Chapter 5 #3
Cam hugged him too, Duke balancing his drink in one big hand, pulling Cam into the group he’d been with—Nate and another defense player, whose name Dawson couldn’t remember.
“Oh yeah, apparently you’re not the only one crashing,” Aidan pointed out under his breath, but he looked pleased. Like this was actually what he’d been gunning for this whole damn time.
So much for keeping Aidan on his toes.
“Come on, you totally planned this,” Dawson said, eyeing the long table with its number of place settings. “It’s not a surprise that we’re all here.”
“Not all me,” Aidan said smugly. Levi appeared then, like magic, wrapping an arm around Aidan’s waist and tugging him in proprietarily.
Aidan glanced up into his boyfriend’s face, way too pleased with himself.
Dawson had forgotten about this—or purposefully pretended that he wouldn’t have to witness it.
At practice and in the team facility, they were fairly chill about the PDA.
Pretty much the whole team and the entirety of the coaching staff had either been told or figured out that the QB1 of the Toronto Thunder and his left tackle were dating, but they weren’t as obvious about it when they were at work.
But even though this was technically a team event, it wasn’t open to everyone, and Levi’s fingers were stroking Aidan’s waist and Aidan was gazing at him like he owned the best dick on the eastern seaboard.
“I’m gonna go uh . . .see Duke and Nate,” Dawson offered.
Aidan raised an eyebrow. “You actually know who Duke is?”
If he hadn’t been watching Aidan robot his way through life, thinking that all he’d ever need was a football and a playbook, Dawson might have thrown back that he was surprised that Aidan knew who Duke was, considering how wrapped up he seemed to be in Levi these days.
But the truth was, Aidan, as insufferable as his happiness was, deserved this, and Dawson was genuinely thrilled for his friend.
“He’s a cool guy,” Dawson said, tilting his chin up, like it hadn’t been Cameron who’d introduced them.
Aidan smiled knowingly. He’d probably guessed, but Dawson wasn’t going to call him on that, either.
“Sounds good,” Aidan said.
Aidan had been the poorest little rich kid forever. It was wonderful seeing him find someone who cared about who he was, not just about the trappings he’d always carried around, heavy but inevitable.
If Levi lifted those burdens, for an hour or an evening or even a fucking moment, Dawson would tolerate Aidan’s obvious coupling up.
There was nothing to do but head over to where Cam had ended up, like Dawson was following him around like a puppy.
It didn’t help that Cam’s grin widened when he saw Dawson coming in his direction.
“Hey,” Nate said, nodding. “Good to see you at one of these, Hall.”
“You gonna call me pathetic, too?” Dawson wondered.
“Nah,” Nate said, punching him lightly on the arm. “You’re solid, man.”
“Hey, if we’re calling anyone pathetic . . .” Duke trailed off and shot Nate a sharp look. “It’s Nate Dogg here.”
“What?” Cam asked, a frown creasing his forehead.
“Who’s that hockey player friend of Wes’?” Duke asked.
“He’s nobody,” Nate muttered.
“Now, that’s not true. I looked him up. He set all kinds of records in college. Was supposed to be like the next coming of Sidney Crosby or something.”
Nate made a disgruntled noise. “Dude, the guy isn’t even a forward, he’s a defenseman.
” He looked put out—because he was having to explain this, or because he was having to talk about the guy at all?
It was unclear. “Crosby’s a forward. You know, the guys that score points? You ever even watched a hockey game?”
“More than you,” Duke teased. “At least before you met a hockey player and realized how hot they are.”
“Oh, that hot friend of Wes’?” Cam asked.
The hockey player was hot. There was no question of it. Hotter than Aidan, even if Dawson removed the vomiting-into-a-bush handicap. But God, it was like Cameron thought every guy on the planet was attractive, except for him.
That should be good. It should not rankle Dawson. Shouldn’t get his back up.
But he didn’t like it.
Duke nodded enthusiastically. “The last time we went to Vault, guy tried to talk to Nate, and he just iced him out.”
