Memories from last night filtered through him, and his breath caught in his throat.
Dawson walked back into the bedroom, shadowed by the night-light in the bathroom. Still naked. No shame on his face.
Though, he was so good-looking—Cam’s fingers itched to touch him again—why shouldn’t he be comfortable in his own skin?
“Hey, didn’t mean to wake you,” Dawson said as he slid back between the covers.
He wasn’t hungover. Just thirsty, a pale throb in the back of his skull. Easy to dismiss with some water and a very large mug of coffee.
“It’s alright,” Cam croaked.
Last night, he’d tried to easily bridge the gap between friends andmore, so Dawson wouldn’t feel out of practice about it. But this morning, it was Cam who felt awkward. He’d never woken up in someone else’s bed like this before. Never rolled over and wondered if they could pick right back up where they left off.
Dawson’s hazel eyes gleamed knowingly as his head hit the pillow. He put a hand on Cam’s waist and tugged him closer. “You know,” he murmured, “that toothbrush still has your name on it.”
Maybe Dawsonhadn’tdone this in a while, but he still knew what to say now. Still knew what Cam wanted and didn’t know how to ask for.
Nodding and blushing, Cam rolled out of bed. Took care of his business with the toilet. Brushed his teeth. Stared in the mirror for a second. There were a handful of marks on his chest that were new. He pressed a thumb into the bruise and felt his mouth go even drier at the spark of something that crawled under his skin.
When he came back to bed, Dawson was waiting for him and wasted zero time, pulling him underneath his body and it got heated fast. Hands and mouths everywhere, and Cam came with Dawson’s teeth in his shoulder, one hand on his cock and the other digging into one of the bruises he’d made on his hip.
“Didn’t think I’d like that,” Cam said, still breathless as he sat on one of Dawson’s barstools, watching as he made them eggs.
“No?” Dawson smirked in a way that was totally not hot at all.Nope. “I got a few tricks up my sleeve, still.”
They ate their eggs side by side at the kitchen counter while Dawson’s knee brushed every few seconds against Cam’s.
Cam finished his second mug of coffee and offered to do the dishes, but Dawson just waved him off. “My housekeeper’s coming later today. She can do it,” he said.
There didn’t seem to be any other reasons to stay, but Cam was still hesitating, acutely aware that Dawson was still looking at his mouth.
But before he could suggest going back to bed, his phone rang.
A quick glance at the screen told him he shouldn’t ignore it.
“I should probably take this. It’s my dad,” Cam said, realizing a second after he said it that probably made him look young and a little stupid. God, he could’ve called his dad back in five minutes—or an hour. But he’d said it, and there was nothing to do but own it.
But there was zero judgment on Dawson’s face. He reached out and curled a hand around Cam’s shoulder. “Have a good day off and I’ll see you tomorrow?” he said, and Cam nodded and that was that.
A moment later his shoes and jacket were back on, and he was in the hallway, picking up his dad’s call.
“I texted you,” Shane said when he picked up on the last ring.
“Oh. I hadn’t been looking at my phone.” He hadn’t looked at it once this morning. Hadn’t even realized it was still in his jeans pocket until it had started ringing.
“Busy night?” his dad asked slyly.
“Uh.” Cam genuinely tried tonotshare anything about his sex life with his dad, not because he wouldn’t approve—as long as he was safe, Shane hadn’t ever cared—but because it was awkward as fuck.
Once in a while, he would gently admonish Cam that someday hewouldwant someone for more than just a fun night in bed, and he should at least be open to that possibility. Well, Cam wasnotgoing to tell his dad that this theoretical person had finally arrived on the scene and that it was his veteran kicker.
“Oh, you don’t have to tell me anything,” Shane said, chuckling under his breath. “Don’t worry about that. Just want to make sure you’re doing good after yesterday.”
“Ugh, that punt in the second quarter. I know. I should’ve pinned them right against the line, and I didn’t.” Cam walked into the elevator, leaning against the back wall for the trip down three floors.
“Kiddo,” his dad said, “I wasn’t thinking about that at all. Four wins in a row, I figured you’d be celebrating with the team.”
“Oh. Yeah. I uh . . .I did. We went out to that bar again.”
