“Obviously,” Dawson echoed, but he looked pleased, anyway.
“We got each other’s backs.” Cam thought it was obvious that was true, but it was still something else to see the impact of his words hit Dawson.
Like maybe he hadn’t realized it. Or that he had, but he just hadn’t known the extent of it.
“Can you just stop being . . .” Dawson waved around him. “Like for a freaking minute?”
“Stop being what?”
Dawson stared at him, the look in his hazel eyes naked with want. But before there was any bad-idea indulgences, he looked away. “Likeyou,” Dawson said, moistening his lips and then tipping his glass back, draining at least half of it. “I suppose it was too much to hope I’d have to outlast a Cameron Greene seduction onslaught.”
“Oh, you thoughtthatwas seducing you?” Cam fluttered his eyelashes in an exaggerated movement.
Dawson laughed. “You weren’t.”
Cam nudged his hip with his own. “When I do, you’ll know.”
“Jesus,” Dawson muttered and finished his wine with another large gulp.
Chapter 10
Dawsonwasn’tgoingtomake the same mistake twice—or more like a dozen times, at this rate, but who was really counting?Not him. He kept an eye on the rookie all night long. Stuck close, even though that was both an exercise in patienceandin torture.
Watched as Cam laughed and chatted with what felt like half the team. For a while, Lane and Trevor tugged them into their orbit, Lane insisting they take shots while Trevor made a disgruntled, disapproving face. But Trevor ultimately took the shot when Lane held the tequila up to his lips, giving in with a self-conscious chuckle.
They’d rotated through the various knots of different players. It was one of the reasons Dawson had liked being special teams—the offenseandthe defense both liked to claim them. Maybe before he hadn’t done his due diligence, but celebrating a four-game win streak to kick off the season, everyone was acting like the next guy over was their new best friend.
Dawson didn’t want the bitterness to invade this night, but it was impossible not to wonder absently how it would feel when they were more games in. When they inevitably lost. If they ever lostbadly.
He’d been around long enough that he knew some teams weathered those storms better than others. It was still too new to know howthisteam might ride out a rough sea.
It was almost one in the morning when Cam leaned into him, soft, slightly sleepy eyes blinking up at him, and said, “I think we should probably head out.”
He looked tipsy, but not drunk. Something he’d probably be grateful for in the morning.
“Yeah, you done partying, rook?” Dawson asked, tucking him into his side. Cam might be slightly taller, but it was a revelation how well he still fit against him like this. “I’ll call a cab.”
“No,” Cam argued. “Let’s walk. I want some fresh air.”
“Fresh air, huh?” Dawson pulled him towards the exit, concern rumbling at the base of his stomach. Concern he didn’t want to voice out loud, but he couldn’tnotask. “It’s pretty late. You sure you’d be okay with that?”
Cam blinked down at him, his eyes softening even more. “Well,yeah,” he said. “You’re with me.”
Gooey warmth spread through Dawson’s chest, even as he told himself—insisted, really—that it didn’t mean anything.
“Alright, walking it is,” Dawson said. Not only because he wanted to prolong this soft, sweet bubble between him and a tipsy, pliant, affectionate Cam, but because it might help remind Cam next time that there was nothing to be afraid of. A little bit of exposure therapy.
But when they got outside, it was drizzling. A cold unpleasant kind of rain, where the moisture sank its claws in and didn’t let go.
“Just give me a sec,” Dawson said, fumbling for the phone in his pocket. He was maybe a fraction more sober than Cam, but he wasn’tsober, either.
“Nooo,” Cam whined. “Come on. Let’s walk. It’s not so bad. Barely even raining.”
“You gonna say it’s barely even cold, either?” Dawson asked dryly, shivering even as he pulled up the collar of his jacket.
He checked the directions on his phone and they set off. Even though it was late and the weather sucked, there were still a few people out on the streets.
“Weeeellll,” Cam said, drawing out the word, shooting a sheepish glance in Dawson’s direction.