“He’s such a dick,” Nate muttered under his breath. “Swans around like he’s real hot shit.”
It was at least nice to see someone else suffering, so Dawson said, “He kinda is real hot shit.”
Nate rolled his eyes, looking unimpressed. Like Ramsey was actually right here and he was hoping to take him down a peg or two. Or ten.
“We’re gonna have to agree to disagree on that,” Nate said. “He’s fucking annoying is what he is. I wish Wes would stop bringing him around.”
“Maybe they’re together,” Cam said, and the hopefulness in his voice, the sheer fucking optimism made Dawson feel so old. God, other than Aidan and Levi, it was like he’d become permanently allergic to happily-ever-afters.
When he saw one, all he could think of was all the ways it could catastrophically implode. That’s fucked up, a whole host of voices in his head chimed in.
Dawson didn’t know whether it was better or worse that one of them even belonged to his ex-wife.
“No way,” Nate said, tone edgy. “Wes’s still in love with his ex.”
“Well, the hot hockey player turned Lane down flat,” Duke said. “He told me. Was all pissed off about it.”
“Maybe he just didn’t want to fuck Lane.” Nate’s voice had gotten steelier.
“More like he didn’t want Lane to fuck him,” Duke muttered.
Nate smacked him on the arm. “We don’t do that kind of sexist, homophobic bullshit here, Adams.”
“What?” Duke whined.
“Getting fucked isn’t just for the smaller guy,” Cam said knowingly.
Dawson really hoped that nobody was looking at how he went hot all over, his face no doubt flushing red.
“Not that you’d know anything about it,” Nate added.
Duke shrugged, clearly unbothered. “I can’t say I’m into guys, but it is interesting. Plus the gossip is top-notch, especially on this team. Who else is fucking who? I want in on the ground floor.”
“Nobody but Aidan and Levi,” Nate said.
“Yet,” Duke retorted.
Dawson willed his flush away, but before anyone could comment on how poor of a job he was doing—or before, even worse, Cam noticed—Aidan announced that the waitstaff was about to come around and take orders, so they should all take their fucking seats sometime this year.
He ended up seated towards one end of the table, Wes—a late arrival, which after the whole convo Dawson had been having with Nate, Duke, and Cam, was probably a relief—on one side and Cam next to him. Within easy view of Dawson, which was both a good and a bad thing.
Wes was only a few years older than Cam, but Dawson, observing over the edge of the menu he was supposed to be reviewing, wondered if they’d end up friends.
He wanted Cam to have friends. Wanted him to be included. Wanted him to be a significant part of this team because he was, and it mattered to Dawson that his teammates saw him the same way Dawson was beginning to.
But despite that, there was a thread of jealousy, of envy, that wound its way through him.
He wanted to be the guy making Cam laugh.
He wanted Cam to be the sunshine brightening all his shadows, dismissing his heartbreak.
What if Cam did that for Wes, instead?
It would be fine. It would be fine. Because Dawson was not interested, and even if he was stupid enough to be, the reality was he was currently a wreck of a human. Hardly good for anyone in this state.
Dawson glanced pointedly back at his menu.
“You alright?” Nate asked.
It was embarrassing that he’d been spotted. “Sure, yeah,” Dawson said, as easy as he could.
“Sure thing. That tenseness in your shoulders has nothing to do with the rookie over there,” Nate said under his breath.
Dawson forced himself to relax. “I’m good,” he repeated. Nate didn’t look convinced, but it didn’t matter because that was the moment the waiter appeared next to him, ready to take his order.
He ordered a steak and a salad, side of mushrooms, and a glass of red wine, telling himself that they just had the walkthrough tomorrow.
It was a good event, full of laughter and some pointed teasing, but then Aidan had been hosting these dinners for years. Still, he appeared to be really relaxing into the job in a way he hadn’t ever before, and Dawson was sure that was entirely because of the guy on his left.
