“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 atype,” 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 youwantit 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 choosehimand all his stupid fucking baggage, he felt sick. When he thought of Cam saying yes, he felt sick. Thrilledfor 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 andanythingcould 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? Therookie 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?”
