“Robbie, shut up and go to your kid.” As if Finn would begrudge Robbie making a hasty exit. Sawyer might be okay, but he was clearly freaked out, and Robbie didn’t look much better. “Call me later?”
“Yes.” He smacked a kiss against Finn’s lips and dashed out of the room, phone once again unmuted. “Sawyer? Yeah, I’m coming.”
Chapter Eight
The Interest Rate of Borrowed Trouble
It didn’tmatter that no one was hurt and nothing was damaged, or that one of the firefighters offered to stay at the house until Robbie’s return—he couldn’t relax until he had Sawyer in his arms. His heart started racing the moment he picked up the call and heard the beeping fire alarm, which Sawyer couldn’t shut up, and he knew it wouldn’t settle until he could confirm everything with his own eyes.
“Oh my God,” Sawyer complained when Robbie insisted on a ten-point inspection. All fingers accounted for—not even a blister. “Robbie. I’m fine. I’m just like… hungry.” He huffed, refusing to meet Robbie’s eyes.
Robbie narrowed his own. Sawyer was acting “sus,” as he would say. Not thehighkind of sus, but theup to somethingkind. But Robbie knew this kid too well to approach it head-on. He could bide his time.
Sawyer might have escaped unscathed, but the same could not be said of the oven, which was going to need serious work before anything edible could be cooked in it. Definitely not a job for tonight. “How do we feel about Chinese?” Robbie asked.
“I want extra green-onion pancakes.”
Robbie was raising such a sensible child. “Obviously. What is this, amateur hour?”
He was pretty sure the hug he got in return wasn’t for the takeout, but he didn’t have to tell Sawyer his cover was blown. “Come on. Let’s see if I can still beat you atMortal Kombat.”
While Sawyer set it up, Robbie ordered dinner, then took an extra few minutes “ordering dinner” to text Finn instead.
Crisis averted, Chinese on its way.Finn didn’t need Robbie to dump his worries on him. Besides, he wanted to ease back into the conversation they’d been having earlier.
But how to word that was… tricky.
The truth was, like any professional athlete who’d been unattached in his prime years (and many who weren’t), Robbie’d had more than his fair share of sex. Helikedsex. Sex was fun and felt good and cleared the mind. People would joke that Robbie’s mind didn’t need clearing, but people rarely knew what they were talking about.
Anyway, the point was that Robbie enjoyed recreational sex. But people wereobsessedwith it, and he’d never gotten that part. Not until he kissed Finn and lost whatever was left of his mind. Robbie might be physically present in his own home with his kid—and he’d never regret leaving the hotel; he’d needed to know Sawyer was okay. But now that he’d done that, mentally, emotionally, he was back in the suite, on the couch with Finn on his lap, negotiating the details of their relationship.
This was so much easier when he had Finn in front of him to gauge his reactions. Also significantly more fun. But as the great bards once said, you can’t always get what you want. Still….
Robbie glanced around. Sawyer was still in the living room, setting up the video-game emulator. He leaned back in the armchair in the front room and arranged himself so the effects of thinking about Finn were obvious, then snapped apicture and sent it.Wish you were here.On Robbie’s dick specifically. He was pretty sure Finn would get the subtext.
Then Robbie composed himself and headed downstairs. “Ready to lose?”
Sawyer squawked. “When have youeverbeaten me at this game?”
“Uh, last week, if I’m remembering right?”
“Okay, thatdoesn’t count. You took the batteries out of my controller—”
“Excuses,” Robbie dismissed.
Sawyer elbowed him.
In Robbie’s pocket, his phone vibrated.
The starting screen hadn’t loaded yet. Probably Robbie should upgrade this system if it was taking this long, but on the other hand, maybe dealing with old computers would teach Sawyer a valuable lesson in patience.
You’re a menace, Finn’s text read.I’m at the grocery store.
Robbie texted him an eggplant. Then,Bonding with Sawyer. Text you later? You can tell me all your fantasies and how you want this to work.
Then he forced himself to put the phone on Do Not Disturb for half an hour of quality video-game time. Sawyer thoroughly trounced him. It was possible Robbie’s head was not in the game.
Dinner arrived, and Robbie and Sawyer decamped the basement to the kitchen to eat, because it meant they had to talk to each other instead of watch TV. Robbie had instituted the rule and thought it was probably good practice, or at least it had been until today, when Sawyer looked at him over a carton of lo mein and said, “So where’d you go today?”