Levi was in great form tonight, arm casually slung around Aidan’s shoulders. He’d nudge him every minute or so, and whatever observations he was murmuring into Aidan’s ear were making him laugh in a way that Dawson didn’t think he’d ever seen before.
The dinner wound to a close, guys beginning to depart in pairs.
A few of them were making plans to go out for another drink, after, but Dawson knew he had too much resting on this game—every game, if he was being honest—to spend too much time drinking two days before he had to be in top shape, physically and mentally.
He collected Cam and detoured on the way out of the restaurant to say goodbye to Aidan.
Aidan, whose head was tipped in close to Levi.
They weren’t kissing currently, but it wasn’t too much of a stretch to imagine they might’ve been a minute ago, or Levi might say fuck it and plant one the moment Dawson and Cam left.
“Hey, we’re off,” Dawson said, and Aidan rose, giving him a quick hug. “Thanks for thinking of us.”
Cam was silent next to him. Thinking of how he wished he might be the guy in Levi’s position?
Dawson needed to get his head examined, that much was clear. He’d mentally imagined Cameron with practically every guy here during this stupid dinner. Every guy except him.
“’Course,” Aidan said. “Feel free to show up every week.” He shot Cam a separate smile, bright and genuinely welcoming. “You too, rook.”
“Uh yeah, sure. Thanks,” Cam stammered.
A minute later they were on the sidewalk again, Dawson pulling up the Uber app on his phone.
“Should I warn Levi you’re going to try to steal his man?” Dawson half-joked, trying to ignore the burn of jealousy in the base of his stomach.
“No. No. God.” Cam rolled his eyes. “You’re embarrassing.”
That much was true. It was genuinely embarrassing how much he was beginning to crave the rookie’s attention on him and nowhere else.
Dawson slipped his phone into his pocket and tried to ignore the brisk wind that had not been nearly so brisk a few hours ago. “Oh, Aidan,” he said in a mock-seductive voice, “you’re so hot. So good at football. Let me punt all your balls.”
Cam choked out a laugh, and Dawson wanted to pat himself on the back for the flags of color rising hot on his cheeks.
“That’s not . . .trust me. That’s not what I want to say. Or who I want to say it to.”
Is it Wes? Lane? That hockey player everyone’s talking about?
But Dawson didn’t ask because he didn’t want to hear the answer.
It wasn’t going to be him. Cam worshipped his leg. The kicking prowess that he’d once possessed as easy as breathing that now felt distant and slippery. Impossible to grasp.
“Okay, sure,” Dawson said and heard the disbelief in his voice.
But Cam just laughed again, nudging Dawson’s side with his elbow. Sharp but gentle. His eyes were wide and guileless, full of stars.
Dawson looked away.
The car pulled up to the curb a second later, saving Dawson from whatever very stupid thing he’d been tempted to say or do next.
But after they’d slid into the back seat, Cam let his arm fall into the middle, brushing against Dawson’s.
“Thanks for inviting me,” he murmured, his words barely audible over the Leafs game the driver had on, the play-by-play droning endlessly.
“It was no big deal.”
“A big deal to me. Making sure it was . . .making sure I was getting out, seeing people. Seeing new places. Means a lot to me.” Cam’s tongue flicked out, licked his bottom lip.
Dawson knew he should look away. Knew Cam wasn’t flirting with him, but he still wanted it. Wanted to bask in that sunshine, even when it wasn’t meant for him.
“Anytime.” Dawson tried for breezy casual but didn’t quite get there.
He finally tore his eyes away from Cam’s face, watching as Toronto at night flashed by the car window.
Less than a minute later, the driver pulled up at the entrance to their building and they climbed out.
Cameron was at least quiet as they walked towards the elevator. No more earnest thank-yous and no more big puppy eyes.
That should’ve made it easier for Dawson to bid him goodbye when the elevator opened at his floor, but it didn’t quite.
Because after he was gone, Dawson felt the empty space next to him as acutely as he ever had.