Chapter 13 #2
He didn’t let himself relax, even though anything under thirty-five was a cinch, until the last twenty-five-yarder went through the uprights.
“Good job,” Marty said, coming up to him. Dawson fist-bumped him tiredly. “Little uneven in spots, but a good effort.”
Dawson made a face. He wasn’t about to tell Marty why a certain section had been both easier and harder.
“Eh,” Dawson said. He could’ve focused harder. He could’ve probably made one more than he had. But like Marty said, it was a pretty decent effort and he wasn’t going to beat himself up about it.
“You’re getting there, kid.” Marty patted him on the shoulder. “Good practice. Take a load off, okay?”
Dawson nodded absently. He didn’t disagree. Could he be better? Sure, he could always be better. But he was handling this shit better than he had during the summer.
The first time Marty had ever made him do this, the second day of training camp, he’d missed a hell of a lot more, the fatigue and soreness in his arms distracting him from what he was doing with his form.
After, when he’d slumped down on the bench, emptied out with exhaustion and frustration, Marty had put a hand on his knee and explained, matter-of-factly, without an ounce of sympathy, that the ladder trained you to empty the mind of distractions.
Dawson had experienced two simultaneous thoughts: one, he was really fucking glad Marty hadn’t seemed to feel sorry for him, because that might’ve been the straw that broke the camel’s back, and two, that he’d truly believed before that his focus was solid.
That he was better than any other kicker in the NFL at putting it all aside and doing his job.
But then, he’d realized later, when he’d lain on his couch, ice packs strapped to every limb, that either he’d gotten complacent, or that had never really been true.
Because if it had been, then the prior season wouldn’t have gone the way it did.
If he was right, he’d still be in Baltimore, not alone on a cheap IKEA couch in an empty apartment in Toronto.
Dawson couldn’t say that was the turning point, but he looked back and that was the first moment he’d really wanted to fight to get his career back. His life back.
After he dragged himself into the locker room and changed, taking his sweet time under the hot water of the shower, there was nothing more he wanted than to go home and collapse back on that same couch.
Order takeout. Veg out in front of the TV and hope that he might still be able to raise his arms tomorrow.
Abstractedly, he knew that he and Cam had carpooled this morning, but him coming up to Dawson after he finished dressing was a nudge that not only wasn’t it up to him, he had plans.
“Come on,” he told Cam, “let’s go grab some dinner.”
“Yeah?” Cam looked eager, like a puppy. “Where at? Are we exploring again?”
He wouldn’t have said that his plan for the night was particularly elaborate. A noodle place that Nate had recommended, and then back to one of their places. Maybe some reciprocal blowjobs. Falling into bed. Cam’s head resting on his shoulder, his arm around Cam’s waist.
But he was tired.
Still, he tried to dredge up the enthusiasm he’d had this morning, when he’d formulated the plan over coffee and listening to Cam humming in the shower.
“Yeah, we can do that,” Dawson said.
But instead of asking where they were going, Cam just gave him a look. “Come on,” he said, “I’ve got this.”
“Got what?” Dawson was confused. He could marshal the last of his brain cells together. Find some unknown well of strength.
But Cam was already wrapping an arm around his forearm and tugging him in the direction of the parking lot as he pulled the keys out of Dawson’s hand.
“What are you doing?” Dawson asked again when Cam only shook his head.
“You’re dead on your feet,” Cam said. “We’ll go out some other time.”
He slipped into the driver’s side like he drove Dawson’s car all the time.
“I can drive,” Dawson grumbled. “I’m not that bad off.”
“Sure,” Cam said lightly. But he wasn’t budging, and so Dawson finally opened the passenger side door and got in.
They were halfway back to their building when Cam turned to him and asked, “What do you want to order for dinner? We’ll get it delivered. I know when I get overworked like that, I always want a hot bath. You don’t have a bathtub at your place, but I’ve got one at mine.”
That seemed to be the biggest difference between their two places—both nearly the exact same layout, both equally nearly empty—but Dawson had a bigger shower and no tub, and like Cam had said, he’d gotten the tub.
“You don’t need to—”
But Cam interrupted him before he could finish the admonition. “If you’re gonna say you don’t need taking care of, save it, okay?”
“Why?”
Rolling his eyes, Cam said, “It’s okay to let someone else handle shit for once—and don’t you dare fucking say I can’t. I was okay before you came along.”
Cam didn’t need to specify what he meant when he said before you came along. Obviously it wasn’t the beginning of camp. Or even the beginning of the season. Back then, Dawson’s gaze had slid over Cam like he was just there, like he wasn’t anything really worth noting.
But back then, it had been the same with every other guy on the team. Even Aidan, who’d been an old friend.
Different. Not what you’re used to. A cruel and unusual punishment, exacted by an unforgiving universe.
Now, Dawson was beginning to understand that this change wasn’t all bad.
Marty was a good coach. He was learning things.
To find his focus when it didn’t want to be found.
To be more graceful under pressure. To weather any storm.
Then there was Cam, who was new and different, but the kind of new and different that Dawson had realized he wanted.
“Okay,” Dawson finally said. “If you want to, I’m not gonna stop you.”
“Oh, you’re gonna let me, huh?” Cam teased, glancing over, the look in his eyes soft.
“Seems like I can’t stop you,” Dawson said. Even though he probably could. Well, normally, he might be able to. But probably not tonight.
“What do you want for dinner? Still want noodles? Chinese? Pizza?”
“Pizza?” Dawson’s mouth watered. They were both usually pretty vigilant about the meal plan, and pizza was not on the meal plan.
