“Wait,” Cam said suddenly, “you liked it too, right?”
Dawson reached out, his fingers ghosting up and down Cam’s spine. “You were there, weren’t you?” he teased.
“Okay, yeah. It was hot,” Cam repeated, chuckling under his breath. “We could uh . . .do it some more?”
Dawson sure wanted to. Wanted to do more than kiss, too. His cock was still half-hard in his jeans, and every pulse of his heartbeat reminded him that ithadbeen too long.
But he didn’t know what Cam’s expectations were. He was still a pretty shit bet. Ten years older and kinda washed up. Out of practice. Grumpy and self-absorbed.
Cam could do a whole lot better.
If Dawson had wanted another indication of how he wasn’t really worthy of Cam’s attention, the spike of jealousy he felt when he thought of someone else more deserving touching him was pretty convincing.
He could list out all those reasons. But then, he probably didn’t have to. Cam had spent time around him. He knew what Dawson was like. And he’d kissed him anyway.
“It’s not a difficult question,” Cam pointed out when Dawson had been quiet, trying to decide between what hewantedto say and what heshouldsay.
“I was gonna say, I’m a shitty choice, but then you know all the reasons why that is,” Dawson said.
“You’re notshitty,” Cam argued, sounding like he was gearing up for a passionate defense on Dawson’s behalf. A defense he definitely hadn’t earned.
“But then,” Dawson said, before he could get started, “it doesn’t have to be anything serious, right? Just having some fun. Letting loose. Getting off.”
Cam stopped again. Tilted his head, like he was analyzing what Dawson had said. “That what you want?”
Dawson didn’t know what he wanted. It was Cameron, in some kind of way, but this way felt easiest. Safest. Maybe it was still a bad idea, but this probably protected both of them from the worst of the fallout.
If there’s fallout, the remnants of the optimistic part of Dawson’s brain pointed out softly.
“Yeah. I just . . .I . . .” Dawson shoved his hands in his pockets so he didn’t grab Cam and kiss him again to avoid this conversation. To avoid saying something like,you’re going to figure out sooner rather than later that I’m a bad bet, and this’ll make it hurt less when you do.
“I suppose,” Cam said, full of thoughtful consideration, “that would probably make it alessbad idea.”
“Exactly.”
“If anyone deserves to have some fun, it’s probably you,” Cam agreed.
“Shit,” Dawson said, laughing. “Little harsh, don’t you think?”
Cam nudged him with his shoulder, indicating their doorway, out of the last corridor, “You said it, not me. You wanna have some fun? Okay, let’s have some fun.”
Cam had never had a boyfriend. He’d had a handful of hookups in high school, and then some more regular friends-with-benefitarrangements in college. He’d always been happy enough with those.
Deciding that after all those casual situations now he wanted to get serious, and that the person he wanted to get serious with was Dawson Hall would be ridiculous.
Which is why you’re not doing it, Cam told himself firmly. Dawson had said it himself. They were just having fun. The chemistry was good. The kiss had been spectacular. It was the perfect opportunity to blow off some steam. Easy. Simple. Straightforward.
Dawson hadn’t had to say he hadn’t hooked up with anyone since his marriage had ended; it had been written all over his face and in between his uncertainty after the kiss had ended.
Which was why Cam wasn’t particularly surprised when they got to Dawson’s apartment that he got weird and nervous. He’d already assumed he was going to have to drive this, at least the first time.
It wasn’teasyfor Cam either, but he did it anyway: as soon as Dawson pulled his coat off, Cam following suit, he pushed him right against the wall by the door, kissing him again.
Any protest Dawson made was swallowed up by Cam’s mouth, and he melted under his touch.
Cam pulled back for a moment. “Been a while?” he asked casually.
Dawson looked deliciously flustered, a flush riding high on his cheekbones, his hair mussed. “Is it that obvious?”
