competition on all four events is wise. You hate balance beam. Why waste your time and energy on something you dislike when you can spend it on something you love and excel at?"
Kova made a valid point, but I also liked to challenge myself. Plus, if I was taking a year off to recover, then I could possibly do all four events.
"Florida and Oklahoma are both neck and neck," he continued. "I personally love watching you on floor. Yes, vault and bars are where you outdo every competitor, but you come alive on floor, so I am leaning toward Oklahoma. With that all being said, given your health, Florida is an ideal choice for you."
My finger traced back and forth over his collarbone. I noticed he didn't suggest Georgia. My intuition told me he didn't want to make it seem like he was asking me to stay back and that was why he didn't bring it up.
Goose bumps prickled my skin as I touched him. Kova rested his cheek on the top of my head. I realized this was all it took for me—a stolen moment with him that settled my nerves.
Twenty-Seven
"I think your best option at this point is to forgo dialysis and schedule the transplant surgery immediately following the Olympics."
Puzzled, I sat staring at Dr. Kozol as if he'd just spoken a foreign language and expected me to understand and respond to it. The plan was originally to begin dialysis so I could allow my body time to rest and heal from gymnastics before I jumped into surgery. I knew eventually I had to get the transplant, just not so soon.
"I don't understand," I said, confusion shifting through me. I thought I was doing okay, better than I had in a long time. I felt okay, not worse. "I was going to move after the Olympics, possibly to another state. I thought I would continue our treatments there, just long distance. Now I need to schedule surgery immediately? What happened to dialysis?"