Page 117 of So This Is War
“Wait, what?” I ask. “You want me to fly her here?”
“Yes. I want her attached to your hip. Everywhere you go, she goes. I want her running around constantly. If we’re on the ice practicing, she’s watching you. If we’re out to eat, she’s there dabbing your face with a napkin. If we’re flying, she’s in the back, writing handwritten notes to your fans. She needs to be glued to you.”
Well, isn’t that fun?
“Um, okay. And where do you want her to stay? In my hotel room?”
His eyes darken, and he takes a step forward, invading my space. “Do you think I want her to stay in your hotel room?”
“Well, you said like glue. I assumed that’s what you’d want.”
He pauses for a moment and looks off to the side. He scratches the side of his cheek and then says, “Can you keep your dick to yourself?”
“I mean, he is a wild man, but he knows his limits.”
“A simple yes would suffice.”
“Then yes,” I say.
He studies me for a short second before he curtly nods. “Yes. I want her to stay in your room.”
The minute he says it, I instantly regret the suggestion because . . . how the fuck am I supposed to find relief if she’s in my fucking room? Probably don’t want to hear about it, but still suffering from some hard dick scenarios over here.
I clear my throat and say, “Well, that might be a great idea and all, but there’s usually only one bed in my room so . . .”
“Make her sleep on the floor.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
“Coach Wood, with all due respect, I’m all for asking her to do just about anything, but sleeping on the floor is out of the question. I can be an asshole, but I’m not comfortable with that.”
“But you’re comfortable sharing a room with her?”
I let out a frustrated sigh. “Honestly? No. I said that just to, I don’t know, be a dick. But I’d prefer, for you know . . . manly release’s sake, for her not to be there.”
He cringes. “You’re disgusting.”
“Oh come on, everyone fucking does it. Even you,” I say, gesturing to him.
He doesn’t move.
Doesn’t even flinch.
Huh, maybe he doesn’t.
Nervously, I shift. “From the look in your eyes, I’m going to guess you haven’t touched your penis in over a decade.”
His nostrils flare. “Do you really want to be talking about my penis?”
“Not really, but I tend to ramble when presented with uncomfortable situations like this one.” He’s silent, so I continue, “Do you watch porn?”
“Shut. The. Fuck. Up,” he growls.
“My pleasure.” I clamp my mouth shut.
Coach Wood pinches his brow, clearly feeling the effects of dealing with me. Don’t blame him. Sometimes I can hardly stand myself, and this is one of those moments. “She needs to be in your room. She needs to be turned off by the constant need for her assistance from you.”
I scratch my forehead. “I see what you’re trying to do here, but I’m not making her sleep on the floor, and I sure as hell don’twant to sleep on the floor. I know you want to prove something to your daughter, but not at the expense of your best d-man’s back.”
