Balance (Off Balance Book 1) by Lucia Franco Page A

and then loosened like they were just waking up. It hurt and felt good all at the same time. Flexing and pointing helped my shins, and I pushed my legs as wide as they could go by scooting up to stretch out my groin.
    I was lost in the feeling when I felt the spring floor dip as someone came up next to me and grabbed my ankle, lifting my leg.
    “What the...” I mumbled under my breath. I sat up and looked over my shoulder. I almost said fuck, but I caught myself. Coach knelt so close to my face I noticed how incredible his eyes really were. A brilliant green, the color of fresh basil and lime interwoven with each other pulled me in. Mesmerizingly beautiful, and when his hand moved to the crease of my hip and thigh, I drew in a breath.
    His fingers dug into my skin where my leotard met my bikini line and he carefully rotated my leg so my knee faced up.
    “Back down,” Coach ordered. I had no idea what he planned, so I listened and laid my chest flat on the floor, which ended up being a good thing. I didn’t want to get caught staring into his eyes.
    Or think about where his hand currently was.
    Slowly, he lifted my leg and pressed down on my back so I couldn’t move. A little grunt left my lips as he stretched out my hips.
    “Toes pointed, knees up, Adrianna,” he said, like I was an idiot. Maybe the arrogance in his tone was a Russian thing.
    Coach slowly pulled my foot up so it was slightly higher than my back. I felt the burning stretch in my groin grow as he raised it. Unwillingly, my body tried to sit up at this tense position to ease the strain, but Coach just pressed harder on my back, not allowing me to move. I held my breath, my fingers spreading wide on the carpet and my stomach flexed. His forearm dug into my back as he leaned over and pressed me down. This shit hurt. I thought my groin was about to be ripped out, even my butt felt like the muscles were being pulled to their max.
    “Breathe,” he whispered.
    I groaned in the back of my throat as he lowered my foot to the floor, where I began to melt and release the tension in my muscles. It felt so good, but not for long because he switched to my other side and applied the same amount of force. This took stretching and flexibility to a whole new level for me.
    “Girls, sit across from the low beam, put your toes on it and wait for me.”
    Opening my eyes, I was faced with two large knees just inches from my nose. He may have been wearing workout shorts, but I could see the width of his thighs and the muscles surrounding his knees. They were huge and his legs were free of hair.
    Not to mention, he smelled really good. Too good.
    Twenty years later, Konstantin lowered my leg but I was stuck and stiff. Slowly, I sat up by walking my hands toward me.
    “Partner up and take turns stretching out your knees. Bounce lightly, girls. We don’t need any broken knee caps.”
    That accent...I was quickly realizing I liked his accent a hellava lot. Every time he opened his mouth, it begged attention. Maybe it was an American thing to like someone else’s enunciation, but then I wondered if foreigners liked American accents too. Probably not. There was nothing exotic about an American dialect. We didn’t roll our r’s the way Russians did. It would come off as a speech impediment if anything.
    Moving behind me, Coach’s fingers grazed delicately down my forearm. He grasped my wrist, then reached for the other one. He carefully extended both wrists back, stretching my arms out behind me.
    “Do not drop your chest. Shoulders back, back straight.”
    “What are they doing?” I found myself asking as my eyes drifted over to the girls on the low balance beam just a couple of feet away.
    “It is a stretching technique that overextends your knees. It helps with jumps so your legs are bowed. You have never done them before?”
    “No.” I watched the girls lightly bounce on their teammates’ kneecaps. This had to be something he picked up in Russia. I could actually