Balance (Off Balance Book 1) Read Online Free

not just one, but two floors, three sets of uneven bars, and seven balance beams, along with two vaults. There was also a tumble track, various equipment for men, and a high bar with a foam pit and resi-mat, a huge mat on top of a foam pit used for practicing softer landings. Farther back were a bunch of doors. I had no idea what they were for, but I was curious to what they led to.
    Even my parents seemed to be in awe of the gym, if their wide eyes were any indication. A shiver shot down my spine and goose bumps coated my arms in enthusiasm, as a rush of adrenaline began beating through my veins at the sight before me.
    The sound of a slamming door from behind me shook me out of my trance, compelling me to look over my shoulder. My parents followed the sound and I spotted a tall, fit man. With his hands on his hips, his eyes surveyed the lobby and connected with my parents’ before trailing down and locking with mine, his narrowing gaze holding me in place. All the air left my lungs. His powerful presence demanded attention, and without a doubt, he had all of mine.
    Never in my life had I seen someone so unbelievably gorgeous. There was no other word I could use to describe him. His commanding eyes made me think it was possible he could be a coach, but no coach I’d ever seen had been so attractive. Come to think of it, none of them had ever been under the age of forty without a potbelly and receding hairline. This man was solidly built and full of muscle.
    A silent breath escaped my lips as he stalked toward us with power and poise. My heart nearly hurdled into my throat as I stared like he was some sort of Adonis. Dark stubble dusted his square jaw, full lips that begged for attention, straight as an arrow nose. Combined with inky black hair and olive skin with golden undertones, sweet baby Jesus, the man was perfection.
    Crossing the room, he extended a hand.
    “Frank, it is good to see you again.” His forearm flexed, the veins signifying the muscular strength he wielded. It was incredibly difficult to tear my eyes away as he gave my father a firm handshake. He was absolutely, drop-dead gorgeous. Avery would call him fucking hot. My best friend loved to add “fucking” to the beginning of everything.
    “Kova.”
    This was my dad’s friend, and he owned this place. Interesting. He looked like he was fresh out of college, no more than twenty-five max. Dad didn’t have very many young friends I was aware of—I could count on one hand the friends I had met who were younger than him. They typically had graying hair, crow’s feet, and overworked, aging skin. The complete opposite of what was standing right in front of me.
    So Kova was Konstantin. Where the nickname came from was beyond me, but the more talking they did, and the camaraderie I witnessed, the more I realized this was indeed the man my dad had told me about.
    I remembered hearing the name Konstantin years ago in the gymnastics circle. He was one of the most decorated gymnasts to date, bringing home more medals to Russia than any other male athlete ever had. He’d competed in two Olympics and dominated each of them. He was supposed to try for a third Olympics but pulled out at the last minute due to unforeseen circumstances. Rumors circulated, some even saying steroid use was the reason he didn’t compete, but to my knowledge he never publicly gave a reason for his absence.
    “Welcome to World Cup Academy of Gymnastics.”
    That accent was most definitely Russian. For a gymnast, Kova was tall. Probably around six feet, give or take a few inches. Paired with his profoundly muscular shoulders and firm chest, evidenced by how tight his shirt stretched, he looked like the perfect package, if there ever was one.
    My eyes drifted down, and my cheeks bloomed with heat. Oh, my God. Now, I was checking out his package!
    “You remember my wife, Joy, and our daughter, Adrianna. Or Ana as we call her.”
    I internally rolled my eyes. My name was Adrianna, not