Chapter 11 #3
Aidan raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t check on him?”
Shit.
He’d played it too casual, and now Aidan was worried he’d left Cam out to dry.
“Of course I did.” Checked on him with my tongue in his mouth.
“Daws,” Aidan warned.
“Will you quit worrying about him like he’s the next coming of Riley?” Dawson bitched. “He’s a grown man. Perfectly capable of handling his own shit.”
Perfectly capable of handling my shit, too.
“Unfair,” Aidan argued.
And yes, it was a tiny bit unfair that he’d brought Aidan’s little brother, Riley, into this. He knew what Aidan was like—how he had been, before he’d gotten his head out of his ass—about Riley.
“Hey, he’s allowed to make one crack about Riley,” Mo said. “You friend-matched us. And totally brainstormed conversational topics with Levi before you showed up tonight.”
Aidan huffed. “You guys should be friends. And not just so you can gang up on me. I know I’m . . .” He shrugged. Like he didn’t have to finish that particular sentence because both Dawson and Morris knew exactly how Aidan could be, better than just about anyone else.
“Ridiculous? Over-committed? Over-involved? The opposite of chill?” Mo smiled, like all of those things actually made him like Aidan better.
And Dawson discovered he agreed. Those things were what made Aidan Aidan, and as much shit as Dawson gave him, one of the huge benefits of coming here and playing for the Thunder had been reuniting with his old college buddy again.
“Yeah, yeah, I know it.” Aidan was smiling though. “Joke’s on you, though, ’cause Levi actually likes those things about me.”
“Proves he’s a good guy who’s worth you,” Dawson said. He wondered what Mo would say. There’d been a time when Aidan had hoped that Morris might be that guy for him. But then Levi had come along and Aidan had realized he and Mo were much better as just friends.
“Couldn’t agree more,” Mo said, and his smile was both warm and completely genuine.
Aidan looked visibly relieved by this pronouncement.
And maybe it hadn’t just been that Aidan thought he and Mo should be friends, but that he was still feeling out this new iteration of his friendship with Mo.
Dawson didn’t think he’d ever been brought along as a buffer before. Probably because everyone on earth would know he’d be fucking terrible at it. But who else was Aidan going to bring? He couldn’t bring Levi—that would have been more awkward, not less.
Dawson had been his only choice, but he still felt an unexpected surge of warmth towards his old friend.
“We’re all so happy for you,” Dawson said, reaching out and patting Aidan on the shoulder. “Finally growing up and falling in love.”
“For real,” Mo said and his gaze was soft and affectionate. Platonic affection, Dawson was relieved to realize.
They’d be okay. And maybe Aidan was actually right—though he’d never tell him that—and he and Mo could be friendly, too.
“You make it sound like I’m like your rookie,” Aidan complained. “I’m thirty-three.”
“Shhhh, dude, I don’t know if I’d say it that loud,” Dawson joked.
“God, you’re the worst.” But Aidan was smiling, looking not-very-secretly pleased at how this had all gone. “But seriously, you did make sure our new punter got home safe, in one piece? Made sure he was still alive this morning, right?”
Dawson sighed. Maybe this was inevitable. “Don’t be weird about it, okay?”
Aidan’s face morphed into an expression that made it crystal clear just how weird he was going to be about it. “You didn’t. While he was drunk?” he hissed.
“Oh my God, he was not drunk.” Dawson was not going to go into the exact ways he’d known that. But suffice it to say, the excellence of Cam’s hand-eye coordination had made that clear enough.
“Dude, congrats,” Mo said, and he raised his fist for a quick bump.
Aidan glowered. “Don’t encourage him. Cameron is young. Naive. Worships the ground Dawson walks on.”
“I know. It’s pretty great.” Dawson said it flippantly, but he meant it seriously, too. Because it wasn’t just Cam’s hero worship that was a balm on his wounded pride, but his relentless positivity, too. All that sunshine lighting up the dark shadowy corners of his mind.
“Daws,” Aidan said, frowning. “I mean it. Don’t fuck him up, okay?”
“Don’t fuck him up or don’t fuck him? ’Cause I’m only interested in one of those, and it can’t be a freaking mystery which it is.”
He’d known Aidan was going to be stupid about this, and so far he’d delivered on every expectation.
But Dawson imagined that if he’d found out later—it would’ve been so much worse.
There had to be some bonus for Dawson being at least reasonably upfront about this.
He wasn’t hiding anything, because there wasn’t anything to hide.
Nothing to be ashamed of. Cam was a friend and they were just enjoying each other. Having some much-needed fun.
“I wanna know how it went down,” Mo said, surprising Dawson.
Here Aidan was, scowling like an angry cat, and Mo was actually encouraging Dawson to talk about it. Maybe he’d dismissed Mo too easily.
“It wasn’t exactly a secret he was interested,” Dawson said.
“God, your ego,” Aidan muttered under his breath.
“Because he told me,” Dawson continued, shooting Aidan a smug grin. “Anyway, we were walking home, and he was being all sweet and sunshine-y and shit. You know how he is, everything’s gonna work out, Daws! and well . . .I can only resist so much.” Dawson shrugged.
“Unbelievable.” Aidan had the nerve to morph from an offended cat to a scandalized grandmother. Dawson was going to send Levi a text to tell him that whatever he’d been doing to unbend Aidan was clearly an ongoing process, and he should put his back into it, still.
“He kissed me, what was I supposed to do? Turn him down? He was into it. I was into it. Don’t tell me I need to draw you a diagram on how that goes,” Dawson said.
