Page 25 of Wingmen

He’d nevertellBennet all that, obviously.

He finished the beer and flagged down the waiter, and went back to the phone while the guy brought the bill.

Alright i’m game, he sent.When do we start

CHAPTER SEVEN

Dustin

He realized as he was getting ready that they needed a way to track this thing.

It was the Friday after he’d proposed the bet, and he was meeting Rodriguez for their first ‘wingmen’ outing. Rodriguez didn’t seem to suspect there was any ulterior motive behind the bet. He’d agreed to the game in classic Rodriguez style – toxic masculinity on full display. Dustin kind of couldn’t wait to knock some sense into his big dumb head.

He hadn’t seen Elliot since that text exchange. He was careful not to run into him at Force that week, because watching helplessly from the sidelines while Rodriguez smoked his ladder PR would be a special kind of hell he didn’t think he could endure.

They’d texted back and forth to establish some rules. Rodriguez wanted a drink minimum for the girls. Dustin said absolutely not. Dustin wanted a curfew. Rodriguez called him grandpa.

They were going back to Bernie’stonight,because Dustinfelt like the place deserved a second chance after they got ditched by those girls at pool. He put on his leather jacket and patted himself for phone, wallet, keys. Then he went down to the curb to wait for his Uber. He wasn’t gonna drive the rental he’d got for the summer if he’d be drinking to keep up with Rodriguez. He texted him while he waited.

Need to start a spreadsheet or something to track the numbers.Do you have Apple? I can share something.

He looked up the street for the car while he waited, and when he looked back, Rodriguez had sent,Bruh. Obviously there’s an app,and the eyeroll emoji.

An AppStore link came through. Dustin tapped it open.Body Count. Holy shit. It was literally an app for tracking your takedowns. Not all that weird, he supposed, considering what else you could do with your phone these days.

While he was looking at it, Rodriguez sent,you gonna need help figuring out how to use it abuelito?

Abuelito. That was a new one. Dustin sent back the middle finger, along with,See you there, and Googled it.

‘Little Grandad’. Right.

He read the AI summary about how ‘-ito’ and ‘-ita’ made things ‘little’ or ‘cute’ in Spanish, and remembered the visceral trauma of his high school French class. He’d been reliving that trauma a lot looking up Rodriguez’s filthy, degrading slang. If all he managed to teach this kid was not to call women ‘street dogs’ and ‘insects’, he’d consider that a win.

Elliot

Up close, Drew had windburn on her pale, freckled cheeks and her hair was frizzy from weather. She’d been outsidethat day, somewhere brisk, and was still dressed in Gor-tex, cargo pants and hiking boots. Her friend was sitting on the other side of her at the bar, with Bennet on the other side of that.

“What internship?” Elliot asked, putting his elbow next to Drew’s. She had gray-green eyes and very short hair like a dude – which Elliot usually didn’t like, but it kind of worked on her. And she had a body underneath all the manly clothes she was trying to hide it with.

“Pacific Coastal Ecology Grant,” she said. “I argue with people about clams. I’m getting into sustainability.”

He sipped his beer. “I’d watch that show.”

“About clams?” She laughed. “It would be a slow show.”

Elliot cocked his eyebrow. “I like a slow show.”

Drew gave him a look that said that was onlyalmostfunny, but that she was willing to play along. Her friend, who was talking to Dustin, turned around and looked at Elliot, and he gave her a wave to say,Yes, hola, I’m friendly, don’t worry. As the friend turned back to Dustin, Dustin glanced at Elliot. Elliot’s face ignited and he looked away.

“So what’s the show about?” he asked, taking his beer off the coaster.

“The clam show?” Drew looked at the ceiling, thinking. “Two people race to eat as many clams as possible.”

“Sexy. For how long.”

“An hour.”

“That would take some endurance.”