“No.” Wes bit the corner of his mouth hard enough that Dustin could see his teeth. He wanted to tell him to cut it out, not to hurt himself, but that wasn’t his place. Not anymore anyway and not ever again. “So I guess this is goodbye.”
“Yeah. I’m going to hang up now,” Dustin said. They always had this ritual of saying they were going to hang up then talking another hour, but this time he meant it.
“Okay.” Wes’s face stayed still on the screen. Must have already hit end.
“Goodbye,” Dustin whispered. “I’m going to miss you like crazy,” he added to his empty, hollow living room before powering off his phone and pouring another drink.
* * *
I’m going to miss you like crazy. The words were still ringing in Wes’s ears when his messenger buzzed with a new message.
Dustin? Wes’s heart skittered, searching for a rhythm, but all that adrenaline was wasted as it was Sam sending a panda video and an invitation to chat. Last thing Wes wanted to do was to flip on his camera again, but this was Sam, and he couldn’t say no. He hit the accept button and did some deep breaths, hoping he didn’t look as wrecked as he felt.
“You look like something the dog dragged in,” Sam said as soon as the camera came on, confirming his suspicions.
“Hello to you too.” He forced a smile out. “Sorry. I’m going on almost no sleep in the last two days.”
“Oh no! You need sleep.” Sam leaned forward, long dark hair coming forward to frame her face. She was good at pretending like Wes was the one who needed worrying over. “Insomnia again or the move?”
“Both.” Wes sighed and stretched back out on the bed, keeping the camera on his face. He’d curled forward after finishing with Dustin, like that could stop all the feelings and emotions ricocheting through him. But he wasn’t going to be able to spend the rest of his life in the fetal position, tempting as that was.
“So...tell me about the new team. Any cute guys?”
“Samantha. This is work. I’m not even looking at anyone like that.” It wasn’t a lie, precisely. He’d never before been tempted to get involved with someone he knew on the team or from his duties—there had been a helicopter pilot last year who’d been a bit flirty, but Wes hadn’t pursued it, not wanting the hassle. Joe4Joe had just been easier—guys like Dustin who got it but wouldn’t have the issues of a real-world relationship.
But you would for Dustin. He was all kinds of temptation, and yeah, Wes had started to have ideas that he might be worth whatever trouble a real-world friendship or more would cause. Fuck it. He tried to focus on Sam’s rundown of the cute guys on his last team, but inside, he was busy calling himself fifty kinds of idiot for even entertaining the thought. And now that he knew Dustin was one of his commanding officers? No question. His fanciful ideas had to die a quick death.
“I’m serious. That Anderson guy was ripped.” Sam giggled. She was all of eighteen, and Wes would no more let her near a teammate than he’d let her try out skydiving. “You need a boyfriend so I can live vicariously through you.”
“Not happening,” Wes said curtly. “Gotta focus on the job.” Remember that, he lectured himself. Doing his job to the best of his ability was the only thing that mattered here.
“Darn.” Sam made a silly face. “At least one of us is getting out though.”
“Oh?” Wes was pretty sure he wasn’t going to like this.
“A friend is having a party on Saturday. She asked me to DJ. Paying me fifty dollars and everything.”
“Sam...you sure you’re up for a late night?” He couldn’t help it. Worrying over her was ingrained in him, as natural as blinking. “Being on your feet that long—”
“Will be fine. I thought you’d be happy for me.” She pouted, huffing noisily. “I couldn’t wait to tell you. My dream is coming true. First a few small parties, then maybe something bigger. You’ll see.”
“I am happy for you. And I know how badly you want to DJ. I just worry about you overdoing it. What did mom say?”
“I haven’t exactly told the ’rents yet.” She rolled her eyes. “They’re going to be worse than you. ‘Sam, your heart’ and ‘Sam, the germs’ and all that.” She did a decent imitation of his father’s deep Southern voice.
“Your heart is pretty precious,” Wes reminded her. “And you don’t want to risk an infection. But I guess that’s why there’s hand sanitizer. And maybe you could nap—”
“Yes, Mom.” Sam groaned. “Do I tell you to double-check your bootlaces or to count your ammo?”
“Point taken.” Wes really didn’t want to fight with her, so he made his voice lighter. If she was bound and determined to DJ, nothing he said would make a difference. She was that stubborn.