Page 24 of Wingmen

It waseight pm before he had the nerve to look at what Bennet had sent. When he opened it, it wasn’t what he was expecting:

How would you like to make a deal?

Frowning, Elliot carefully typed,with who

Nothing came back right away. Elliot went to the window and looked down at the restaurant across the street. He’d never seen Bennet in it, so he figured it was safe for dinner.

Bennet texted back while he was waiting on his panini.

Jesus fucking christ with ME you idiot

Elliot was immediately angry – which felt good. It was exactly what he needed to feel about Bennet right now. He sent back,

why the fuck would i wanna make a deal with a busted old man bro

The waiter set his plate down while the reply dots bubbled. Elliot was starving, and the panini he hadn’t eaten yesterday had been on his mind all day. He picked it up and sank his teeth into it. It wasmind-blowinglygood. He groaned and stuffed another bite in his mouth and wrangled it around with his tongue.

He was like…hornyfor this panini.

He chased it down with a swig of Deschutes, and tapped the phone to see if Bennet had replied yet. He had.

I think you’re gonna be interested in this. I want to propose a bet. An actual one.

Chewing, Elliot sipped his beer and frowned at this.Then he sent back a question mark.

A long minute of dots going, and then a wall of text came back.

What do you think about raising the stakes on our competition with the ladies? It’s still a tie-game. I think I said best of the three the other night, but what about best of five? Or seven or whatever. Or if you’re gonna be here through the summer…IDK. Maybe it would be fun to keep it going.

Interesting.

What was the angle here? Elliot dug sandwich bits out of his molar and sent,you mean like make it a thing

Yeah like be each other’s wingmen. Except…I guess not wingmen exactly because we’re competing. But the girls don’t know that. Pick a date, end of the summer, and whoever has the highest body count on that day wins.

Elliot was frowning, but also smiling a little.What do we win?

¯\_(?)_/¯Bragging rights. Buy the other guy’s gear next season. Pay for a weekend package somewhere

A weekend package somewhere? Did this guy think he was made of money?Aight aight easy,he sent back,we don’t all have your millions yet tío

Bragging rights then. You can literally tell everyone in Tampa that you fucked more girls than the great Dustin Bennet this summer

That was actually…pretty appealing.

Elliot put the phone down and sat back in his chair. He turned his glass around on the table.

Wingmen through the summer. How long was that? He checked his calendar; pre-season training started in two and a half months.

Two and a half months hanging out with Dustin Bennet.

His stomach did the thing it had been doing every time he thought about Bennet since the pool game. Part of him reallydidn’twant to spend two months hanging out with Bennet if his stomach was going to be doing that the whole time.

Part of him really did.

Not because he wasinto himor anything. But because…he fucking loved Dustin Bennet. That sounded weird, too. Not in aweirdway; he was just…a big fan.

Elliot’d had Bennet’s Wikipedia page bookmarked since he was old enough to use a phone. He’d read that page a lot last year, when family stuff got tough and he considered quitting hockey. He didn’t quit. Because that wasn’t what Bennet would’ve done. That was pretty much how Elliot had operated since he’d been old enough to lace up his own skates:Bennet did it. Why can’t you?