Epilogue
Five months later
Dawson’s phone rang just when they rounded the corner out of the elevator with the couch.
“Shit,” Dawson exclaimed, three-quarters of his figure hidden by the end of the couch.
“We should have paid for movers,” Cam said, for at least the tenth time.
“No, just . . .” Dawson swore again. “Let me get this balanced against the wall so I can answer. Natalia said she’d be calling today.”
“Or we could have used any of our friends. Our football-playing friends,” Cam teased, hearing the strain in his voice as he held up his side of the couch, watching as Dawson tried to juggle it and then press it with one hand to the wall of their apartment building.
Dawson shot him a look, full of heat, that promised retribution later. The sexy kind of retribution, no less.
Cam hoped that they’d both be up for the sexy kind of retribution. They were only a few pieces of furniture into this move, and already he was wishing he’d put his foot down and hired movers anyway.
So what if he and Dawson were just combining their apartments essentially as they moved into a bigger place?
So what if it wasn’t even all the furniture, because his dad had decided to stick around, more long-term?
He’d taken over Cam’s lease, and even though Shane kept arguing he didn’t need much, Cam hadn’t wanted to leave him with nothing.
They still should have hired movers. Or taken Nate or Wes up on their offers to help move them. Cam was pretty sure Trevor and Lane had stuck around Toronto too, and weren’t flying home to Arizona for another week, at least.
The point was, they could’ve had help. Instead Cam was now holding up three-quarters of this couch as Dawson pulled his phone out of his pocket and shoved it between his cheek and shoulder.
“Hey? Oh, yeah, good to hear from you.”
It was Dawson’s I’m a grown-up voice, which meant that it probably was Natalia. Cam felt marginally less annoyed then.
His dad had mentioned this morning, as they’d chowed down on donuts and coffee he’d brought over, that moving tested every relationship. Cam had argued they didn’t need testing. He and Dawson were so solid.
But Dawson’s determination to not hire movers was possibly going to be the first real test. Not the Thunder’s season. Not the case against Richard Ackerman. Not even when Cam’s dad had shown up right when he and Dawson were still in the middle of figuring their relationship out.
Nope, it was going to be this couch.
Cam groaned under his breath, wishing he’d gone a little less hard at the gym yesterday.
Dawson kept nodding, adding a comment or two on the phone, but Cam couldn’t hope to decipher what was going on, not until Dawson got off the call and explained what he’d heard from Natalia.
Progress was being made in moving forward on going to trial. In a few weeks, Dawson had told him that he’d need to head to Baltimore for another round of interviews. It was looking likely that he’d need to take the stand.
Finally, he hung up, right when Cam thought he might lose his grip on the couch.
“So,” Dawson started to say, the smile evident in his voice, even though Cam couldn’t see his whole face.
“Tell me while we move this stupid couch,” Cam grumbled. “My arms are gonna fall off.”
“Aw, baby, are you tired already?” Dawson joked.
“Fuck yes.”
“It was all good news,” Dawson said, changing the subject, shouldering more of the weight. “Ackerman’s lawyer came back with another deal. Even better this time. Natalia thinks they’re really panicking about the possibility of going to trial.”
“The possibility of going to trial and the possibility of you taking the stand like a goddamn avenging angel,” Cam added. “He’s gonna plea out and plead guilty and go to jail for a long-ass time.”
“That’s the hope. Natalia feels like there’s a very good chance we can make him pay without having to call our bluff,” Dawson said. He chuckled tiredly. “I’m so fucking relieved.”
“Me too,” Cam agreed. They’d talked more than once about how committed Dawson was to seeing this through, but if he didn’t have to while getting the outcome they all wanted? That would be even better.
They’d finally made it down the hallway, and to the open doorway that they’d propped open on their new, bigger apartment.
This one had a shower and a tub, as well as a second bedroom, because both of them hoped that the next time Dawson’s parents came to visit from Iowa, they wouldn’t need to stay in a hotel. They could stay with them.