“I think you’ve earned it today,” Cam said. “Aidan told me about this place he likes. Not sure if they deliver downtown . . .” But at the next light, he was on his phone, calling them up.
Dawson barely paid attention to the conversation, except to chime in that he wanted anything but pineapple, thank you very much.
Cam shot him a look that said, you’ll take what I give you and like it, and that shouldn’t have been a turn-on. Not when Dawson was as tired as he was, but it turned out that just about everything Cam wanted to do was a turn-on these days.
God, he’d missed having regular sex. Because that was what it had to be, right? All those extra endorphins he didn’t usually have, swimming through his system, making Cam so goddamn irresistible.
Cam hung up the phone and drove them the rest of the way to the building, parking Dawson’s car in his numbered spot without being prompted.
It made Dawson wonder, absently, just how long Cam had been paying attention.
“They’re gonna make an exception and deliver here,” Cam said, checking his phone when they got into the elevator. “Should be here in about thirty. You wanna get in the tub first?”
Cam’s voice was so soothing and comforting, it was easy to just nod his head, and then a second later, he thought about what Cam had just said. “Wait, what do you mean they’re gonna make an exception?”
“Technically we’re out of their delivery zone, but when I dropped Aidan’s name, the guy was open to it,” Cam said.
“Aidan’s name and the promise of a big tip, probably,” Dawson said.
Cam flushed. “Maybe.”
The elevator dinged open, and as they headed down the hall to Cam’s apartment, Dawson nudged him. “You didn’t have to do that. We could’ve gotten anything.”
“You had a rough day,” Cam said. “Honestly, it’s fine. I don’t mind.”
“Just—”
Cam opened the apartment door and took Dawson’s hand, squeezing it firmly. “Stop it,” he said. “It’s okay. You’re tired. Not just physically, but mentally. I know what kind of toll that sort of practice takes on you. I’ve been there. Just let me handle it, okay?”
The last of Dawson’s anxiety drained out of him. It was okay to put himself into Cam’s hands, at least for a night.
“Come on,” Cam said, tugging him in the direction of his bedroom and its attached bathroom. “I’ll get the tub going.”
It was a big tub, nice and spacious, long enough and wide enough for two, probably, but Cam didn’t seem like he was getting in as he ran the water.
Sure enough, Cam looked over at him expectantly as the tub began to fill. “You gonna strip down?” he asked, his expression almost innocent.
“You just wanna get me naked.”
“Pretty much always,” Cam confirmed with a bashful grin.
It was flattering. Dawson knew he looked good. But he hadn’t really cared in so long, his body morphing into a tool for his job more than a way to give and receive pleasure.
Dawson let himself look Cam up and down. He was in gray sweatpants, clinging to his slender thighs, an old T-shirt tight across the chest. He looked good, too. But then, he’d always looked good to Dawson—once he’d learned to pay attention, anyway.
“You getting in with me?”
“Not this time.” Cam flashed him a smile that promised that some other time, he wouldn’t be saying no.
“Aw,” Dawson said, disappointed even though he’d known what Cam was going to say.
Cam just patted him on the cheek. “Come on, baby. Get in. I’ll listen for the pizza.”
He’d just taken a shower, hot water on his sore, overworked muscles, but floating in the tub felt heavenly.
Tipping his head back, Dawson closed his eyes and just let himself exist.
When he opened them again, the bathroom was dim and he realized Cam must’ve turned off most of the lights. There was a big fluffy towel sitting on the edge of the tub.
He heard hushed voices and realized a knock on the door must’ve dragged him out of his hot-water-induced stupor.
Getting out was going to suck, but Dawson braced for it and realized that the towel was still warm—had Cam even put it in the dryer for a few minutes to heat it up?—and that made it less awful when he finally dragged himself out of the cozy cocoon of the tub.
He dried off and threw his sweatpants and T-shirt back on, heading into the living room.
Cam was in the kitchen, and there was a big pizza box on the counter, delicious smells wafting out of it.
“Hey,” he said, smiling, “I was just about to go grab you.”
“I’m good,” Dawson said, and realized he meant it. “Where do you want to eat?”
“Why don’t we throw something on the TV?” Cam suggested. “You want to find something while I put these plates together?”
That seemed like the very least Dawson could do. He flipped the TV on and then realized it wasn’t as easy as it seemed, because he had no idea what he should put on.
For a split second, his fingers hovered over the remote buttons, but then he realized exactly what he should pick.
A minute later, Cam walked in, carrying two plates filled with salad and heaping with several slices of pizza each.
“Hey, you—” Cam stopped and then glanced over at Dawson, a surprised smile on his face. “You want to watch Fast and Furious?”
“You told me I should watch it,” Dawson said.
“There’s like a billion of them, though,” Cam warned. “And they’re very stupid.”
“The good news is that’s about the speed I’m up for tonight—very stupid. Lots of brainless explosions. No thinking required.”
It sounded really good, and it turned out it was even better than it sounded. Him tucked under Cam’s arm, and then after Cam took the plates back to the kitchen and put the food away, Cam tucked under his arm, sleepy and soft.
For the last five nights they’ve shared a bed for four of them.
If Dawson was thinking about it, he might be worried that it was too much, too fast, but it was hard to be worried, especially when they seemed to be on the same page.
Especially when the movie ended and Cam stretched, yawning, and after getting to his feet, put out a hand for Dawson.
For a second Dawson thought he might lead him to the front door and finally tell him he needed to go home, but there was no hesitation at all in Cam’s footsteps as they passed by the front entry and headed instead to Cam’s bedroom.