He’d never frozen before. Not once. Not even during the worst of his meltdown last year. But it was always there, hovering as an awful possibility in the back of his mind. Usually easier to ignore, but persistent nevertheless.
Cam wandered over in his direction after the kickoff.
“Hey,” he said, but even though that was what he said, Dawson knew what he’d meant.Are you okay?was written, plain as day, all over Cam’s face.
He grimaced. “I’m good, yeah?”
Cam shot him an unimpressed look. “I didn’t ask if you were okay. Obviously you’re okay.”
Dawson didn’t even get a second to reiterate thatof coursehe was okay, because Cam continued. “Are you not okay?”
“I’m fine,” Dawson ground out. “Just . . .there’s nothingwrong. I don’t know Simon isn’t on my side, but . . .”
There’d been a time when any kind of sympathy grated. Felt worse than if everyone just ignored what was happening. But Cam’s didn’t bother him the same way. Maybe because he knew it went more than skin-deep.
“You don’t know, but you’re going to find out,” Cam said. “And even if it’s true? Even if maybe Simon’s got an alternate agenda he didn’t tell you about? That doesn’t change anything about you, or what you’re capable of. You’re still Dawson Hall. Firstballot Hall of Famer. As akicker. Fucking extraordinary. You’ve got the skill. Nobody ever doubts that.Just you.”
Dawson didn’t know what to say, butfucking extraordinarykept echoing in his head. He managed a nod.
“We don’t worry about you, not for a second,” Cam said and patted his shoulder. “Remember that, okay?”
It was going to be tough for Dawson to forget it now. Especially when he thought of last season, of the Baltimore players tiptoeing around him like they were afraid to even meet his eyes, because what if he fucking missed another field goal and it was their fault?
But Cam was right; nobody was doing that here. Nobody had shirked away from him when he’d missed that field goal two games ago. They’d just clapped him on the back and said, easy, like it meant nothing, even though it meant everything, that he’d nail the next one.
As the game unfolded, Dawson realized he was actually excitedto get out there and prove to the guys—and to himself—that itwastrue. He wanted to remind everyone that he was Dawson Hall, one of the best kickers in the NFL.
But of course, that isn’t what happened.
He kicked an extra point. And then another. And then another.
Aidan and the offense were rolling, one touchdown after another. Dawson looked up at the scoreboard as the third quarter wound to a close, realizing the score was forty-two to seven, and there was almost no chance he’d be kicking a field goal in this game.
Six extra points, sure, but those were so routine Dawson barely had to think about them. Especially when that was all he was doing.
“Damn,” Cam said as the fourth quarter ticked away, Jaden getting handoff after handoff, the Thunder only trying to eat clock to end this game sooner rather than later.
“Is it crazy that I’m a little disappointed?” Dawson asked under his breath.
“That you didn’t get to kick today? You kicked six extra points, Daws.”
“Not the same, and you know it. Especially when it’s a five-score game.”
Cam shrugged. “True.” Then he shot Dawson a bright grin. “But you’re gonna get them next time.”
For a split second, he nearly said,Hope so, but then realized that was offering the possibility that he might not some much-needed wiggle room. Not allowing it a foothold in his mind, but enough of a gap that it could find a way in.
But he was done with that.
“Yeah,” he agreed instead, “I am.”
Chapter 15
“Yougottatellme,”Cam said, leaning into Dawson’s space as they settled in the suite seats above the ice, “was thisyouridea initially, ’cause it’s fucking brilliant.”
Dawson shot him an amused look. “No. It was all Wes. I think he’s having more fun than he should torturing Nate with all his comments about hockey being harder than football.”
When Clarissa, one of the PR reps, had come into the locker room with an offer to attend the Leafs game tonight, a handful of hands had gone up, including Dawson’s.
