“Shut the fuck up, man,” I snorted, hauling my dirty shirt off and throwing it at his face. He caught it in the air laughing, his dual colored eyes shining with mirth.
“I’ll be damned. See, you could easily pull Magic Mike money with those abs. And you’ve got a built-in customer base with Fin down there. I’m only seeing positives here.”
“And I’m positive your ass will be looking for breakfast elsewhere if you don’t get out of my room,” I smirked.
“See ya down there,” Cal blurted as he strode quickly out the door.
“Masterfully handled,” Bash chuckled before pinning me with a concerned stare. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah B, just tired,” I lied, giving him a half-assed smile. “Let’s go eat before Nate pilfers all our food.”
“Speak for yourself. My baby has a giant plate squirreled away just for me, so I’m all good,” Bash grinned smugly.
“Way to cheat the system.”
“Don’t blame me because you don’t have an inside man.”
“Didn’t think I’d need one seeing as it’s my damn house. I’m the inside-ist man you can get,” I mumbled.
We made our way down to the kitchen and drool filled my mouth at the smell of waffles and bacon. The kitchen was filled with our small, but growing crew and my pissy mood mostly dissipated at the sight. Micah and Rhys were busy at the stove while Cal, Aly, Nate and Fin had sat down with Cal’s friends Griffin and Kenji at the long island bar top. Bash and I joined the eight of them while they all chatted together and wolfed down breakfast.
I’d met most of them through a weird domino effect. Once Bash introduced Micah to me and Nate, the rest snowballed from there. It was a big “friend of a friend” type deal all around, but we’d all pretty much settled into genuine friendships in one way or another. It was an unusual phenomenon for me that I was still getting used to.
Growing up, I’d never had a ton of friends, preferring to spend my time playing music or reading. I had been the quiet, aloof kid always humming songs or playing air piano in class. Football eventually changed that, along with kids learning my dad wastheLincoln Hayes, but I was still that same quiet kid inside. Being popular meant nothing to me because no one really cared about knowing the real me. They ignored my quirks instead of accepting them, and they only cared about my name being attached to them in some way.
The only one who had ever truly cared about me was Theo. He didn’t care about my dad’s status or money. He didn’t think I was weird. He just appreciated me for who I was, flaws and all.
After I lost him, I pretty much limited my circle to Nate and Bash once I met them at UT. Even when most of the campus knew me thanks to my quarterback status, I mostly kept to myself. Sure, I went to parties and occasionally hung out with guys from the team, but I never shared anything about myself beyond a smile and inane small talk. I was window dressing, a pretty face that people thought of as a friend merely because I was friendly.
It made me thankful for this ragtag group who was quickly becoming a support system I didn’t realize I needed. My breakdown at the karaoke bar was one of many times now that these guys had shown care and interest in me beyond the Hayes name and my jersey number. They reminded me that Theo wasn’t the only one who would embrace and appreciate the real Dawson.
Still, they would never know me as deeply and intrinsically as Theo had, but that was the price I paid when one person owned my soul. I had pieces of myself to give to others, but I’d never feel whole without him.
Clattering plates and arguing snapped me out of the miserable musings.
“Ouch! Look, I’m starving, I just wanted seconds!” Nate complained, raising his hands to fend off Rhys who held a plate out of his reach with one hand and smacking Nate with the spatula he held in the other.
“You already had seconds and this is Dawson’s! If you want more pancakes, thenyougo make them!” Rhys chided.
“But but but—that’s so much work,” Nate whined. “And you and Micah were the ones who offered to cook for us in the first place!”
“I’m sorry, do I have IHOP stamped on my ass?” Micah sassed from the stove where he finished up the last strips of bacon.
“How am I supposed to know? If your boyfrestie over there is into sharing now, I’d be happy to check,” Nate teased with a wide grin. Bash popped him on the back of the head as he walked by.
“Excuse you, but the term is ‘bestie-boyfriend’. Also this is not made-to-order and my ass isn’t on the menu.”
“Nope! Don’t you say it,” Rhys warned, pointing an accusatory finger at Cal from across the kitchen island.
“Oh be fair now, Sweetness. He teed it up for me,” Cal complained. Rhys only huffed and handed me my plate, which I took gratefully and thanked him for. He ambled over to Cal who hooked him around the waist, pulling him onto his lap. I swear, they were as sickeningly sweet as Micah and Bash most days.
You’re only jealous because you used to have that with someone else…
And just like that, my mood soured once again as I told my inner voice to fuck right off with the unwelcome reminders. It was already a losing battle to shove down the memories from last night when everything went to shit.
The masochistic part of me couldn’t help but wonder if Theo was okay this morning. He’d definitely been high last night and I had been particularly cruel to him…not that he didn’t deserve at least some of it.
Whatever, it wasn’t my business anymore.