“I would’ve said yes, but then there’s Levi,” Mo said frankly. “And that guy does not need a diagram.”
Aidan went brick red again. “I’m not going to let you distract me with your comments about Levi, okay? Do I need to talk to him?”
“To Cam? About what?” Dawson knew Aidan would probably be like this.
But there was still a whisper of unease that rocked through him.
Did Aidan, one of his longest friends, actually think that he was no good for anyone?
It was one thing for him to worry about it, in the dark solitude of his empty apartment.
It was another entirely for a semi-objective third party to suggest it might be true.
“Dude,” Mo said, before Aidan could answer. “They’re hot for each other. Let them fuck it out. They don’t need a freaking intervention.”
“Mo,” Aidan chided, more gently. Because this was Mo, and he probably always would have a soft spot for the guy. Purely platonic now, but still soft.
“Did you stage an intervention when Ri got together with Landry?”
“No, but he wanted to,” Dawson said, because he was still smarting from Aidan’s comments.
“I did not,” Aidan protested. “I just wanted him to have someone good for him, and Landry’s one of the best guys I know. I was always happy for them.”
That uneasy feeling in the base of Dawson’s stomach grew.
“Please, please do not tell me you’re going to suggest Daws here isn’t a good guy, ’cause I barely know him but I’m gonna throw down for him, anyway.” Mo shot Aidan a steely look, born of long knowledge of Aidan’s bullshit.
“No, no, no. Of course not.” Aidan said it hurriedly, shooting Dawson an apologetic look that soothed over most—if not all—of the sting. “I didn’t mean it like that, Daws. Just . . .I know you’re still hurting. And that kind of hero worship, it feels good, right?”
“’Course it does,” Dawson agreed. “But that’s not all it is. Not anymore.”
He’d known that, too, of course. It was why the Bad Idea had morphed into a Less-Bad Idea.
“What do you mean?” Aidan asked, but at least he’d downshifted from demanding to genuine curiosity.
“We’re friends now. And now we’re friends who’re hooking up.” Aidan’s face did something complicated and Dawson had to add, “And that’s okay. We’re both good with it. We talked it over.”
“Less hot,” Mo said.
“Don’t encourage him, okay?” Aidan said wryly.
“Just saying. Having a long-drawn-out discussion when you’re supposed to be getting naked? Kind of a boner killer.”
“Oh, we did it before we got naked,” Dawson said. “After the security guard caught us making out in the basement of that big shiny gold bank building.”
“Oh my God,” Aidan muttered.
“It was raining, so we took the PATH. It wasn’t like I’m regularly in the habit of making out in public places,” Dawson retorted.
“I don’t care where you were,” Aidan said.
“Reminder: you were making out with your boyfriend in that closet,” Mo said. “At work, nonetheless.”
“For the millionth time, he had something in his eye.”
“Or in his pants,” Dawson crowed.
The waiter arrived then with their sushi. Aidan looked torn between indignation and relief that maybe he might get out of this whole conversation.
They shifted into small talk—talking about their next opponent, the Titans—and how spicy this wasabi was, and how Dawson still had his Iowan white-farm-boy palate. They finished eating, and Mo went to the bathroom after Aidan had grabbed the check.
“Hey,” he said, glancing up at Dawson as he finished filling out the credit card slip, “don’t freak out, okay?”
“Oh, God,” Dawson said, exhaling hard. “What is it now?”
“No, no, it’s not bad. Shit.” Aidan made a face. “I’m not doing this right. I just want to say I didn’t mean to be so judgmental about you and Cam. You’ve got a good head on your shoulders—”
“Maybe last year,” Dawson inserted.
“No,” Aidan said, shaking his head. “No, you do now. What happened last year had nothing to do with who you are as a person, Daws. Brynn wanting to leave and her dad stealing—that wasn’t you.
That was all them. And what happened after?
Anyone would’ve gone through it. You just had to do it in front of the whole fucking NFL. ”
Dawson took a deep breath, his throat suddenly tight. “Right.”
“I’m just saying, you’re a good person. Not were. Are. And if you’re starting something with Cam, even if it’s casual, then you know what you’re doing.”
“Do I?” Dawson questioned.
Aidan shot him a suffering look. “You told me yourself. You guys are friends. You’ve got chemistry. Who am I to say that it’s a bad idea that you hook up? You’re smart. Too smart to make a stupid mistake.”
“Nobody’s too smart to make a stupid mistake when their dick is involved,” Dawson observed.
Aidan huffed. “Dude, I’m trying to tell you it’s okay. Stop playing devil’s advocate here.”
Dawson knew it, though he wasn’t just doing it for Aidan’s sake, but his own. Still, whenever he thought about last night, regret was the last thing he felt.
Instead, all he experienced was an undeniable eagerness to do it again, as soon as possible.
“Okay,” Dawson said. Because he was going to do it again, and he didn’t want to feel guilty about it.
“Good.” Aidan gave him a nod and, as they got up from the table, a quick hug. “Don’t forget that, okay?”
As Dawson walked back to his building, he couldn’t help but think about it.
Sure, Dawson had an empty apartment waiting for him.
But Cam’s apartment was almost certainly empty too.
They didn’t have to be alone, now. They got along great.
Dawson thought he could even hang out in companionable silence with Cam.
And the sex had been hot, with indicators pointing towards it getting even better the more comfortable they became with each other.
Before he could overthink it, he pulled out his phone. You around? he sent.