Chapter 20 #2
That was just bullshit, and Cam wasn’t going to pretend otherwise. Slipping around the counter, he pulled his dad into a tight hug. “No,” he told him firmly. “I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad you came. I missed you too.”
“You were just close at Western. I knew this would be an adjustment . . .”
Cam got it. It had been hard for him, too. “We’re gonna figure it out,” he promised. “But now I gotta get to practice.”
“You driving in with Dawson?” his dad asked pointedly, grinning.
“Yeah,” Cam said. “But I’ll be home for dinner. We’ll go out. There’s a lot of good places around here. And if you don’t wanna go out, we can always order in.”
“Yeah, apparently you’ve gotten good at that,” Shane teased, reaching out to ruffle his hair. “And you know Dawson is welcome, too, if he wants to join.”
He’d assumed that, but he wasn’t sure he’d ask. Dawson had seemed chill enough but Cam didn’t want to force the issue so soon, even if he already knew he’d miss him tonight.
Things with Dawson were so new, and still a little unsteady, and then there was the specter of Richard Ackerman hovering. The last father of a partner that Dawson had had, it had gone just about as badly as it could go.
“We’ll see,” Cam said noncommittally.
“Alright.” His dad reached out, squeezing his shoulder. “Have a good practice, kid.”
Dawson was already waiting in the car when Cam arrived in the parking garage. When Cam slipped into the passenger seat, Dawson leaned over and gave him a nice long kiss. Nice enough and long enough that Cam was disappointed when Dawson pulled away, shooting him an apologetic grimace.
“Wish we could keep doing that, but traffic’s bad today. We gotta get going.”
Cam sighed. “I missed you last night.”
“Yeah,” Dawson agreed as he pulled out of the garage. “But it’s okay. Your dad’s cool. You should spend time with him, while he’s here.”
Dawson said it so casually. Your dad’s cool.
Cam wanted to believe it, but there was still that voice in the back of his head that kept reminding him that he’d just gotten this.
He wasn’t going to force his father on Dawson, not when he clearly had so much baggage about fathers-in-law.
Understandable baggage about fathers-in-law, frankly.
“I was thinking tonight I’d take him to that Ethiopian place we walked to last week.”
“He ever have Ethiopian?”
Cam shrugged. “I hadn’t either though, and it was fucking delicious.”
He didn’t offer for Dawson to join them, and Dawson seemed okay with that, and they downshifted into small talk about practice and the upcoming game Monday against the Jets.
“I’m excited, it’s my first Monday Night Football game,” Cam said.
“Now we know why your dad showed up. He wanted in on the Monday Night Football hype,” Dawson teased.
“I can’t blame him for that,” Cam confessed.
“Just remember, rook, it’s just another game. Primetime, sure, but you’re built for that. How many great punts did you make during Western’s game against Wisconsin? That was the highest-pressure situation you’d been in, and you killed it. And Monday night? You’re gonna do it again.”
Dawson’s glance over was warm and supportive. Cam wanted to hoard it all, bask in the knowledge that he had such a great boyfriend and such a great teammate. Someone who really wanted him to succeed not just because he was also wearing a Thunder uniform, but because he cared about him, about Cam.
When they made it to the practice facility and headed into the first meeting that seemed to be the overall tone of the coaching staff. Sure, it was a Monday night game, but it was just another game. Another chance to get a W. To wipe away the sting of their first loss, last week.
Cam only had a quick moment after the first all-hands-on-deck meeting to grab Coach Robertson, asking him about his dad.
Coach gave him a look. “He normal about shit?” he asked, and Cam didn’t have to ask what shit he was referring to.
Some guys’ dads would show up and act weird.
Try to coach still. Interfere. Prove that they somehow knew best. Cam had been around too many quintessential sports dads to know exactly what Coach was talking about.
“The most normal,” Cam said.
“He’s cool,” Dawson said, chiming in. Even though he’d only met him for fifteen minutes the night before.
“Sure thing, tell Marty to get him some credentials,” Coach said, nodding.
But as they headed to the locker room to change before practice, Cam was still stuck on what Dawson had said.
“You’ve barely met him and you vouched for him,” Cam pointed out as he pulled on his practice jersey.
“It’s not about meeting him,” Dawson explained as he bent into a deep stretch. “It’s about knowing you. You’re refreshingly not fucked up about your dad.”
“Neither are you,” Cam said. He didn’t say anything about Ackerman, because this wasn’t about him, but he lingered in the back of Cam’s mind anyway.
