“Well, I’m doing it. I contacted the prosecutor’s office directly and well—” Dawson cleared his throat. “I’m hoping that they’ll get back to me. Let me know what the real situation is.”
“That’s great, Daws,” Cam said, eyes full of sincerity.
“I hope it is. I’m sure when Simon finds out he’s gonna be pissed. Hurt, too, that I didn’t trust him.” Dawson was sure that he was just being paranoid, and that when push came to shove, Simon was probably going to be justifiably annoyed that he hadn’t just trusted him. Why shouldn’t Dawson trust him? He hadn’t ever done a thing to earn anything else.
“Simon should understand exactly why you need this,” Cam said. “If he was a friend, he’d get it.”
Dawsonhadtried to trust blindly, but he wasn’t any good at that anymore, unable to shake the feeling at the back of his head. He knew if he didn’t do something to make sure he knew the whole situation, even if he made his peace with the plea deal, he’d not be able to entirely move on.
Start fresh.
And if he everdidwant to examine anything that he was deliberately not thinking about—if he ever hoped of making Cameron something more to him than just a friend and a hookup—then he needed to put all of this to rest so he could finally heal.
“I hope so,” Dawson said. “And I really hope it’s justme. That it’s nothing.”
“We’ll see,” Cam said, then leaned forward across the table. Eyes intent on Dawson’s. “I’m there for you, no matter what. Whichever way it turns out.”
Dawson smiled, nodding, and realized as he picked up his fork that he’d never questioned whetherthatwas true.
Maybe other people bred mistrust in him, but not Cameron. Never Cam. It was so easy to take his open and easy nature and believe in it, wholeheartedly.
“This is . . .uh . . .” Dawson pushed rice around his plate, picking up little bits of extra garlic sauce. “This is good for you, yeah?”
“Lebanese? I thought that was obvious.” Cam laughed. “We had to order more food, Daws.”
“Not the Lebanese, though don’t tell Aidan that, because he’s already bordering on insufferable. I mean . . .uh . . .what we’re doing. You and I.”
Cam looked up at him, surprise written all over his face. “Did you think it wasn’t good?”
“No, no, I did. Ido. I love it. I—” Dawson bit off the rest of whatever embarrassingly rhapsodic thing he was about to say. “I’m good. I just want to make sure you’re good, too. I know we said hookups, and we are, but we’re . . .uh . . .spending a lot of time together.”
“If I didn’t like it, I’d tell you,” Cam said.
“Right. Right. I knew that. I did. I just wanted to make sure.” Dawson wished now that he’d never brought it up. Of course Cam would’ve told him if he’d crossed a line, even inadvertently.
“Being here in Toronto, on the Thunder, was good before, but now that we’re hanging out all the time? It’s so much better. I feel . . .” Cam trailed off before he could finish his sentence, but whatever look he was wearing on his face? Dawson felt the echo of it in his own chest.
At the very least, they were on the same page.
“Yeah, same,” Dawson said, and it wasn’t hard at all to smile at Cameron then. It came so easy and natural.
“Good, ’cause I love learning about this stuff. Like new food and new cultures. Even if it freaked me out at first.”
“You didn’t want to look stupid,” Dawson said. He got it. He’d been there, too. Maybe it had been a long time ago and he’d had a little more experience with a big city, but it wasn’t all that much different.
“Not in front of anybody, sure, but definitely not in front of you.” Cam nudged Dawson’s foot. “Might’ve had a little bit of a crush on you.”
“Had?” Dawson teased.
Cam flushed. “You know exactly how it is,” he claimed.
“Yeah, I do,” Dawson said, and it was hard not to sound smug about that. Not when he had Cam in his bed now, the day after that, and the day after that, and hopefully well . . .for a really freaking long time.
Dawson packedthatthought away before it did any damage.
Well. Anymoredamage.
“I was thinking we could watch another movie tonight, if you wanted,” Cam said.
