The spoiled milk feeling was back.
Robby: Know what?
Wyatt: That you killed a guy and your dad is a cult leader.
Charlie: I definitely wouldn’t go back to your apartment.
Robby: My apartment is a crime scene.
Wyatt: All the more reason for you to stay at Calder’s.
Four devil faces followed.
Robby: Whatever you’re planning won’t work. He’s not interested.
Wyatt: False. He’s interested, but my idiot husband is cock-blocking you.
Robby: What? Why?
Wyatt: Revenge? Amusement? General fuckery? He told Calder if he fucks you, he’s fired.
Robby thought about the words.If he fucks him…For as much as Robby wanted to lose his virginity, he had never contemplated what that entailed. A picture of Calder on top of him,inside him, took root at Wyatt’s message, sinking its hooks into him and refusing to let go. He wanted Calder inside him, wanted it more than he could ever admit to anybody, including himself, because the likelihood was slim to none. He didn’t want to get Calder fired. He told them as much.
Wyatt: Linc isn’t going to fire Calder for getting laid. He’s just giving him a little payback.
Robby: Does Linc know you’re telling me all this?
Wyatt: Oh, God. No. I wouldn’t be able to sit down for a week.
Robby: Oh. So, why are you telling me this?
Charlie: Because he’s hoping Linc punishes him hard enough that he won’t be able to sit down for a week.
Robby sometimes felt like these two were speaking an entirely different language.
Robby: So Calder won’t sleep with me because Linc said he’ll get fired? But only if he fucks me…right? So it all depends on his definition of sex?
Charlie: Oh, I’m picking up what you’re putting down. You wanna pull a Clinton. That’s perfect. Get him to do everything but the sexing, and eventually, he will throw it all away for that sweet ass of yours.
Robby: Why are you like this?
Charlie: Hard to say, really.
Wyatt: Ignore her. You’ve got this. Be brave. Be bold. Be flexible.
Charlie: Yeah. Go out there and suck a dick for the greater good.
Robby didn’t bother to answer, just tossed his phone aside and went to use the bathroom off of Calder’s bedroom. There were paint brushes in the sink and paint splotches on the shower wall. Robby smiled. He never would have pegged Calder as an artist, much less an amazing one. Though as messy as he was and as wild as he seemed, maybe it made perfect sense. He was definitely a free spirit.
Once Robby had answered nature’s call and splashed some water on his face, he brushed his teeth with the toothbrush Calder had found for him under the sink. Robby didn’t want to think too hard about why Calder kept new toothbrushes at the ready. He supposed he should just be grateful it was there.
His hair stood on end and nothing he did would get it to lay down so he left it as it was. He held the shirt he wore—Calder’s shirt—to his nose, inhaling deeply. It smelled like him. Robby shook his head, dropping it back into place, before venturing out of the bedroom.
Calder stood at the kitchen counter in the same red boxer briefs he’d slept in. How could anybody look that good just standing there? His ass was perfect. His everything was perfect. Calder glanced over at him and grinned. “Good, you’re up. I made breakfast.”
Calder held out his offering.
“A burrito?” Robby questioned then flushed bright red. Obviously, it was a burrito.
