Cam told himself it was better to be a purse dog than to be forgotten. But he found it hard to quite believe it, even after he’d let himself into his place and put the leftovers into the fridge.
Still, it was an improvement to pull up the text convo with his dad and be able to send,hung out with a teammate tonight. grabbed some food, it was really good.
Because, Cam thought later as he relaxed into bed, ithadbeen.
Chapter 5
Dawsonhadn’tevenrealizedhe was feeling alone—notlonely, per se, because it was basically impossible to feel lonely in a place like Toronto, and around a football team like the Thunder, who all clung a shade too close, but on an island of sorts—until he and Cam started carpooling.
“I don’t know why you weren’t doing that before,” Nate said to him in the weight room when Dawson expressed how nice it was to have company on the long and often infuriating drive to the practice facility every day. “You guys live in the same damn building.”
“I didn’t even think about it,” Dawson admitted. God, he’d been so preoccupied with his own shit.
“Pretty self-absorbed of you,” Lane joked.
Dawson rolled his eyes. “Don’t need to tellmethat.”
“I kinda think we do,” Aidan added, and next to him, Mo nodded.
“I don’t need a lecture,” Dawson retorted without much heat. Maybe hehadneeded one, but he’d figured it out, hadn’t he? He’d fixed it. Well, not entirely, but he was on his way to fixing it.
He looked over at where Cam was stretching on one of the big mats.
“I kind of thought I was gonna have to give you one,” Aidan said in a low voice, flicking his hand towards Cam’s figure on the mat. He was moving into some yoga poses now, shorts pulling across his ass.
Dawson glanced away. It was a really nice ass. He was divorced. Not dead. And while he might be long since inoculated to Aidan’s hotness, it wasn’t the same with Cam.
Maybe he could get him to puke in a bush.
“What are you talking about?” Dawson asked suspiciously, afraid hedidknow what Aidan was referring to.
“Please, you think he’s adorable,” Aidan said. “And he’s well . . .”
“Pretty fucking green?” Lane answered for him.
Dawson rolled his eyes. “This convo is not good for anyone. Not for me, not for you, and definitely not foryou, Lane.”
Lane’s eyes gleamed with mischief. “Afraid I’m gonna move in on your rookie, Hall?”
“He’s notmyrookie, and no, because the guy’s got good taste. Better taste than you.”
“Ouch,” Lane said, lifting his hand for a high five with Mo.
Aidan gave them both a brief but hard look.
“The rookie has a name, and he’s—” But Aidan didn’t get any more of his speech out before Lane interrupted him.
“Naive? Innocent? Way too sweet for any of us?”
Dawson ground his teeth together. “All of those things, sure.” If Aidan couldn’t finish his lecture, then Dawson would do it. “But he’s a good kid. Deserves better than to be harassed by you guys.”
Lane rolled his eyes, but Dawson wasn’t really worried about him. There was only one rookie Lane had been looking at, and he might talk a big game about hooking up and might talk an evenbiggergame about disliking the guy, but the rookie wasn’t Cam.
He finished up his reps and glanced over at the mat. Cam was there still, laughing with Duke.
Maybe Lane wasn’t who Dawson should be worried about.
“Your face is gonna freeze like that and good luck ever getting anyone else to marry you.”
