Page 13 of Wingmen

Marisol pursed her lips and sighed unhappily through her nose while she surveyed him. Then she put up her hands like,Not my client. Not my problem, and stepped back. One more run wasn’t going to hurt him.Tommight hurt him. But that was fine.

“Alright,” she said. “You want me to time it?”

“Yes, please,” said Dustin, cracking his neck.

He had the slightly unsettling feeling that it was more than just Rodriguez watching him now. The gym had gone suspiciously quiet – just the whir of a treadmill in the corner, and music coming down from the speaker.

He didn’t remember getting there, but he found himself at the end of the ladder. That was good: that was exactly what he wanted. He turned to Marisol, a little breathless. “Time?”

A small silence. “Ten nine nine.”

His stomach dipped with disappointment. “Okay,” he said, “no problem. Warming up.” He nodded and went back to the top. “Ready?”

Marisol looked at him. “I think that was three, Bennet.”

“I got one more in me.”

“Uh huh, and you’re not my client, but–”

“It’s not a big deal.”

“I just think you should–”

“Come on, it’s–”

“Bennet.”

Dustin’s spine jolted into a perfectly vertical column, the way it always had when his dad used that voice at practice. He turned, and could’ve sworn he felt every eye in the room do the same. Tom stood outside the office with his arms folded. He didn’t look mad. He just looked at Dustin across the room, and Dustin felt like he was seven years old.

“Stop,” said Tom, and shut the door behind him.

He heard Rodriguez start up the elliptical.

Ten minutes later,Dustin sat with his knee hooked up to the ice machine in the recovery room. It didn’t hurt and he was quietly relieved about that, but he was also furious with himself.Ten nine nine?What he needed was an ice wrap for his pride.

The door opened and Elliot came in with headphones on and a towel around his neck. He sat two stations down, pulled his right jogger up to the knee, set an ice pack on the bench and his calf on top of it, and took out his phone.

Dustin narrowed his gaze. All the kid had done was run the ladder, fifteen minutes on the elliptical, and then bounced over to the blue mat to do five aggravatingly beautiful sun salutations. He was twenty-one. There was nothing wrong with that leg. So what the hell was he doing icing it? Trying to one-up Dustin atrecovery?

Elliot’s thumb paused mid-flick, and he sighed, tapped the phone, and lifted it to his ear.

“Hey Mamá.” He fixed his gaze on some point just below the floor. “No, I’m not doing anything. Uh huh. No. Sí. Sí, Mamá.” He picked at the knee of his joggers. “No, porque es– Uh huh.”

Dustin shut his eyes and tipped his head to the wall behind him. Sometimes you just had to sit through a guy’s awkwardconversation. The best he could do was shut his eyes and pretend that made him invisible.

Across the room, Elliot sighed. “¡Porque no me quiero quedar en tu casa toda la vida, Mamá! Uh huh.” Another sigh. “Sí, okay. Okay. Gracias, Mamá. Te escucho tamb– Okay, well, I’mtryingto hear you. I’m sorry I didn’t let you know before I decided. Okay. Te amo también. Okay. Bye.”

Dustin kept his eyes closed as the music started up in Elliot’s headphones. Sounded like Rodriguez hadn’t told his mother he was staying in Portland. He couldn’t deny it was alittlesatisfying hearing the guy who’d undressed his team getting dressed down by his mommy.

They stayed like that until the timer on Dustin’s watch went, and he beeped it off, took off the wrap, and stood up.

Elliot looked up as he walked out, but Dustin pretended not to notice.

CHAPTER FOUR

Elliot

“Ithought you were coming back to Tampa?”