Page 120 of So This Is War
Winnie:I think we need to remember what we’re doing here. She knows about her father’s plan to make life difficult. In return, she has tried to make your life difficult, which we have learned she was successful at. To counteract her play, we chose to battle with the same fire. Which means . . .
Levi:I massage her?
Winnie:Correct.
Penny:Winnie is right. You walk around the hotel room practically naked. You massage her. You ask her to massage you. When you’re moving around the room, you touch her back, her hip, anywhere you can.
Ollie:Have a half-hardy and motion toward your bulge.
Blakely:You walk around in a towel, water dripping down your chest.
Penny:You make sexual innuendos that would get her hot.
Winnie:Compliment her. Tell her how pretty she is.
Levi:This feels a lot like I’m trying to woo her, not erotic torture her.
Penny:There’s a fine line. You must walk carefully because going too far would be like placing your penis on her pillow. But not going far enough would be like, hey, let’s play Go Fish.
Levi:Those are very different ends of the spectrum.
Winnie:Find the happy medium. You came to us for help. So this is the chance to do so.
Levi:And if I get hard?
Blakely:Show her first . . .
Penny:Then take a shower.
I glanceat the text from Wylie that I received when I was in the middle of our game.
Wylie:Arrived at the hotel. Watching the game at the bar.
We’re riding in the bus after a tough loss. That’s not sitting well with Pacey since he let three goals go by, meaning he’s in a shit mood. I’m in a shit mood because they never should have even had a shot at scoring through me and Eli. And now I have to try to put on a performance for my assistant who can see right through me.
Not to mention, the fucking list that Coach Wood sent me right before the game that put me in the worst of moods. Idiotic tasks that are a pointless waste of time. This is stupid. Really fucking stupid and I almost went up to him after the game to tell him that, but he wasn’t in a position to speak to anyone. I think he hates a loss more than we do, and I’m sure if I approached him about his daughter, he’d really have something to say about it.
But this one item on the list, it’s fucking terrible.
He wants me to ask Wylie to help me pick someone up at the hotel bar.
That’s . . . that’s not cool with me.
For one, I don’t need help.
Also, I don’t want to pick someone else up.
And last, what the hell am I supposed to do if I pick someone up? Do I bring her back to the hotel and tell her not to mind my assistant in the cot next to my bed?
Jesus Christ.
I drag my hand over my face just as we arrive at the hotel. Solemnly, we all start climbing off the bus in silence. No one heads toward the lobby as we make our way through the back entrance because we all know the last thing we should be doing is hanging out at the bar.
I text Wylie to meet me at my room.
A bunch of us pile into a service elevator, and we ride up together to our floor.
When we arrive, I just nod at my teammates and walk over to my room, where I open it with my key card. A cot has been placed next to the window, off to the side, and I let out a heavy sigh.