“Takes one to know one, rook,” Dawson said with a grin.
Marty worked them hard at practice, but forced Dawson to call it quits early. “You’re gonna fuck up your leg, and then both Robertson and the rook here are gonna have my head,” Marty said, unexpectedly serious.
Dawson made a face but let it go without arguing.
He was quiet on the drive back to their building.
Cam toyed with a fraying edge on the hem of his sweatshirt.
Wondering if he should say the thing that was lying between them, unsaid.
That his dad wasn’t like Ackerman. That Dawson would never have to worry about that happening with Shane.
Cam knew he didn’t have to say it out loud for it to be true, but he also knew that the most dangerous aspect of fear was that it wasn’t based in logical reality.
His dad wasn’t a money manager. He wasn’t ever going to even have an opportunity to steal from Dawson. But he didn’t have to, not for him to freak Dawson out.
“You still thinking about the Ethiopian place?” Dawson asked as he pulled into the parking garage.
“Yeah. I am. I think he’ll like it. Toronto’s such a cool melting pot. I want him to experience some of that while he’s here,” Cam said.
He had to wonder if Daws was asking because he was angling for an invite, but then the moment passed, and Cam was no longer sure.
“Yeah, he should,” Dawson agreed. He parked, and when he got out of the car, pulled both their bags from the back.
Set them on the ground and pulled Cam into him.
First into a brief but passionate kiss, which melted into a warm, supportive hug.
“Gonna miss you tonight,” he murmured into Cam’s ear. “Missed you last night, too.”
He’d already said that, but Cam didn’t want to assume he was talking about the hanging-out part of the evening.
Maybe he was just talking about the way they curled up in bed together to fall asleep.
Or about the activities they did before they fell asleep.
Cam missed those too, even though it would only have been a few nights without them.
If he was being really honest with himself, he missed everything.
He was just used to having it all, Dawson in every way he desired him. The last thing he wanted was to push too hard and lose it. Patience wasn’t easy, but he’d already been patient. He could be patient a little while longer.
It still sucked to split up when they got up to Cam’s floor. Dawson brushed a last kiss across Cam’s upturned mouth before he got off the elevator. “Have fun tonight,” he said.
“I’m trying not to rush him, but this kinda sucks, if I’m being really honest,” Dawson complained to Aidan as he tugged his pads on. Aidan was already dressed, lounging against the side of Dawson’s locker.
Cam had already gotten dressed and exited the locker room, because the social media team wanted to take some pics with him and his dad, here to watch him play his first Monday Night Football game. Otherwise, Dawson might not have said anything.
But it was going on five nights now, and he was tired of Cam brushing him off. He’d thought when they’d finally gotten together, for real, there wouldn’t be any more bumps in the road. But as cool as Shane seemed, he was proving to be a major roadblock.
“You’re sure he’s okay with you being a guy?” Aidan wondered.
“Cam’s gay. And from anything he’s ever said about his dad, he’s like the most supportive.” Dawson sighed, pretty sure it wasn’t him that was the issue, but it was hard to say, because Cam hadn’t once invited him to hang out with him and his dad.
He’d seen Shane a few times in passing, around the practice facility. Once Shane had gotten the green light to spend time there, Cam had even stopped carpooling in with Dawson.
He’d tried to explain it away, to excuse it, because of course Cam would want time one-on-one with his dad. But it didn’t matter how subtly Dawson hinted that he wouldn’t mind getting to know his dad better, nothing had happened.
“Then what’s the deal? I thought you guys fixed this,” Aidan said absently, seemingly way less worried about this particular drama than Dawson was.
“I just . . .it’s weird, isn’t it? He was all-in before. Patient and supportive and shit. And then Shane gets here and it’s like he’s pulling away.” He’d already said it sucked, but he was so tempted to add that again.
Aidan shot him a look. “Have you talked to him about it?”
“Of course not,” Dawson blustered. He tugged on a beanie and grabbed his helmet. “How would I even ask? Hey, Cam, does your dad think I have cooties? I don’t fucking think so.”
“You are actually the worst communicator on the planet.”
“Says the second-worst communicator on the planet,” Dawson complained.
“Exactly. I’m qualified to say just how shitty you are.
Just fucking ask him, Daws. You’re in love with the guy, how hard is it possibly to say to his face, I’d like to get to know your dad while he’s here.
You want to be serious about the rookie?
This is your way to do it. Not fucking him every night. ”