Chapter 11
It was the weirdest walk of shame Cam had ever performed. Probably because it didn’t feel like much of one at all.
He woke up when he heard the sound of water turning on, and for a second he couldn’t figure out why someone else was in his apartment.
But then he opened his eyes and realized that he wasn’t in his apartment.
The walls were just as bare and white as his, though, and it only took a second for him to realize it was Dawson’s.
Memories from last night filtered through him, and his breath caught in his throat.
Dawson walked back into the bedroom, shadowed by the night-light in the bathroom. Still naked. No shame on his face.
Though, he was so good-looking—Cam’s fingers itched to touch him again—why shouldn’t he be comfortable in his own skin?
“Hey, didn’t mean to wake you,” Dawson said as he slid back between the covers.
He wasn’t hungover. Just thirsty, a pale throb in the back of his skull. Easy to dismiss with some water and a very large mug of coffee.
“It’s alright,” Cam croaked.
Last night, he’d tried to easily bridge the gap between friends and more, so Dawson wouldn’t feel out of practice about it.
But this morning, it was Cam who felt awkward.
He’d never woken up in someone else’s bed like this before.
Never rolled over and wondered if they could pick right back up where they left off.
Dawson’s hazel eyes gleamed knowingly as his head hit the pillow. He put a hand on Cam’s waist and tugged him closer. “You know,” he murmured, “that toothbrush still has your name on it.”
Maybe Dawson hadn’t done this in a while, but he still knew what to say now. Still knew what Cam wanted and didn’t know how to ask for.
Nodding and blushing, Cam rolled out of bed.
Took care of his business with the toilet.
Brushed his teeth. Stared in the mirror for a second.
There were a handful of marks on his chest that were new.
He pressed a thumb into the bruise and felt his mouth go even drier at the spark of something that crawled under his skin.
When he came back to bed, Dawson was waiting for him and wasted zero time, pulling him underneath his body and it got heated fast. Hands and mouths everywhere, and Cam came with Dawson’s teeth in his shoulder, one hand on his cock and the other digging into one of the bruises he’d made on his hip.
“Didn’t think I’d like that,” Cam said, still breathless as he sat on one of Dawson’s barstools, watching as he made them eggs.
“No?” Dawson smirked in a way that was totally not hot at all. Nope. “I got a few tricks up my sleeve, still.”
They ate their eggs side by side at the kitchen counter while Dawson’s knee brushed every few seconds against Cam’s.
Cam finished his second mug of coffee and offered to do the dishes, but Dawson just waved him off. “My housekeeper’s coming later today. She can do it,” he said.
There didn’t seem to be any other reasons to stay, but Cam was still hesitating, acutely aware that Dawson was still looking at his mouth.
But before he could suggest going back to bed, his phone rang.
A quick glance at the screen told him he shouldn’t ignore it.
“I should probably take this. It’s my dad,” Cam said, realizing a second after he said it that probably made him look young and a little stupid. God, he could’ve called his dad back in five minutes—or an hour. But he’d said it, and there was nothing to do but own it.
But there was zero judgment on Dawson’s face. He reached out and curled a hand around Cam’s shoulder. “Have a good day off and I’ll see you tomorrow?” he said, and Cam nodded and that was that.
A moment later his shoes and jacket were back on, and he was in the hallway, picking up his dad’s call.
“I texted you,” Shane said when he picked up on the last ring.
“Oh. I hadn’t been looking at my phone.” He hadn’t looked at it once this morning. Hadn’t even realized it was still in his jeans pocket until it had started ringing.
“Busy night?” his dad asked slyly.
“Uh.” Cam genuinely tried to not share anything about his sex life with his dad, not because he wouldn’t approve—as long as he was safe, Shane hadn’t ever cared—but because it was awkward as fuck.
Once in a while, he would gently admonish Cam that someday he would want someone for more than just a fun night in bed, and he should at least be open to that possibility.
Well, Cam was not going to tell his dad that this theoretical person had finally arrived on the scene and that it was his veteran kicker.
“Oh, you don’t have to tell me anything,” Shane said, chuckling under his breath. “Don’t worry about that. Just want to make sure you’re doing good after yesterday.”
“Ugh, that punt in the second quarter. I know. I should’ve pinned them right against the line, and I didn’t.” Cam walked into the elevator, leaning against the back wall for the trip down three floors.
“Kiddo,” his dad said, “I wasn’t thinking about that at all. Four wins in a row, I figured you’d be celebrating with the team.”
“Oh. Yeah. I uh . . .I did. We went out to that bar again.”
