Chapter 18 #2
“A new friend friend?” Alex sounded surprised, but pleased. “And here I remember you declaring that you were never dating again, after Brynn.”
“We’re not dating. Um. Not officially. Not like that.” But the more Dawson was looking at it, they kinda were. Just without saying the words.
“Like what, then?” Alex set his elbows on the table, looking fascinated.
Dawson was regretting bringing this up. The thought of officially dating, of being serious, still made him feel a little sick to his stomach. The thought of feeling something that could go sour, twisting uncomfortably, deep down.
Never mind how painful it would be if Aidan was right about something.
But being afraid of it didn’t mean he wasn’t already feeling it.
“Like, right now, it’s just . . .” Dawson trailed off. Sleeping together every night. Hanging out every day after practice. He’s the first person I want to call when something goes south, but I don’t even have to pick up my phone because he’s already right there.
When he thought it, it was hard not to see that Aidan might be right.
You cannot be this dense.
It was humiliating, but maybe he could be that dense.
“It’s just what?” Alex prompted. “I’ve never known you to be cagey about someone you’re interested in before.
When you first went out with Brynn, after like three or four dates, you announced to me that you were going to marry her.
” Alex made a face. “Come to think of it, maybe that’s a good reason to be cagey about it. ”
Dawson had forgotten about that too. Or maybe forgotten wasn’t the best term. Pushed it entirely from his head like he could actually pretend he’d never felt that sure, that happy, was probably more accurate.
“So, you’re feeling a little burned,” Alex continued. “But you like this . . .person?”
“It’s a guy,” Dawson said. “But that shouldn’t be a surprise.”
“I knew you were into both. If you’re worried it’s going to be a problem, it won’t.”
“I wasn’t. I was more worried about . . .” Dawson waved around his head, rolling his eyes. “My whole bullshit.”
“Fair,” Alex agreed. “So, who is he? You gonna tell me about him?”
Dawson probably should tell him exactly who it was, but he still hesitated. Pushed the last bit of melted cheese onto a cracker and shoved it in his mouth.
“Oh, you don’t want to tell me,” Alex said, both comprehension and a wide grin breaking across his face. “I bet it’s good. Whoever it is, it’s gonna make me want to tear my hair out, isn’t it?”
“Uh,” Dawson hesitated. More because Alex was looking increasingly delighted.
“God, please tell me it’s not Flynn.”
“What?” Dawson yelped. He had not expected Alex to say that, especially because Alex had especially shitty gaydar, and publicly, Aidan was straight as an arrow.
“Just saying. I remember back in your senior year of college, when we first started talking about me repping you, you followed him around like a puppy.”
“Aidan’s a friend.”
“So?”
“And,” Dawson added, muttering, “if you’d ever seen him puke in a bush, it would absolutely destroy any attraction you felt—if you’d ever felt any.”
“I’ll have to take your word for that,” Alex said. “So, it’s a teammate, then?”
Dawson rolled his eyes. “You’re not as smart as you think you are.”
“Yeah, I am. So who is it? Bishop? He’s out of the closet and hot. That’s your type, right?”
“I don’t have a type,” Dawson argued.
“Hot,” Alex retorted fondly. “That’s your type.”
“Fine, maybe.” But Cam was so much more than just a hot guy. Had been more than a hot guy from almost the very beginning.
Alex huffed out a frustrated sigh. “You’re not gonna tell me, are you? You said it was just a hookup, though. Do you want it to be serious?”
“I . . .” Dawson trailed off. He wanted to keep doing what they were doing for a long-ass time, that was for sure.
He didn’t think he’d ever get tired of it.
But whenever he thought of putting it into words, of standing in front of Cam, asking him to choose him and all his stupid fucking baggage, he felt sick.
When he thought of Cam saying yes, he felt sick. Thrilled for sure, but nauseous, too.
