“I . . .you were so fucked up last year, Daws. So fucked up. And I know it was the divorce and everything else, too, and once things started disintegrating in Baltimore, it was like you couldn’t stop it. But this was going to be your fresh start. I wanted to give that to you.”
Dawson hummed under his breath. It was, nearly word for word, what he’d expected his agent to say. “I’ve got to focus on this game in two days,” he said, “but you should come to Toronto for it. We’ll talk after.”
“Okay. Yeah. I can do that.” Alex sounded relieved, like he hadn’t just invited him-slash-insisted he come to Toronto at the end of October.
“Yeah, you can. After everything, you’d fucking better.”
“I know. It was fucked. The whole situation was fucked, Daws.”
Dawson didn’t need Alex to tell him that. He’d lived it. He knew exactly how fucked it had been. And how fucked it was that after knowing everything, Alex had still gone along with Simon’s plan—if that was what had happened.
Dawson still wasn’t sure if he believed it.
“Trust me, I know,” Dawson said.
“Yeah. Yeah, you would. Shit. Well, I’ll be there. Gonna come to the game, and we’ll go out after, alright? Nice dinner, just the two of us.”
Dawson nearly said,make that three, ’cause I want my emotional support rookie to come too,but he didn’t. Because theyweren’tdating, and only someone who was invested in that kind of relationship would be willing to sit through a dinner like this. Because it was going to suck. Dawson was going to haveto play hardball. Listen to Alex whine and worry and generally vomit up any and every kind of apology in the hope that Dawson might listen.
“Alright,” Dawson said.
“See you in a few days, Daws,” Alex said.
Dawson nearly hung up then, but Alex continued in a halting voice, “I really appreciate you being willing to listen. I know you don’t have to. I know you already fired Simon.”
“I did,” Dawson confirmed.
“You didn’t have to give me a chance to explain,” Alex said quietly.
Dawson didn’t want to go into it; why he’d trusted Alex, but something about Simon had always made him feel uneasy. Probably because he was still worried he’d make the wrong call again.
“Yeah, I did,” Dawson said.
“Well, I’m glad you did,” Alex said. “See you on Sunday.”
They were approaching the apartment building now. Cam tapped his keycard against the side door’s sensor and they took the elevator up to Cam’s floor in silence.
They’d taken off their coats and shoes before Cam turned to Dawson. “You still wanna watch a movie or . . .?”
Dawson took it as a good sign that Cam had already figured out that he didn’t want to be alone. He hadn’t even asked if he should press Dawson’s floor when they were in the elevator. He’d just taken them to his own apartment, no hesitation at all.
That felt new, like something unfamiliar but good,solideven,shifting into place between them.
Whatdidhe want to do? Did he want to half-watch stupid car chases and explosions and way too much masculine posturing, all while he could barely drag his mouth off Cam’s mouth for long enough to know what the fuck was even supposed to be happening?
Dawson turned to Cam and smiled. “Yeah, actually, I do. It seems like it might be a good distraction.”
He didn’t know how much any of this was going to fuck him up.
Specifically how these new betrayals would impact him. How committing to helping Natalia Kaminski might affect his focus and his game play for the rest of the season. It was all a risk. He should be freaking out; he kind of was, a little.
But it was hard to freak out too much when he was pressed up against Cam on Cam’s crappy couch, his weight warm and solid and real against his body.
Chapter 17
TheBillscomingtoToronto was always going to be a challenge.
Not only were they a good team—agreatteam, really, if Dawson was being bluntly honest about it—but Buffalo was so close to Toronto the stadium was typically split more evenly between the fans of the two teams.