“We?”
Cam made a face as the elevator doors dinged open. He walked down the hall to his apartment. As expected, it was indeed cold and empty, that sliver of Lake Ontario barely visible out of the window.
He told himself it was fine. He wouldn’t give himself away the moment he said Dawson’s name.
“Me and a bunch of the guys. Aidan and Levi. Nate. Trevor and Lane. And Dawson too. Of course.” Then he’d had to make it awkward by tacking Dawson’s name on at the very end and treating it like him being there was special.
He flopped down on the couch, setting the phone on his stomach and turning speakerphone on.
“Dawson, huh?”
Cam groaned in the back of his throat. “Dad.”
“Just saying. He’s cute, you know? Little older than you—”
“I’m not going to propose marriage to him,” Cam interrupted.
“I wouldn’t think so. Not yet anyway. He just got divorced, didn’t he?”
“Yeah,” Cam said. Told himself to fucking shut up. But he didn’t. Of course. “Not that recently.”
His dad just laughed. “So it’s like that, huh?”
Cam groaned again. “Daaaad,” he whined. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“This just a crush on a hot older guy or . . .” He trailed off.
“Or what?”
Finally, his dad sounded even a tiny bit embarrassed. “You really want me to say it? I kinda thought you didn’t.”
“I don’t. I don’t.” But he wanted to talk about it.
Last night had been so unexpected, but so good.
Cam had hoped that they’d eventually end up in bed together—once Dawson had actually seen him, it was like he couldn’t stop looking; their chemistry so intense, so real—but he hadn’t imagined it would happen so soon.
“Kinda sounds like you do,” Shane teased gently. “We can talk about it if you want. I know you don’t have many friends there yet.”
He wasn’t wrong. Cam did have other friends, though.
Guys he’d played with. Some of his ex–friends with benefits.
But even though Dawson had never really hidden his interest in both sexes, Cam felt like with everything that had happened to him last year, maybe he wouldn’t appreciate Cam spreading his private business.
Even when it was only to friends who’d probably keep their mouths shut.
But he knew his dad would.
Besides, who was his dad gonna tell, even if he was inclined to? Mav, the bartender down at the Wagon Wheel Grill and Bar? His veterinary clients?
“It’s . . .we slept together last night,” Cam said in a rush.
“He didn’t—”
Cam knew what his dad was going to ask before he even got the whole question out. “No,” he said firmly. “It wasn’t like that at all. We’d both had a few drinks, but I wasn’t drunk. And he didn’t push me. I . . .I probably pushed him.”
Shane laughed. “’Course you did.”
“And,” Cam added, “we had talked about it, a little. Before last night. So he knew I was . . .you know. Interested.”
“Kiddo, you’ve been crushing on that guy forever. I remember how excited you were when he signed with the Thunder this summer.”
“That was just a competency kink. He’s so good.” But Cam heard how dreamy his tone had gotten.
It was probably not just a competency kink, anymore. Or if it was, it wasn’t just because Dawson was so damn good at kicking a football, it was because he was that good of a kisser and so fucking amazing with his hands . . .and his mouth . . .and his dick was just really, really great . . .
“Yeah, we get it. He’s real dishy.” His dad was laughing now. “I’m happy for you, Cam. You deserve a good guy in your life.” There was an unspoken finally at the end of that sentence.
Cam had known he should’ve prefaced this whole thing by explaining that it was casual. A friendly hookup. His dad wouldn’t have understood it, but that was fine. He was old and didn’t understand the breadth of the gray area between platonic buds and wildly in love.
When Cam didn’t immediately respond, trying to formulate exactly the right sentence to explain what he and Daws discussed, his dad groaned.
“No, don’t tell me you’re gonna do this casual business again.”
“It’s fine, Dad,” Cam argued.
“You know, you can like people. You can date people. If you wanted to, of course.” Shane tacked that last bit on, belatedly. Cam rolled his eyes, even though he was pleased, deep down, that his dad cared so much about what he wanted.
Still, of course, he was trying to fit Cam and Cam’s feelings into a normal-sized shape. But then, this morning Cam kept trying to not cram his own feelings into that normal-sized shape.
It had been hard, because even though Cam had never dated before, he imagined that might be what it would be like in the mornings.
Slow and sleepy and nice.
Rotating around each other like they were meant to be.
“Yes, Dad, I do know that. But it’s not like that. He’s . . .you said it yourself. He just got divorced. We’re both on a new team. It doesn’t have to be serious.”
Shane hummed under his breath.