“Just because you and Brynn fell apart doesn’t mean you can’t start over with someone new,” Alex said, like it was just that easy.
Just a decision Dawson made. One minute he was on his own, isolated maybe, but in no danger of getting screwed over again, and the next he was half of a couple and anything could happen.
Like fear was no big deal.
Dawson swallowed it down.
“It’s . . .it’s not that,” Dawson lied.
Alex didn’t look convinced. “I think it’s exactly that. Come on, Daws. Who is it? Bishop? Not Jeffries—he’s too new to the team.”
“And straight,” Dawson added.
Alex sighed.
“Okay, fine, fine. It’s not . . .it’s not serious. It’s something, but it’s not serious.” At least saying that made the fear recede in the back of his throat, finally. “It’s Cam. Cameron Greene.”
Alex looked boggled. “The punter? The rookie punter?”
“What? He’s hot. He’s sweet. He’s—”
“He’s so young, though,” Alex said, having the nerve to sound judgmental about it. “I was sure you’d say it was Bishop.”
“Well, it’s not. It’s Greene.”
“Huh. What does he think about this?”
“We’re on the same page,” Dawson said. “It’s cool. It’s good.”
“Okay,” Alex said nodding. “Well, I can see why you’d like him.”
Dawson could think of a thousand ways he liked Cam, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear why Alex thought he liked Cam.
“He’s hot, yeah,” Alex continued, “and he’s sweet, like you say. Worships you, if I remember. You got a hard-on for some hero worship, Daws?”
Dawson frowned. “It’s not like that.”
“No?”
The fear was mostly gone now, and it was easier to just let his mouth run, everything he’d wanted to say about Cam unstuck.
“Yeah, he’s hot and he’s sweet and he thinks I’m a great kicker.
But he laughs and he smiles, like he’s so full of brightness he just has to share it.
Listens to me. Takes care of me. Best guy to hang out with, to grab dinner with or just sit on the couch and watch a movie with.
And the sex—” Dawson stopped abruptly, suddenly far too aware of what his word vomit sounded like.
“The sex, huh?” Alex teased, leaning forward. “That good?”
“Better,” Dawson said smugly.
Alex shot him an unimpressed look, which was confusing until he added, “Kind of sounds to me like you’re crazy about him. Definitely like you’re dating him.”
Dawson opened his mouth and then snapped it shut again.
“You even listen to yourself, Daws?” Alex asked gently.
“Trying not to, to be honest,” Dawson admitted under his breath.
If he listened to himself, he might not be able to keep pretending, and what would he do then?
“I want to, I want to listen to me and I want him to listen to me, too. But I can’t do that until I’ve resolved some of this.
I’m . . .I’m not sure how ready I am to commit to someone again. Even if I want to.”
How could he? When he was still slogging through the worst of the fear? When he was still wondering if he was paranoid at even the possibility of another person betraying him?
There were some days, when Cam looked at him, and the trust and affection in his gaze blew Dawson away.
But then there were other times—not whole days, not anything more than single moments, usually—when the fear threatened to swallow Dawson whole.
Where he imagined falling for Cam, deeply and completely, and it all went wrong after.
“I think the fact that you’re worried about this,” Alex said gently, “tells me—and should tell you—more about how ready you are. You want to be a good partner. That’s being a good partner.”
That was all Dawson wanted. To be good, and have Cam be good for him, back. Why did it have to be so goddamn complicated? A part of Dawson wanted to just say, it’s so good and easy and simple now, but he knew they couldn’t keep doing this without talking about it. Not forever.
Alex cleared his throat. “But hey, you got this. When you’re finally ready to introduce us? To make it official? Gonna be a good day.”
“Because you know all my embarrassing stories,” Dawson muttered, still, pretending his insides didn’t warm to the idea of Alex meeting Cam. Not as the rookie punter of the Thunder, but as Dawson’s boyfriend.
“Sure, we’ll call it that,” Alex said, his eyes twinkling.