He hadn’t considered whether Aidan would come alone or not. If he had, he might’ve said that Aidan would bring his boyfriend, Levi.
Not that he’d bring his good friend, once-teammate and nowcurrent-teammate, Mo Jeffries.
Mo and Dawson shot each other looks across the table like they were both thinking the same thing:wow, dude, this is so fucking awkward. Aidan’s got no matchmaking instincts at all.
Not that Dawson thought this was a setup or a date.
It wasn’t.
Just a weird fucked-up platonic date, because Aidan had decided in his head, where terrible ideas transformed into great ideas, that since Aidan and Mo were friends and Aidan andDawson were friends, thatMo and Dawsonshould become friends.
While Dawson was neutral tomehon that particular idea, but he wasn’t against it, either. Mostly, he was against the awkward, stilted first-date small talk that Aidan had whipped out. Like he had a pocket full of notecards filed with conversational openings.
When Dawson saw Levi at practice tomorrow, he was going to ask if he was right.
Dawson interrupted Aidan’s in-depth analysis of the AFC North’s playoff hopes, dotted with a few dry, impersonal comments comparing his own play to those four quarterbacks. “Dude,” he said, “why didn’t you bring Levi?”
Aidan shot him a pseudo-hurt look. “Why would I do that? This is afriendskind of dinner.” He looked over at Mo, who only looked torn between amusement and resignation.
Dawson gave Morris Jeffries an appraising once-over. He didn’t seem like a badguy. It wasn’t his fault that Aidan had been in love with him. Or that he hadn’t wanted to get all up in Aidan’s business. Dawson didn’t want to either. Maybe Mo had also seen Aidan puke in a bush once. They’d been playing together long enough it seemed like a possibility.
“I can do things without my boyfriend,” Aidan continued, complaining now. “I don’t know why you think I can’t. Or that Ishouldn’t. We have nice, healthy boundaries, we’re so—”
“Trust me, we know what ‘nice, healthy boundaries’ you have,” Dawson retorted.
Aidan rolled his eyes. “For the hundredth time, we were notmaking outin that storage closet. Levi had something in his eye. I was just helping him out.”
“Being a real bro,” Mo said pointedly.
Maybe Dawson could like this guy more than he’d thought he might.
“A real bro would’ve gotten on his knees,” Dawson said.
Mo choked out a laugh, and Aidan looked torn between outrage and embarrassment.
“Do you ever take anything seriously?” Aidan hissed to Dawson.
Dawson picked up his green tea and wished that Aidan hadn’t guilted him into getting this instead of a nice sake. They had a good list here.
“Lots of things,” Dawson said. He’d taken Cam seriously last night. Had thought about it a dozen times today: Cam spread out on his bed, gorgeous and glowing, with Dawson’s marks all over him.
“You’re ridiculous,” Aidan said, shaking his head. He looked over at Mo, likecan you believe this guy?
“I don’t know, he’s kinda funny,” Mo said.
Aidan made a half-grimace, like Mo liking Dawson hadn’t been the whole point of this whole freaking exercise.
And if he hadn’t been here, out in a dim corner of this sushi restaurant, maybe he’d have found a reason to head down a few floors and see if Cam was up for a repeat already.
He’d seemed into it this morning. Had looked disappointed when his phone had rung, and Dawson had felt the echo of it too, deep down.
“So, Mo, how’s it been being back in Toronto?” Dawson said, deciding that if they were going to get through the next hour, he was going to need to make an effort. Otherwise, Aidan would probably whip out his notecards and make every single person at this table miserable, including himself.
“Wait a second,” Mo said, straightening. “Howdid you say it?”
He exchanged a knowing look with Aidan.
“What?” Dawson was confused.
