Glancing up, he realized Dawson was touching him, concern written across his expression.
“If you’re really . . .” Dawson trailed off. “I’m happy to give you some pointers, if you want.”
“What did youjustsay about doing all my work for me?” Cam asked archly, realizing suddenly that he wasn’t sure he wanted orneededDawson to order for him. Maybe he wasn’t experienced but that didn’t mean he was incapable of figuring it out.
And if he ordered something he hated? Well, he’d order something else and send the leftovers home with Dawson. That guy was a human dumpster. He’d eat just about anything; watching him eat over the last few months had proven that.
“True. Well, the offer stands.”
“What are you gonna get?”
“Probably the green curry—that’s spicy, so be careful if you don’t like heat—and probably an order of the fried rice. And um, maybe also these beef satay skewers with the peanut sauce. Aidan’s text said specifically not to sleep on those.”
“Hungry?” Cam asked, raising an eyebrow.
“And it’s good leftovers. When I get home after practice, sometimes the last thing I wanna do is figure out what to eat. I’ve got the meal service shit, sure, butugh, that’s just so . . .well, you have it too, so you know how it is.”
“Cardboard masquerading as food?”
Dawson gave him a commiserating look. “Exactly.”
“Didn’t you—your—” Cam stopped abruptly, realizing he didn’t know what Dawson’s ex-wife’s name was. Didn’t know if he should really be bringing her up at all, even though he had earlier and it had been okay. But this was different. More personal.
“Didn’t Brynn feed me?” Dawson laughed, a little bitterly. “Sure. But she was shit in the kitchen, too, so it wasn’t really a big difference when she moved out.”
Cameron stared at the menu. “I’m sorry,” he said, even though that seemed like a sentiment that wasn’t nearly heartfelt enough. But what else could he even say?
“Yeah, I wanna sayme too,” Dawson confessed, leaning in again, “but then I think about how unhappy I was—how unhappy we both were—and I think, am I really sorry? I’m sorry it got ugly, for sure, and even sorrier that her dad is an asshole and stole from me. I’m sure fucking sorry the whole mess distracted me from what I’m good at. From my job. But other than that . . .” Dawson took a deep breath, and he looked like he was really realizing this for the first time, expression tinged with surprise. “I guess I’m notthatsorry.”
Cam wasn’t sure how he was supposed to react. “Uh.”
“Shit. Sorry,” Dawson said, and then winced. “I didn’t mean to unload like that. Maybe Aidan’s right and Ishouldbe talking about it.”
“He’s Aidan Flynn, I can’t imagine he’s ever wrong,” Cam said. Had he been starstruck the first time he’d met the Thunder’s QB1? Maybe a little. It was hard, when Aidan looked likethatand not only had that natural air of confidence to him, but two Super Bowl rings.
“Oh boy,” Dawson said, groaning. “He’s wrong all the fucking time. Don’t tell me you think he’s hot, too.”
Dawson didn’t sound very happy about that possibility—actually pissed off about it, in fact—that Cam was tempted to tell him that whileyes, Aidan was hot, he found Dawson hot too. Hotter, in fact.
But Dawson was finally including him. Sitting with him at lunch. Asking him to dinner. Chatting with him like he wasn’t just the stupid rookie, afraid to leave his apartment, but like he was a friend. He couldn’t fuck it up by making things uncomfortable. Not now.
“Uh yeah, don’tyou?”
Dawson made a face. “When you’ve seen him puking in a bush outside a shitty frat house in Lansing, it sort of sucks the hotness out,” Dawson said frankly.
The waitress appeared then, and they ordered. Cam hesitantly pointing to a handful of pictures, and Dawson confidently rattling off dish after dish like he’d been ordering Thai food for years. Then he added two orders of the beef satay skewers—because, he said, “You didn’t, and if Aidan finds out I didn’t take his rec, he’ll be insufferable.”
“Aidan doesn’t strike me as the puking-in-a-bush type,” Cam wondered, because they were apparently still talking about Aidan. He was way too put together for that, even when he’d been younger. Controlled, even.
“Oh, he’s not. Not normally. Not even back then, but once in a while? Like I meanreally, once in a while. Like maybe once. But once is all it takes, you know? Once I saw him crouched over that bush, it was all over.”
Cam had had a few friends like that back in college. Friends he’d thought,maybe, when he’d first met them, and then evenif he’d found them attractive, they’d ended up firmly in friends territory.
“Anyway,” Dawson continued, “donotassume that Aidan Flynn’s some kind of perfect football god, because he’s not. He’s an idiot like the rest of us.”
“Even if he sends you restaurant recommendations?” Cam asked.
“Evenif he’s stupidly self-sacrificing and goes out of his way to invite us to the o-line dinner. Which we’re going to, by the way.”
