Page 65 of Wingmen

He was smirking with those little crinkles around his eyes. Elliot pitched the look back. “I said I’dcook. Cleaning was never part of the deal.”

“Mm.” Dustin turned back to his phone. “I guess that’s fair.”

Dustin cleaned the kitchen while Elliot drank another cup of coffee. It wasn’t so bad once you got used to it. They gotdressed and went to the smoothie place, then down to the river to walk. The day was beautiful. It helped.

At the mile turnaround point they stopped to look at the river. Elliot could feel Dustin wanting to ask what happened last night, and he just really,reallydidn’t want to tell him. Explain that he got embarrassed because he thought his dead uncle was watching them through the ceiling? It was so stupid.

Dustin was bending and flexing his knee, and Elliot watched from the corner of his eye as he stood at the rail that looked over the water.

“How is that doing?” he said.

Dustin sighed and put his forearms on the rail beside him. “I don’t know. They did a shitload of tests and it all came back normal, which is worse than if it hadn’t because now we just have no fucking idea what’s going on. I shouldn’t’ve played basketball.”

“Trying to keep up with me.”

“Yeah, this is all your fault, you little shit.” He looked down into the water for a long time. “I don’t know why I can’t just accept that I have to slow down.”

Elliot nodded quietly. He didn’t know how you did that either.

“I just don’t know how tonotgo as hard as I can. Which is so stupid: I’m fucking up this recovery. Because I can’t stop.” He looked at Elliot. “What is that about?”

Elliot shrugged, shaking his head. He tried to imagine himself in ten years, dealing with the same thing, and couldn’t do it. It was impossible to see that far ahead: all he could see was next season.

Dustin straightened up from the rail. “Anyway. Not your problem. Just an old man who can’t deal with the fact that he’s old.”

“You’re notold,” said Elliot, falling in step beside him.

“Right. I guess that’s why you keep calling me ‘grandpa’.”

Elliot sighed, laughing. “That’s not reallywhat that means. Well, it is, but it can also be like…a sign of respect.” Dustin looked sideways at him and Elliot blushed. He’d never imagined he might be telling The Great Bendito that to his face. He put his hands in his pockets and took a deep breath. “Yeah, you’re like…you know. An inspiration. Or whatever. I pretty much watched you all the time I was growing up. I have” –ay, fuck, this was embarrassing, but he’d started now, and anyway, it wasn’t as embarrassing as crying in front of the guy while he had his dick in your ass– “I have a bunch of your clips that I used to watch all the time. And anytime I had to do something hard, I would think, ‘What would Dustin Bennet do?’ Because I figured if you did it, I could.”

He thought about how often he’d said that to himself last year when Sal died, and stuck his hands in his pockets and kept his eyes on the ground.

Dustin seemed to be absorbing this as they walked in silence for a few steps. Then he stopped and caught Elliot by the arm. Elliot halted and turned in surprise.

“Don’t do it like I did,” said Dustin. “You know what I mean? Don’t make it the only thing in your life. It feels like it has to be everything. But maybe it doesn’t.”

“Doesn’t it?” Elliot held his gaze. “How else do you do it if you want to be the best?”

Dustin studied his face unhappily. “Yeah. I don’t know.”

“I want to be the best.”

“I know you do.”

“You’re the best.”

“I…guess I was. But I don’t think you wanna be the next Dustin Bennet.”

Ay, bendito. Something about that was so sad. Elliot hadnever thought about what it was like to be Dustin Bennetoffthe ice. Maybe he really didn’t want that.

And actually, now that he thought about it, he didn’twant to be himonthe ice, either. Like he told Drew.

He drew himself up a little. “You’re right,” he said, “I don’t wanna be the next Dustin Bennet. I wanna be the first Elliot Rodriguez.”

Bennet’s face cracked into a smile that was happy and sad and astonished, and he put his hand on the back of Elliot’s neck, and Elliot was suddenly terrified he was going to kiss him, right there in front of the joggers and unicyclists and dogs on paddle boards. But he just squeezed and let go and smiled, and said, “Good kid.”

Elliot’s heart swelled. They walked on.