Aidan grunted in frustration. “I know that. I’m just trying to make sure everyone’s feeling good. You know,welcomed.”
“You mean you’re trying to make sure I’m not throwing myself off a cliff after missing that field goal on Sunday, and you’re too busy fucking—or getting fucked by? I’m not sure which and please don’t tell me—your hot new boyfriend to pencil me on for a separate date, so you’re just going to group me in with something already on your schedule.”
Aidan stared at him incredulously. He didn’t seem to know where to begin with what Dawson had just said. And Dawson had to admit that when he word vomited these days, that was often the reaction. “Do you even listen to the shit that comes out of your mouth?”
“Rarely,” Dawson said wryly.
“I amnotmaking sure you didn’t throw yourself off a cliff,” Aidan said slowly. “But yeah, I know you’re going through it—”
“And this is exactly why I didn’t call you back. I don’t need to be coddled,” Dawson said. “You should get that I don’t want to talk about my feelings. When have you everwanted to talk aboutyourfeelings?”
That got him an actual Aidan Flynn smile. Never an easy feat to accomplish, though easier than it had been, before Levi had shown up and Aidan had fallen in love with him.
“Fair,” Aidan said. “But you’re good?”
“Solid. Never been better,” Dawson lied breezily. “About to have a fucking great practice. How are you?”
Aidan just rolled his eyes. Patted him on the shoulder as he walked past. “You’re so full of shit, Hall,” he said.
And yes, that was true. Dawson was totally full of shit.
He was a shit teammate.
Had been a shit husband.
Was possibly now a shit kicker.
Dawson made a face at his own bad mood.
And then, of course, that was when a voice piped up behind him. “Hey, Daws,” Cameron said sunnily.
He wasn’talwaysthis upbeat, but he was usually unflinchingly and unfailingly positive in a way that Dawson only resented because it made him feel even grumpier.
“Hey,” Dawson said, trying to fake it til he made it, because he remembered a little too well how guilty he’d felt last night when he’d realized that nobody had been looking out for the rookie.
It should’ve been his job. He’d known it and he’d still let it slip through his hands, telling himself a bunch of lies that someone else was taking care of Cam.
But of course, nobody else was. Why would they?
“You ready for this?” Cam asked, but he was still smiling, like he might actually enjoy Marty kicking his ass into next year.
“Sure,” Dawson said, lying again.
He couldn’t say he’d slept any better last night than he’d slept the night before, but at least he’d sleptsome.
When the alarm had gone off, he’d shaken out of sleep, the remnants of some kind of dream he didn’t want to remember lingering in the corners of his mind.
He and Cameron at a club, flashing lights and pulsing bass, and he’d been watching from the edges as Cam danced with one guy and then another and then kissed a third.
There was an unsettled heat at the base of his stomach as the images flashed through his mind again.
“Come on, you two. Time to get to work.” Marty approached, dispelling any discomfort Dawson felt.
He’d just dreamed about Cam because he’d seen him at the pool, and they’d talked about going out and hooking up. It was just his brain dredging up recent events and re-forming them into a new pattern. That was all. It didn’t mean anything.
He definitely hadn’t felt a flare of what might be jealousy if he looked closely enough at it. So he didn’t.
Marty put them through their paces.