Cam had met them briefly at the end of the season, but he was looking forward to getting to know them better. The five of them, including his dad, merging into a new familial unit.
There’d been a time when he’d been secretly terrified that Dawson might be terrified about this, but so much of what he’d been through and how he’d emerged from it on the other side had proven once and for all that Dawson wasn’t about to let a little residual fear scare him away.
Not when it came to what he really wanted. And Cam really believed, without a single doubt, that what Dawson wanted was Cam and them.
They finally maneuvered the couch into the empty living room and set it down.
Dawson let out a gust of a sigh and flopped down on the comfortable surface.
“What are you doing?” Cam asked, even as he fell down next to him. “We have like . . .a whole bunch more shit to move.”
“I know,” Dawson said, shrugging. He turned and pressed his head into Cam’s shoulder. “I think I screwed up. We should have hired movers.”
Cam could only laugh. “Oh yeah?”
“For sure, rook.”
“Can you still call me that?” Cam wondered softly. “I’m not a rookie anymore.”
“Baby, you’re always gonna be my rookie.” Dawson tilted his head up and pressed a kiss to Cam’s mouth. It felt as good as the first time. Maybe even better. Who had Cam been kidding? There was always going to be energy—and time—for sexy retribution.
“Oh God, we should have knocked.”
“Dude, I told you to.”
The voices surprised Cam and he pulled away from Dawson, craning his head towards the apartment’s entrance.
He supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised to see Nate and Wes walking in, Lane and Trevor trailing behind them.
“You guys need some help?” Wes asked innocently.
“They managed the couch and then collapsed on it,” Nate said seriously. “I think the answer is yes.”
“How’d you know?” Dawson asked.
“Shane sent us,” Trevor said. “He said you two were trying to be stupid and heroic, and you didn’t need to do that.”
Cam laughed. “Yeah, he’d say that.”
“And he’d be right,” Dawson said wryly, pulling himself upright and then holding his hand out so he could help Cam up too.
He took it and pulled himself off the couch with a half-hearted groan. “I’m so glad you guys are here,” he admitted.
“Me too,” Dawson said.
Cam elbowed him in the side.
“What?” Dawson retorted. “I am.”
“You didn’t want to hire movers.”
“Well, these aren’t movers, they’re our friends.” Daws shot him a lopsided look. It was adorable, and Cam’s heart squeezed. He loved him so much. Even when he was being too literal and a little bit grumpy. Probably even more when he was being too literal and a little bit grumpy.
How could Cam resist? He was so fucking cute when he was bitching—and then there was the benefit of Cam enjoying brightening his mood after.
“Shane said he was almost done packing some of Dawson’s kitchen stuff. Should we head there first?” Wes asked.
Dawson exchanged looks with Cam. “God bless your dad,” he said.
Cam couldn’t help his smile. It was more than that, though.
He knew he was beaming at Dawson. He’d expressed enjoyment and appreciation that Shane was around.
He’d said more than once how much he just plain liked Cam’s dad, which Cam got, because he was pretty freaking awesome.
But he’d still never believed that Dawson would be standing here saying those words.
“Yeah,” Cam agreed, brimming with happiness.
“Ew,” Nate said as he glanced between them. “Maybe we did just interrupt something.”
“Hey,” Wes retorted mildly, “it’s not like you aren’t plenty gross sometimes.”
The corner of Nate’s mouth quirked up. “Fair.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Dawson said. “The kitchen at my place. That sounds like a good place to start.”
They all trooped out and Dawson turned to Cam. “I’m so fucking glad your dad texted them,” he said.
“Yep,” Cam agreed. “Now say, Cameron was right.”
Dawson just laughed. “Not gonna happen,” he claimed, even though they both knew better.
“How about you just say . . .you’re happy they showed up?”
“I did?” Dawson countered.
“And,” Cam added with emphasis, “that you’re not alone anymore.”
Dawson pulled Cam into him. Pressing a kiss to his temple. “Well, I already knew that,” he teased. “Never gonna be alone again.”