“Hey,” Dawson said.
Cam shot him a look. “Are you going to say it was a fine punt? ’Cause it wasn’t—”
“It was a fine punt.”
Cam shot him another look, maybe the most annoyed he’d ever looked with Dawson. Dawson didn’t like it, but only because he preferred Cam’s sunny optimism better. Counted on it, he realized, and he didn’t want Cam to lose it over one punt that mattered very little in the scheme of things.
“Hey,” Dawson said when Cam didn’t reply, “you said I was going to say it, so I figured since itwasa fine punt, I might as well put it out there.”
“You a comedian now?” Cam wondered darkly.
Dawson shrugged. “It was really fine. You pinned them to the twenty.”
“Could’ve pinned them to the one.Should’vepinned them to the one.”
“Jeez, dude, lighten up.” Dawson slung an arm around Cam’s shoulder pads. Even with the breadth and the thickness of them, he still felt slight under Dawson’s touch.
Fits perfectly against you.
Dawson ignored that voice. This was about more than that. He didn’t want a single drop of sourness to grow into a stream and then poison all of Cam’s optimism.
Not like what had happened to him.
“I can’t believe it’syousaying that tome,” Cam grumbled.
“As president of theNeeds to Lighten UpClub, I’m the most qualified to tell you that it’s a requirement.”
Cam shook him off. “I’ll get it next time.”
“Yeah, you will.” Dawson had no qualms saying it. In the preseason and in the first three regular season games, Cam had been on the money.
“Don’t patronize me,” Cam said.
“I’m not. I’m really not.” Dawson playfully chucked his fist under Cam’s chin. “I mean it. Lighten up. Do I need to bring Marty over here to show you something on the tablet? Maybe a YouTube compilation of your greatest hits?”
Cam laughed then, like he couldn’t believe Dawson had said that. “No. No. I’m good.”
“Finally,” Dawson teased. “That’s the smile I like to see.”
“Do you?”
There was the political answer. Thethis is a bad ideaanswer.
Then there was the truth.
“Well, yeah, rook. Of course I do.”
Cam’s smile only grew, and maybe even if it hadn’t been smart, Dawson couldn’t say he regretted it.
On top of that, it was harder than it should’ve been to return to his empty bubble at the other end of the bench.
Dawson didn’t know what that said about him or his current level of focus.
“You gotta lock in,” Dawson muttered to himself and looked out onto the field, where Nate had just sacked the Texans’ quarterback for the first time in the game.
Aidan and the offense would be getting the ball back with plenty of time to get another score before the end of the half—which they did, extending the Thunder’s lead.
Dawson kicked another textbook extra point and kicked off, giving the Texans the ball back for the last two and a half minutes of the second quarter.
