Page 90 of Wingmen

Dustin sighed. He didn’t feel qualified to teach anyone anything about asking for help. This was the first time he’d ever done it.

“Elliot told me you called your brother?” she said.

“Yes. He’s coming here.”

“Good. Because my son will not be looking after you.”

“No. I wouldn’t want him to do that.”

More quiet. The humming of the line. “I guess you don’t want me to tell Elliot you called,” he said.

Camila sighed. “I already told him I would. He wasn’t happy about it. But we’ve been keeping things from each other for a very long time. So I think lying to him is not the way.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” She paused. He sensed the conversation was ending, and weirdly didn’t want it to. “Well, I’ve said my piece. I don’t know what Elliot will do. But I wish you the best, whatever happens. You’ve had a close call. But I hope you’re going to be okay.”

“I hope so too,” said Dustin, still not wanting the conversation to end. Still not entirely convinced this was a close call and not the beginning of something much, much worse. “Hey, and you have my number, now. So…”

She laughed as firmly and deeply as she spoke. “Yes. Don’t think I won’t use it. Que te vaya bonito, Dustin.”

“Okay. Thank you, Camila. Goodbye.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Elliot

He went back to Dustin’s around midnight.

A smart person would’ve probably slept on it. But a smart person wouldn’t have gotten themselves into a position where they cared so much about a washed-up old man who couldn’t even make an omelet without it sticking to the pan.

The doorman and security guard recognized him this time as he mumbled hello in the lobby. He stood in the elevator with his hands in his pockets and watched the numbers tick over.

Dustin opened the door and they stood looking at each other for a long time. And even though he looked broken, he was still – frustratingly and heartbreakingly – magnificent.

“You don’t have to be here,” said Dustin. “My brother is coming.”

“I’m not here for you.” Elliot was surprised at how level his voice was. “I’m here for an apology.”

Dustin nodded. “I’m really sorry I lied to you in Vancouver. And that I’m such a little fucking moron.”

“When does your brother get here?”

“Day after tomorrow.”

Elliot took off his hat. “Well, you need an adult in the room until then,” he said, and pushed Dustin aside as he stepped through the door.

He madeeggs and they sat at the kitchen island and ate them. Dustin said it was the middle of the night and he wasn’t hungry, and Elliot told him bullshit, eat your eggs, asshole. Dustin got quiet and said he probably couldn’t.

Elliot let it go.

Mostly, he wanted to knowWhy?and disappointingly, Dustin couldn’t explain himself. Was it because of his knee? Dustin said not really, but…kind of. Was it because of what Elliot said that day in the locker room? Also not really, but…kind of. But it wasn’t Elliot’s fault: he wanted to be very clear about that.

“No shit,” said Elliot. “I didn’t make you take them.”

Dustin turned his water glass around between his hands. He wasn’t drinking that either. “Your mom told me you had some history.”

Elliot’s stomach turned over as he stared through his own glass at the way the water warped things on the other side. “My uncle died,” he said, and hoped they could leave it at that. He felt wrung out from the conversation with his mom. It was a good conversation and he was glad they’d had it, but he didn’t have the strength to go through it all again with Dustin.