“Yeah, yeah, this was all your idea. I’m gonna remind you of that,” Dawson pointed out as they turned a corner.
“We should go to the PATH, instead,” Cam said. “I know there’s an entrance in the basement of our building.”
“What happened to fresh air?” Dawson wondered.
Cam shrugged. “It’s cold!”
Maybe if Cam was fractionally less adorable, he could resist doing whatever he said. But so far, his track record of doing that recently was not very good. Hewantedto make Cam happy because every time he did, Dawson felt a little warmer from the brightness of his smile.
Dawson knew just enough about the PATH—the underground network of pedestrian tunnels that crisscrossed the city—to be dangerous. He knew how to take the entrance in their building to the building that housed his favorite Chinese restaurant. He and Aidan had walked through the underground corridors a few times when he’d first gotten to town.
But he certainly hadn’t been doing it recently, and his memory was more than a little foggy. Or maybe that was the glasses of wine he’d drunk.
Still, he was pretty sure this big skyscraper here had an entrance that if he went the right waywouldtake them to their building.
He tugged Cam’s arm and they hurried in, the security guy at the desk giving them a sleepy half-look as they walked towards the escalator that would take them to the bottom floor.
Cam leaned against the edge of the escalator. Water droplets dusted the top of his hair. And somehow—Dawson couldn’t figure out how—he was still smiling.
“That was a great night,” Cam mused. “We didn’t have places like that in Montana.”
“I’m not sure there’s many bars like Vault,” Dawson agreed.
“But it wasn’t just the bar, though it is pretty freaking cool,” Cam said. “Everyone’s so . . .I don’t know . . .loose and happy. Andtogether.”
“Four-game win streak,” Dawson pointed out.
Cam shot him a look as they hit the basement floor. During the day, this was a food court, with various restaurants and a coffee shop as well as a bookstore, but at night, there were gates over all the storefronts, and it was quiet.
They were alone.
“I don’t think it’s just that,” Cam argued staunchly.
“Easy to be happy when you’re winning.”
He didn’t want to burst Cam’s happy bubble. Dawson never wanted to do that. But he didn’t want him to be caught off guard when the vibes inevitably changed. Because they always changed. Dawson being here in Toronto at all was proof of that.
“The guys have something to prove and I think they’re excited that they have the chance to do that.”
Dawson rolled his eyes. He didn’twantto be a Debbie Downer but this was naive, even for the rookie.
“You don’t really believe that. I promise—we’re gonna lose a game, probably in some kind of extra shitty way. Either getblown out when we shouldn’t be, or on like the last fucking play. And nobody will be teasing you about taking a tequila shot and Aidan won’t be buying drinks and slinging his arm around everyone like they’re his new best friend.”
For a second, Dawson hadn’t realized that Cam had stopped. But when there was nothing to his very blunt declaration but silence, he glanced over. Realized he’d left the guy behind.
No, Cam hadstopped, right in his tracks, and was staring at Dawson with an incredulous expression all over his face.
“What?” Dawson wasn’t sure if what he felt was guilt or self-consciousness. “Let me guess—you think that’s bullshit too.”
“It is bullshit. It’s absolute bullshit. And even if itdoeshappen, it doesn’t mean that none of this stuff tonight was real, or true—”
“I didn’t say that,” Dawson said quickly.
Yep, no question about it at all. That was definitely a stomach-churning sweep of guilt gnawing at his innards.
“Yeah, you kinda did,” Cam said, frowning. “And it’sbullshit.”
There was nothing Dawson wanted more than to agree with Cam. But he’d been there last year, when it hadn’t been bullshit, it had been hisreality.
