DROP TWENTY-NINE
Hector lost his way again, then kinda sorta found it. He followed the sounds of lovely voices to the gynaeconitis. This time, he stayed in the corridor and waited for Patty. The ladies inside showered, tended to their cuts and laughed with each other.
Both teams.
You couldn’t really tell that half an hour ago they were attempting to smash each other’s face with foam weapons, and succeeding at the task.
A Pinup left the locker room with only a towel on, and blew a kiss towards Hector as she walked by.
“Hi,” he said, lamely.
Gods, he was grinning like a teenager.
“Pickle?” he said loudly, trying to be heard over the ruckus.
“What?” her voice came from inside.
“How long?”
“Ten minutes. No, make that twenty.”
Okay, he could hang around for twenty more minutes. Oh, h
